Just some of my favourites;

Movies (as opposed to Films)
Gone With The Wind
The Wizard Of Oz
The Princess Bride
Cabaret

Favourite Singers
Nancy LaMott –I was lucky enough to see her in a benefit concert in New York months before she died, too young at 43. A warm, rich voice, and impeccable phrasing, there’s not a track she recorded that isn’t a joy to listen to.
Michael Ball – doesn’t always show the best taste in his choice of song, and definitely no taste in clothes, but if you could make love to a voice, his would be the one.
Mario Frangoulis – Greek/Italian classical cross-over who actually knows how to sing a popular song. Doesn’t hurt that he’s a bit of a hunk to boot.
Rosemary Clooney – the late and great, just sang ‘em straight and clear, no frills. My Dad’s favourite singer, and I finally cried for losing him when I saw her in concert in San Francisco and she unexpectedly sang his favourite song.

Foreign Films
All About My Mother (Spanish)
House Of Flying Daggers (Chinese)
City Of Lost Children (French) (thanks NN)
Tears of the Black Tiger (Thai)
Suryathai (Thai)


This Year’s Best Films
Latter Days
dot the i
Mr & Mrs Smith
Kung Fu Hustle

Musicals
A Little Night Music
The Secret Garden
Most Happy Fella
Cabaret
Nine

Drinks
Beer – Cascade
Scotch, single malt
Vodka (straight or martini)
Muscat (so very much better than port)

Actors (foreign)
Gael Garcia Bernal ( Bad Education, Motorcycle Diaries, dot the i)
Takeshi Kaneshira (Fallen Angels, Anna Magdalena, House of Flying Daggers)
Rodrigo Santoro (Carandiru, Love Actually)
Jesadaporn Pholdee (Dan Brierly, Iron Ladies)

Unforgettable Stage performances
Diana Rigg, Night and Day, London 1979
· A combination of skill and presence, completely dominating an otherwise forgettable play. She spent most of the play reclining upstage idly flipping through a magazine, yet somehow you looked at her a split second before she said a line, then your focus went back to the other actors.
Judi Dench, Kiss of the Gorgon, London
· Sheer unadulterated talent, based on a technique so solid I don’t think she can put a foot wrong. A difficult play, three time-frames simultaneously on stage, with Dame Judi’s character in all three at once, yet her performance never left you in any doubt where you were in the play and what was going on. Emotionally shattering at the end.
Glenn Close, Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles
· Brave, beautifully judged performance, on the brink of being over the top all the way, totally sympathetic frightening display of the decent into murder and madness.
Matthew Broderick, How To Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, New York
· Another almost over the top performance, beautifully based physically, the whole thing done on the balls of his toes, slightly hunched shoulders, always looking for, and grabbing any opportunity, turning a potentially unlikeable character into a charming rogue. Coincidentally co-starring as his on-stage romance, his off-stage partner Sarah Jessica Parker.
Zoe Caldwell, Masterclass, New York
· A performance that did go over the top, but only when the character would have done. The closest I can ever get to seeing Maria Callas live, but it was an evocation, not a recreation. Funny, sad, selfish, spiteful, tactless, and so very tragically alone.
Marlene Dietrich, in concert, Melbourne
· There wasn’t a look, a phrase or a gesture that wasn’t precisely planned and inalterable, not an audience reaction that could have been anything but what she intended, but something magical happened every time she did whatever it was she was doing. If ever a goddess walked on this earth . . . .

Food
Almost anything Thai
Avocado
Almost anything Chinese
Sticky Date Pudding with caramel sauce.

Places to visit
New York
My best friend’s house

Holiday destination
Jomtien Beach, Thailand
· A broad sweep of beach, deck-chairs and umbrellas. With wonderfully wicked Pattaya only10 minutes and half a world away.
Puerto Galera, Philippines
· White sand, coconut plantations, more stars in the sky than I ever thought could exist, and bamboo huts right on the beach for about $10.00 a night, waking up to kids splashing in the waves 5 metres away, chickens scratching under the floor, and nothing to do all day but eat, drink and laze around. Bliss, sheer bliss.
Waikiki, Honolulu
· Paradise. Perfect climate, stunning beach, great bars, and shopping, shopping, shopping, all that American materialism can offer.

Kismet ?

I had last week off work. Planned. Nothing major to be done, basically just R & R. Part of the second R was meant to be enjoying the four DVDs I’d ordered online – two from Canada, two from Hong Kong. Orders placed after carefully working out timings based on past experience, so they should arrive during my week off.

The best-laid plans of course tend to fall in a heap. Not one of them arrived. That was OK. I dealt with it. I just raided the local DVD hire instead, and discovered one of my fave new actors Gael Garcia Bernal has a new movie out – his first English language film. Definite compensation. (The film is called “dot the i” and worth watching.)

So, back to work Monday. You’re expecting I’m going to say the DVDs were waiting when I got home, right? Wrong. Nothing. Zilch. Nada.
Tuesday, rostered day off, 10.30 AM, knock on the door. Curiously the dog doesn’t bark, just wags his tail. It’s the postman, with three parcels for me. Yep, all the DVDs, all on my day off. Not surprisingly didn’t get too far away from the TV yesterday.

Nice and neat right?
What’s really curious is that Tuesday wasn’t meant to be my RDO. I swapped it late on Monday with one of the kids at work so she could make a doctor’s appointment on Thursday.

So was it meant to be? Kismet? Fate? The Gods smiling reward on a minor good deed?
If I believed in that I’d probably say it was.
Happy coincidence more like it. I think the word I want is serendipitous. Sounds good anyway.

"So here i am - my heart breaking . . . forced to glitter, forced to be gay."

Now I'd love to offer a prize to the first person who can identify the quoted lyric (just the show it's from would be enough) – Maybe I should, I’m pretty confident no-one who reads this is likely to recognise it.

Yeah, I’m back at work after my week off, in a new desk, Blog Central from the looks of it, Slim, Lollie, Mel and myself all in a bit of a bunch. Not that it will affect the amount of work done of course!

New desk means new computer, and just now realised all the old training stuff, emails etc, has stayed on my old computer. I’m seriously wondering if I want to retrieve it or not, and thereby hangs a long and sorry tale that I’m just not getting into (not yet)

But, nice to see the guys here, catch up on a bit of goss (and the best goss I can’t put in here, goddammitt.).

The week off was good, relaxing, only one seriously drunken episode (already noted), lots of movies watched, two or three books read, dog spoiled absolutely rotten with walks and attention - even got some gardening done (in between rain) and redesigned my new kitchen – twice. That makes I think 7 major variations to date. The bathroom only sits at about 5 plans – its falling behind.

Even managed to take myself out to the theatre – Judi Connelli in “Sunset Boulevard”. Not bad really, she would have benefited from a couple of weeks more rehearsal, but she sure sang the guts out of it. David Campbell stole it though – kind of nice to see the focus shift back to the Joe Gillis character, more like the film.

And now I’m back, taking the same calls, fixing the same mistakes other people have made, hearing the same lame jokes from the techs . . . . haven’t actually been abused yet. That’s something. (Did get told by a contractor that I had upset her a few weeks back – I intended too, she’d been rude and I told her. Tough if she didn’t like it. Now she’s angling for an apology as I “must be in a better mood after my time off” – boy has she got a few things to learn.)

I guess one week off, nice as it was, just ain’t enough.

Monday 10.00pm
OK, I'm on holidays and you gotta love that. I admit, Melbourne in August ain't the most inspiring place to spend a week off work - it's the coldest month, and the second wettest, but it's time away from the daily grind, and it means I can go and visit friends on Sunday and Monday and drink, and that's just what I've been doing.
Yesterday was a visit to Steve, just round the corner, to try and help him set up his new computer so he can pirate DVD's. Got most of the way, but he needs some software I can lend him, and that gave me leverage to borrow a couple of his DVD's that he wasn't quite ready to let go just yet. He has this thing about watching a film he likes about five times in a row - don't understand that sort of compulsive excessive overdose myself, but hey, if he gets his jollies that way, who's to criticise.
I had my Sunday night all planned - well, an hour of it anyway watching a doco on the history of the American musical on ABC. I'm passionate enough about that particular subject to give up a whole night to one hour of TV, even on holiday time. So, getting close to time to go home and settle in front of the TV when Mel arrives. Now, this is not Melly Feline, this is Maltese Mel, the non-stop talker with the second most perfect pair of breasts I know of. Some of you I know will be wondering what the hell I'm doing mentioning the fact that someone has beautiful breasts, but, voyeuristic tendencies maybe, I like to look, I can even admire . . . . I just don't have any great desire to do anything with them. And in case you're wondering who I think has the most beautiful, well, my lips must remain sealed.
Anyway, Maltese Mel arrived - apart from the physical assets, and the fact that she has a wide variety of good-looking cousins and brothers, Mel is a non-stop talker, and one of those people who while she is a joy to be with, is quite exhausting. On top of that she does not like to take no for an answer.
Mel wanted me to go to some bar in Northcote - NORTHCOTE !!! She finally got the message that:
a/ Persons of my age and persuasion do not willingly go out without at least four hours to get ready.(We may not look any better at the end of the four hours, but we feel we do.)
and
b/ She was up against that show on the ABC that I had been waiting to see for about 18 months..

I won, didn't go out drinking, watched my show, and was ready for more serious drinking today, Monday.
Today I hopped on a train, and headed deep south to Brighton, where my oldest and dearest friend lives with his partner of 26 years. Now I reckon 26 years is a damned good effort by any standards, and they turn on good food and damned good wine, so lunch didn't finish till about 8.30 pm.
We talked and drank, and talked some more, watched bits from favourite DVDs and drank a bit more, and talked about what we'd just watched while we had another glass of wine, and sang along to a few songs then had to have another wine or two. Somehow I have managed to catch the train home, and even more surprisingly I seem to be able to be typing reasonably cohesively (and using big words like cohesively - and even spelling it the same way twice !!! )
No doubt I shall be spending tomorrow recovering from today's excessive drinking.
But isn't that what a holiday is for !

Been neglecting this a bit lately. Guess it's been a bit of a busy week.Stupid day on Thurday last. Slept in - not really my fault, the power went off during the night and so neither alarm went off. Yeah, I have two, one I can reach over and belt the shit out of so I can snooze, the other one beeps annoyingly, the dog hates it and will come in and bark at it after about thirty seconds, and I can't reach it without getting out of bed, so normally I cannot sleep in.
So woke up and the alarm is flashing 12.50 at me. Took a few momets to realise it was flashing, and that meant I hadn't necessarily woken up in the middle of the night.
Turned the light on, grabbed the watch, Oh shit, gotta be out of here in 15 minutes.Stuff shaving, washed quickly, fed the dog, dressed, brushed teeth, put the dog out- shit, its raining - race to the car, bending down to keep rain off the glasses and avoid wet branches I've been meaning to cut back for weeks, open the door - ouch, slam the door hard into my head !
Bleeding - great ! Inside, cold washcloth, stop the bleeding, good, bit of a lump forming, never mind, gotta get to work.
Get there on time, just. Log in, explain to Rob what a clumsy idiot I've been - God bless him, he's concerned. Don't quite understand why. Stand up to go get the first print-outs. Oh, feel a bit wobbly there. Must have stood up too quickly. Make it to the printer, back to my desk, work a bit, gotta get up again. Feeling wobblier. Why I wonder ? Sure I have a bump on my head, but it's not hurting. An hour later find myself still wobbly, feeling strange, staring at the computer. I know I know how to do this, but just can't quite seem to remember. Figure maybe I should not be here . . . . Rob won't let me walk down the stairs. Good thinking.
Go home, feeling really stupid.Turn the TV on, daytime TV is so mindless it won't matter if I can't concentrate. Gotta do something, I seem to remember something about not going to sleep after a bang on the head . . . . hey, TV's gone off. Light's off too . . . No power. Again. And it's cold - no it's freezing in here.Wind up wrapped up in a blanket to keep warm, can't concentrate to read. Dog has snuggled up with me on the couch,very cosy but I shouldn't fall asleep, should I ? No music cos there's no power, no heater, no electric jug so no coffee. Why do I have an all-electric house ??? Should I go out and boil water on the BBQ? No, it's raining, remember. Oh, and the gas bottle's empty anyway.
45 minutes later all is well, power is on. Great start to the day.

Split Weeks and Monday Mornings

The one-day weekend sucks. Obviously you're not really in the mood to spend the whole day doing all those domestic things that really need to be done, and spending the day indulging yourself is much more appealing, (not to mention essential to one's well-being) so I didn't do the washing or the vacuuming, I didn't mow the lawns, and I most certainly didn't weed the garden.
I did watch a movie, took the dog for a long walk in the sun (beautiful day), and generally lazed around. (I did do the dishes - that one I can't ignore.)
The result ? While I am feeling quite rested, and I'm actually not in my usual Monday bad-mood, there is a nagging feeling of guilt that I didn't do any of those tasks on the "weekend." Also there is the fear that I just may run out of clean socks. The guilt I'm used to, instilled in me at an early age, it is a permanent part of my life. It just doesn't feel right if I'm not feeling guilty, and there doesn' t have to be anything to attach that guilt to. Such is the lot of the gay son of a jewish mother.
The socks however is a very real fear. Irrational, and easily resolved, but having something like that to worry about is much better than worrying about the big things - like how do I pay the phone bill and put petrol in the car this week. . . .