Monday Morning Video Laugh - June 15, 2015

Steaks well done.

Dinner last night:  French dip sandwich at the Bee Hive in Armonk.

The Sunday Memory Drawer - New York State Regents Exams

If you're in high school this month, chances are you're taking final exams.   And, if you live in New York State, you're taking final exams as directed by the Regents.  Centralized finals for a variety of subjects.

After thinking about them, I did a Google search and found they still exist.  As a matter of fact, according to the Internet, there have been a lot of issues surrounding them of late.   Some activist groups call them racially biased.   Of course, they're the same folks who to administer final exams and diplomas based simply on spelling your name correctly.

But, I digress...

It's somewhat pleasing for me to see that such an important part of my high school years is still around.  If you were taking a course that had a Regents final, you certainly knew it by the middle of May.   That's when your teacher started to prep you for this.   You'd have to get a workbook like the one pictured above.   It would give you sample past exams.   The Best of Regents as it were.   If your teacher had done a good job over the entire school year, the workbook was just a good refresher.  

I think I took my first Regents exam in the ninth grade and it was for Algebra.   Aces.  The same for some sciences and English and history.  Not only did I pass these exams, I always did so with flying colors.

This was a good thing.   Because, always watching over my shoulder, was Dad.

Backtracking a bit, I can tell you that my father was not particularly active in my school life.   That's not to say that he wasn't interested, but he worked nights.   As a result, when it came to things like Parents Teacher Night, it was my mom doing that heavy lifting.  

There was one time, however, where my dad made a school appearance.   In high school, I had an asshole of a gym teacher called Mr. Lee who was a little abusive to me when it came to doing gymnastics.   I didn't want to do it.  Mr. Lee didn't like that and was a bit nasty about it.   My father had a one-on-one with the jerk.  To this day, I have no idea what happened in that tete-a-tete.   But, from that point on, Mr. Lee treated me like I was Waterford Crystal.

Other than that mysterious incident, Dad was not the school activist in our house.   Except when it came to Regents exams.   It seems that, sometime in Parents 101, the importance of these tests was drilled in.   And my father somehow believed that doing well in these exams was the answer to all things in life.

"Don't monkey around with those Regents."

Er, yes?

For the most part, Dad's stern warning wasn't needed.   I had good teachers.   I did the prep work.  I bought the workbooks at Barish's Bookstore on Gramatan Avenue in Mount Vernon, New York.  And I had the Regents scores to prove it.

"You want to make sure you get that damn Regents diploma."

Um, okay.  If you passed every Regents exam in high school, you got some paper acknowledgement of that accomplishment at graduation.   Perhaps my father thought you could redeem that at the gas station for free fill-ups.   All I know is that he really wanted me to get this.

But, as my high school career progressed, this was not a worry.   I wasn't just passing Regents exams, I was always getting 90s or better.

And then came senior year.   Or, specifically, Physics class.   As it would be in perfect dramatic style, this would be the very last Regents exam I would take.   Nothing seemed to be a problem.   All throughout the school years, I was getting nothing but A+s on my report card in this class.

Except I should have seen the warning signs.   The teacher was an addled and leaky old fossil named Mr. Russell, who was knock, knock, knockin' on Heaven's door.   He loved to astound us with little experiments that could have reruns of TV's Mr. Wizard.   But, when it came to May and the need for Regents prep, he did nothing.  

Okay, no worries.   I went down to Barish's and got the Physics prep book.   And I'll never forget my reaction when I opened it when I got home.

Holy shit!

Whatever curriculum Mr. Russell was following for 12th grade Physics, it wasn't in this book or maybe even state.   This could be a potential disaster.

And it was.   I have no idea how my classmates fared.   But I was in a complete fog taking that final Regents.   90 or better?   I was simply hoping that I would come in somewhere over 65.

I wound up at 63.  And there went the Regents diploma, along with other store coupons my father would get from it.

I knew it would show up on the computerized report card that showed up in the mail.   That document was always opened first by my father.

I remember watching him scan the scores at the kitchen table.  He looked up at me.  

"Well, you tried."

Who are you and what have you done with my father?

Sometimes, in life, people surprise you.  And my dad sure did that day.

"Hey, you're going to college anyway.  No big deal."

Um, okay.

Dinner last night:  Sausage and peppers at Carlo's in Yonkers.  As good as usual.  Meal capped off with a cannoli.
  

   

Classic TV Theme of the Month - June 2015

The Lucy show nobody remembers.   Nor should they.  Yes, that's Eydie Gorme singing the theme.


Dinner last night:  Hangar steak, grilled mushrooms, and onions at Bar Americain.

Your Weekend Movie Guide for June 2015

A glorious color photo of days gone by.  I never got to visit the Roxy Theater in Manhattan.   It was situated on the corner of 50th Street and Seventh Avenue, one block away from Radio City Music Hall.   It essentially had the same format as that showplace.   A big new movie plus a Rockette-less stage show.  These days, this whole corner is populated with franchise restaurants you can usually find in your mall's food court.

June also signifies the beginning of the summer, where folks would seek out what was playing at the Roxy.   Partly because you knew it was going to be great entertainment and partly because the penguin on the banner outside said it was "kool inside."

Where will we be going to get out of the heat?   Well, let's see what nonsense Hollywood has planned for us this June.  You know the routine, gang.  I'll sift through the entertainment pages of the LA Times and give you my knee-jerk reaction to the junk out there.

Well, at least, it is kool inside.

Tomorrowland:  It died at the box office yesterday.

Hot Pursuit:  Reese Witherson and Sofia Vergara team up in an unlikely pairing.   Even more unlikely?  Me seeing this movie.

Pitch Perfect 2:   I saw the original but friends tell me the sequel is a complete mess.

Poltergeist:  Why are they HERE?

Entourage:  I hear it's strictly for fans of the TV show.  That would be me.

Wild Horses:  Robert Duvall stars and directs this story about a Texas Ranger opening up a missing person case from the past.  I assume that's Texas Ranger as in law enforcement as opposed to baseball.

Aloha:  Cameron Crowe's long-awaited next film is supposedly incoherent. So,
that's the best he could do in ten years?

San Andreas:   Reviewed here recently.  Laughably stupid.

Insidious Chapter 3:   Oh, damn, I missed Chapters 1 and 2.

Far From The Madding Crowd:  The latest adaptation of Thomas Hardy's novel and....ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

Love and Mercy:  All about the Beach Boys' conflicted Brian Wilson, who is played by two different actors.  Huh?

Spy:  I would rather drink tincture of iodine before I see a Melissa McCarthy movie.

Ex Machina:  It's been on my three past monthly movie guides so kudos for being persistent to stay out there.

Mad Max - Fury Road:  When I announced last month that I had never seen the originals, I was virtually flogged on the internet.  PS, I still haven't.

Madame Bovary:  The legendary French tale that....ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

Live From New York:   An allegedly thorough documentary on the long running show.   So if it's thorough, we'll meet all the drug dealers that have been supplying the stars all these years?

Me and Earl and the Dying Girl:   Quick way to box office doom?  Put the word "dying" in the title.

Jurassic World:   The latest installment and yes, I will.  Even if it wasn't directed by Spielberg.

Vendetta:  Dean Cain as a detective tracking down his wife's killer.  Death Wish 2015.

The 11th Hour:  Kim Basinger as a business executive keeps having miscarriages.  See what marriage to Alec Baldwin will do to you.

Hungry Hearts:  A young mother shields her child from outside the world.   Take this from somebody who's out there, good move.

Avengers - Age of Ultron:  Still out there.  Still not seeing it.

I'll See You in My Dreams:  Review coming.   First movie I've seen that was partially funded by Kickstarter.

Results:  A recent divorcee is miserable and gets mixed up with a gym rat and an acerbic trainer.  There will be no results at the box office.

In the Name of My Daughter:  Catherine Deneuve on the French Riviera in the 70s.   When she was really hot.

Dawn Patrol:  Scott Eastwood as a surfer whose brother is killed.  Go ahead and make my day Junior.

Club Life:  All about the kids populating the club scene in NY.  A great way to discover why I am worried about this country's future.

Freedom:  Cuba Gooding Jr. as a slave who escapes via the Underground Railway.  Good news:  Oprah's surprisingly not in this.

The Fourth Noble Truth:  An A-list movie star is busted from road rage and seduces his driving instructor.  There is nobody at the DMV that I want to be with.

The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed out the Window and Disappeared:  The title tells us the whole movie.  Done.

When Marnie Was There:  Hitchcock's Marnie was there in 1964.

Dinner last night:  Sausage and peppers at the uncomfortably steamy Citi Field.

  

And Today's Invasion of Privacy Is Brought to You By...

Well, okay, maybe I shouldn't blame them completely.  But a recent and bizarre connection to this store gives me another reason why it is much better to spend the day under my bed.

My quiet and restful evening at home was disrupted by a phone call.  

"Hi, this is Home Depot.  We want to confirm that this gentleman here is authorized to pick up the lawn mower and weed whacker you bought on line."

Say what?

"Did you purchase this items on line?"

Say what again?

She asked me if I was the person on the account.  And, to my astonishment, she read off my full name, home address, and phone number.  I noted that the first name used was Leonard which is my name on only two documents --- my driver's license and my income tax returns.

The store clerk started to figure out there was a problem.  Especially when she noticed while talking to me on the phone that the guy looking to pick up the weed whacker and lawn mower had just bolted out of the store.

I started to sweat.  I've had personal security breaches in the past, but that was all bank-related.  While talking to this girl on the phone, I went on-line to look at my bank account.  All was fine.   

I insisted on more details on this transaction which clearly was not mine but certainly scary enough.   I was pointed to the Home Depot card center for further details.

"Sir, these items were purchased on your Home Depot credit car."

Um, don't have one.

The credit guy again was able to recite my complete name, home address, and phone number.

I began to wonder if, like the IRS and the Federal Government, the California DMV had experienced a hacking.

I get more details for this dude.  The Home Depot that the thief tried to pick up the gardening tools was in Kern County.  Er, where is that?  Hmm, near Bakersfield?  Good.  Never been there in my life.  The e-mail address attached to the account with my name on it was "Markgreco@aol.com."  Also, not remotely me.

The entire transaction was stopped.   While on hold for a while, I listened to the automated advertisements.  Home Depot touting the ease and wonderment of their "Buy On-line, Pick Up in the Store" program.  Uh huh.  And, oh, yes, Home Depot tells me on hold...there was a recent security breach regarding Home Depot credit cards.   That would be good to know if I had one.   Because I was being ripped off without having one.

After profuse apologies all around, I still had little closure.  How did this happen?  My bank account is protected.  Is the process of getting a Home Depot credit card so simple that anybody can get one using another person's identity?

Well, they did it with my Social Security Number.   The grand slam of hacking.   This happened to me once before about 15 years ago.   I did all the usual resulting actions.   Credit reports.  New passwords.  Enhanced fraud alerts.

All of which, in our worlds, are becoming amazingly routine, he said sadly.
  
All I know is that there are bad people out there.  I am vacuuming up the dust and lint under my bed.  I want a clean spot to reside in the rest of my born days.

Dinner last night:  Sandwich in the NY apartment.

This Date in History - June 10

Happy birthday to Judy Garland.   Oh, I know she's dead and all.   But it still is her birthday.   Way, way, way over the rainbow.

671:  EMPEROR TENJI OF JAPAN INTRODUCES A WATER CLOCK CALLED ROKOKU.

And who's the one who introduced the puzzle called Sudoku?

1190:  FREDERICK I BARBAROSSA DROWNS IN THE RIVER SALEPH WHILE LEADING AN ARMY TO JERUSALEM.

Wasn't Barbarossa a movie with Jane Fonda?

1539:  POPE PAUL III SENDS OUT LETTERS TO HIS BISHOPS, DELAYED THE COUNCIL OF TRENT.

First known use of Constant Contact.

1596:  WILLEM BARENTS AND JACOB VAN HEEMSKERK DISCOVER BEAR ISLAND.

And then ran off it because...well...bears.

1692:  BRIDGET BISHOP IS HANGED AT GALLOWS HILL NEAR SALEM, MASSACHUSETTS FOR DETESTABLE ARTS CALLED WITCHCRAFT AND SORCERIES.

And Endora got away?

1793:  THE JARDIN DES PLANTES MUSEUM OPENS IN PARIS.  IT LATER BECOMES THE FIRST PUBLIC ZOO.  

Don't feed the Parisians.

1829:  THE FIRST BOAT RACE BETWEEN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD AND THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE TAKES PLACE.

Slow news day on June 10, 1829.

1854:  THE FIRST CLASS OF US NAVAL ACADEMY STUDENTS GRADUATE.

Hats in the air.

1871:  CAPTAIN MCLANE TILTON LEADS 109 US MARINES IN A NAVAL ATTACK ON KANGHWA ISLAND, KOREA.

And you thought we only fought there in the 1950s.

1889: ACTOR SESSUE HAYAKAWA IS BORN.

Says who?

1895:  ACTRESS HATTIE MCDANIEL IS BORN.

T'ain't fittin'.

1901:  COMPOSER FREDERICK LOEWE IS BORN.

The rain in Spain...

1916:  AN ARAB REVOLT AGAINST THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE LED BY LAWRENCE OF ARABIA BREAKS OUT.

And probably was over sooner than the movie.

1922:  ACTRESS JUDY GARLAND IS BORN.

I would have been named after her if I had been a girl.   But I wasn't.

1935:  DR. ROBERT SMITH TAKES HIS LAST DRINK AND ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS IS FOUNDED IN OHIO.

Hello, Robert.

1940:  US PRESIDENT FRANKLIN D. ROOSEVELT DENOUNCES ITALY'S ACTIONS WITH HIS "STAB IN THE BACK" SPEECH.

As opposed to his "pain in the forehead" speech just before he died.

1940:  DURING WORLD WAR II, ITALY DECLARES WAR ON FRANCE AND THE UNITED KINGDOM.

Stupido.

1944:  IN BASEBALL, 15-YEAR-OLD JOE NUXHALL OF THE CINCINNATI REDS BECOMES THE YOUNGEST PLAYER EVER IN A MAJOR-LEAGUE GAME.

Jeez, I can remember this guy still playing decades later.

1947:  BASEBALL STAR KEN SINGLETON IS BORN.

He was a big deal because he actually grew up in my home town of Mount Vernon, New York.

1959:  POLITICIAN ELIOT SPITZER IS BORN.

Politician...and crook.

1964:  THE US SENATE BREAKS A 75-DAY FILIBUSTER AGAINST THE CIVIL RIGHTS ACT OF 1964, LEADING TO THE BILL'S PASSAGE.

By the way, it was mostly Democrats opposing it.

1967:  THE SIX-DAY WAR ENDS WHEN ISRAEL AND SYRIA AGREE TO A CEASE FIRE.

It's good to know that it's been peaceful there ever since.

1967:  ACTOR SPENCER TRACY DIES.

Guess who's not coming to dinner.

1971:  ACTOR MICHAEL RENNIE DIES.

Klaatu barada nikto.

1973:  PLAYWRIGHT WILLIAM INGE DIES.

He wrote "Picnic."   Now he's under one.

1976:  FILM PRODUCER ADOLPH ZUKOR DIES.

His name is on the front of all those old Popeye cartoons.

1977:  JAMES EARL RAY ESCAPES FROM BRUSHY MOUNTAIN PRISON BUT IS RECAPTURED THREE DAYS LATER.

Well, that worked well, didn't it?

1977:  THE APPLE II, ONE OF THE FIRST PERSONAL COMPUTERS, GOES ON SALE.

There was probably no line.

1991:  ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD JAYCEE LEE DUGARD WAS KIDNAPPED IN LAKE TAHOE, CALIFORNIA.   SHE WOULD REMAIN A CAPTIVE UNTIL 2009.  

So she got tenure?

2002:  MOB BOSS JOHN GOTTI DIES.

I'll bet he was buried in a very nice suit and tie.

2003:  THE SPIRIT ROVER IS LAUNCHED, BEGINNING NASA'S MARS EXPLORATION ROVER MISSION.

Looking for Ray Walston.

2004:  SINGER RAY CHARLES DIES.

Georgia no longer on his mind.

Dinner last night:  Chef's salad again.

Whose Fault Is This?

There is almost a generic term called "mindless entertainment."   It usually refers to most movies that are released between Memorial Day and Labor Day.   Films that require very little thought and are primed to do nothing but sell tickets and popcorn with extra butter.  

"San Andreas" is that movie to the tee.  As mindless and insipid and stupid as they come.   With computer graphics that cost millions of dollars and a script that could have been purchased at the 99 Cent Store at the corner of Wilshire and Fairfax.  It's that kind of summer mess where you don't just leave your brain at the door, you can actually keep at home on your night table.

Yes, I went to see it.  Go figure.

Hell, I'm a sucker for earthquake movies.  I used to love the disaster movies that Irwin Allen used to produce.   Putting lots of big and former actors in peril on the roof of a skyscraper or the ballroom of a luxury liner or on top of the dam in the Hollywood Hills.  Who will live?  Who will die?  Whose toupee will fall off?   I was riveted throughout.

Of course, in "San Andreas," it's the state of California that is once again reduced to rubble and used Botox.  As if the water shortage and Jerry Brown as Governor isn't enough trouble for us.  But, if you're waiting for Paul Newman or Steve McQueen or Charlton Heston to save it, forget it.   Well, first of all, they're all dead.   But, there are some hasbeen thespians they could have employed for this swill.   So who do they get?

Carla Gugino.   You need to look her up on IMDB.

Alexandria Daddario.  You can barely find her on IMDB.

Ioan Gruffudd.  No relation to Elmer.

Yeah, nobodys.

So, that makes the star of the film that sought-after actor, Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson, who went to the Lee Strasburg Studio for Biceps.  As actors go, Dwayne should definitely do that.  Go, I mean.   When your film depends upon him for developing character and drive and emotion, you've apparently sunk way too much of your production budget into keep Craft Services stocked with Red Vines.

Of course, who goes to a dopey movie like this for the acting?  Okay, there is one dependable member of the cast.  Paul Giamatti as the cliche geologist who knows that three earthquakes, a tsunami, and Michelle Obama are coming to devastate Los Angeles and San Francisco.  No one, of course, listens to him, but, of course, nobody listened to the reviews of this movie because it made a fortune in its opening weekend.

A more ludicrous plot couldn't possible exist.   Dwayne, of course, is a LA First Responder who, when all the calamities start to hit, doesn't give a shit about the citizens of the state.   He simply wants to save his ex-wife and his daughter with the former being rescued as the sole survivor of seven different high rises that collapse in downtown LA.   Then, via helicopter, stolen truck, and speed boat, they high tail it up to San Francisco where they parachute into ATT Park like the Navy Seals do on opening day of the baseball season.  As he mentions to the missus, "I told you I would get you to second base."   Throughout the theater, you can hear the patrons slapping themselves in the head with disbelief.

It won't be the last time as the final hour of the film is a relentless series of explosions, implosions, and tidal waves.   Okay, the Giants ballpark gets leveled, too, and there was one big fist bump from yours truly.  But, overall, you are endlessly numbed by one disaster after another.  And, given how that Bay Bridge didn't hold up in 1989, it's shameful that the producers elected to show us that all over again.

But I suppose you don't expect logic from this kind of junk.   The type of film where one character goes through some horrific experience and all Dwayne Johnson can do is ask "are you all right?"  No, Stupid, a boulder crushed my legs and my hair is on fire.  Duh.

Indeed, "San Andreas" would have been more tolerable if you got to watch some real Grade B and C actors bite the dust.  Or have the whole thing populated with MSNBC hosts so we can gleefully watch as Rachel Maddow is decapitated by a falling glass window.  Ah, now, that would be fun.

But they heavied up on the computer graphics and cheapened down on the stunt casting.  God, why won't they let me make the next movie like this?  

For instance, at one point, there is a series of TV screens showing the coverage of all these disasters.   A CNN screen shows the White House and says it's been "rattled."   In Len's mind, the caption would have read as follows.

"Despite the devastation, President Obama refuses to cancel fund raising trip to the West Coast."

Now don't you want to see my version?

LEN'S RATING:   Two stars.

Dinner last night:  Chef's salad.