Month: March 2021

  • Personal Review: Cocktail (Film, 1988)

    There is a winding path to this story, so hang in there and follow me. And I guess I should also say; SPOILERS!

    Last night, the wife and I watched Cocktail, the 1988 Tom Cruise epic of bartending and love in NYC and Jamaica. I knew full well going into this movie that it wasn’t good, but I had never finished it. Maybe I had seen about half of it, but that would have been about 1990 or 1991 when we got a free preview of HBO on cable. Anyway, the wife was kidding me about not knowing how the film ends, and I joked, “What, does Tom win a bar tending competition in the end?”

    I was correct, in that I had seen about half of it, up to the point to where the movie moves to Jamaica. Anyway, I’m not going to kick this movie as we all know it’s not very good, but when film makes the hard right turn and Bryan Brown’s character commits suicide, my response was “Really?”

    “And you thought there was going to be a bartending competition?” my wife added with laughter.

    That having been said, it still was what I thought it would be; something to watch and don’t think too hard about it. Sure, maybe if the story stayed lite, not so much spurn the rich parent cliché, or my friend’s death make me change my life trope, and had a bar tending competition, and there was a bad guy “corporate” bartender who had no soul, who didn’t really “get” what bartending was all about… I mean, every bar movie can’t be Roadhouse, but still, you know, the little guy beating the big guy is always a crowd pleaser.

    But, to be honest, I needed to watch a movie like Cocktail last night. I couldn’t do another round of outrage news, or political comedy from Colbert or Seth. I needed a clearly silly escape after everything that has happened; a year of Covid, an election, people ignoring medical guidance, and everything else that seems to be a harbinger of the end of the world. I actually needed to see pretty people make mixed drinks in the Caribbean, and witness their very melodramatic reactions to life. And in the end, it all works out.

    So, maybe I will watch Roadhouse tonight.

  • Waiting My Turn for the Vaccine

    Is vaccine anxiety a thing? I mean, having anxiety about not having received your shot yet. That’s a thing, or it should be a thing.

    I’m not talking about anxiety of receiving the shot, like “I’m scared of needles,” anxiety. Not that.

    I’m also not talking about anxiety if the shot is safe, or will cause some awful side effect, or even crazy conspiracy theories.

    Nope. I’m talking about the anxiety I’m having just waiting for my turn.

    I’m trying to have patience, or at least I was. Last night, the thought that with all the variants out there, including this new New York City variant, that waiting for my turn is starting to get dicey, maybe even dangerous.

    Fear. This is fear, so let me just be honest. The tiniest speck of fear danced into my head.

    And that fear started kicking at the door of reason, as fear started asking me, why are all of these people getting vaccinated who shouldn’t be getting vaccinated? Social media keeps showing me pictures of people who are younger than me, who are not teachers, or first responders or in the medical field, or essential workers, getting vaccinated. Do all of these people have underlining medical conditions?

    And that fear started clawing open my logical side of thinking by asking, Am I being naïve by waiting my turn? Is everyone out there cheating to get the vaccine, and am I going to be left out in the cold, only to get sick with one of these super variants?

    But then Reason and Logic did take back over. I am healthy. I take precautions, like wearing a mask, social distancing, washing hands, staying home. There are many people out there who do need the vaccine more than I do right now. Also, the faster that the groups in front of me get vaccinated, the sooner it will be my turn.

    I have to remind myself that Covid isn’t the only disease out there. Fear is just as contagious.

  • Dressing Up Ivy Style

    Of the many things I did this weekend, I spent a good amount of time online, “window” shopping for shirts. Like, the type of Oxford solid colored shirts that I would wear to work. You know, when I had a job. I would look at these shirts on sale at J Crew and UniQlo, and think about how nice it would be to put on nice clothes for a reason.

    In the past year of lock down, I have bought three pair of shoes (running shoes, low-top All-Stars, and moccasin slippers) one pair of jeans, and pajamas. That’s it. My wardrobe has been stuck in stasis; an atrophy of style.

    I dress up for my kid’s doctor appointments. Not that I am trying to impress anyone at the pediatrician’s office. It’s just nice to have a reason to tuck in a shirt.

    I know this is a big reason that I am following so many #ivystyle people on Instagram. I like reminding myself that there was a formal world out there. That I might have a need to look professional again, and I should keep an eye out for a good tweed jacket, and the ties that would match with it.

    In that regard, I have been following Sean Crowley’s IG @crowley_vintage. From what I can gather, Sean used to be a designer at Ralph Lauren, and now has a shop in DUMBO on Front Street, by appointment only. His shop looks like a wonderland of Ivy/Oxford inspired style. I would like to set an appointment and stop by, but Covid, and the fact that I have a good feeling that items on sale at this store are WWWWAAAAAYYYYYY out of my price range, make me hesitant. I don’t want to expose myself to the disease, and I don’t want to waste Sean’s time if I cannot purchase anything, as I am still unemployed.

  • It’s Been a Year

    Someone pointed out to me that a year ago yesterday, Harvey Weinstein was sentenced to jail. That was a big win, and a long time coming. This goes without saying, Weinstein feels like a million years ago.

    A year ago, I had just got a job, and my first day of work was to be on the 16th in person, but it got rescheduled to be a Zoom training, and I was off working with a group of people I would never meet in person. I am thankful for that job, as it came at the right time and kept our family afloat. But… Pandemic… Laid off…

    But back in March of 2020, I was having trouble sleeping as both me and my wife were out of work, money was getting tight, not that it’s stopped being tight, and it felt like nothing was going break our way. It was like being punched in the stomach every night, but we tried to put on a brave face in the morning as we walked the kid to school.

    And on the kid’s last day of in person school, 3/13/20 but we didn’t know it would be the last day, the school was about half full with kids. It was eerie how quite the building was. Walking back to the apartment, the wife and I wondered if we made a mistake sending the kid to school that day. We knew there was a contagion out there, but we still thought that it wasn’t that bad.

    A year has gone by. 500,000 Americans are dead. Sometimes, I still have trouble wrapping my head around all of this.

  • Old Friend Birthday Wishes

    Old friends. I was struck by this idea this morning as I texted an old friend from college, wishing him a happy birthday. He’s in Texas, and I am in New York, but to be honest, we could be in the same town and that would not be a guarantee that we would be able to see each other.

    Old friends. I can say that now without irony. I have known him for 20 years. Our friendship is just about to be old enough to drink. I have a hand full of friends that I have known for over 35 years. Those friendships should start thinking about setting up retirement accounts.

    I am missing all of my friends, as we all are. I think things getting Spring-like warm in the City isn’t helping, as this would be the time that I would make an excuse to go take a walk around the park with a friend. To grab a seat on a bench with an old friend, and talk. Nothing complicated, just simple and basic; a conversation.

    Old friends who inhabit those fading pictures that were developed off of film are sprinkled on the walls of my home. The orange-yellowing of those images reflect the sanding of the sharp corners of my memories. It was all fun and silly, though those emotions then were stronger, and deeper, right? Only an old friend of mine could conform my nostalgia, or honesty.

    Happy birthday, old friend, and all of my old friends.