DISCO TURKEYS

It's Turkey Day! Last year, Eagleman found his way into the Mix. This year, I present the lowest point in American pop culture. I admit it's a chore to sit through the whole thing... Sparkly costumes! Wooden choreography! No discernible vocal talent ('cept for Florence Henderson)! Still, make sure to stick around for Rerun.

COPLEY SQUARE SUNSET

Sunsets are fleeting, providing only a brief envelope in which to capture them. Luckily, I had some time to kill walking between one station and another on my evening commute a few weeks ago.

WHITE PICKET KITTY CATS

I hope to post a photo essay on the lovely, gorgeous Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens in the near future. For now, a peek at my favorite part, located in the Children's Garden.



This white picket fence may seem unspectacular from afar, but look closer...

That's right: a feline fence.

These silent but watchful kitties guard this little shack 24/7. Adorable and just a tad spooky, I wouldn't mind having them encompass my home.

THE BEACH, AT LAST

We drove up to Ipswich last weekend to see my friend Diane. It was one of those rare late September afternoons that felt more like late July. As a town resident, Diane has free access to Crane Beach--it was my second, and likely last time at a beach this year. Some highlights:

I'D RATHER BE DEAD (THAN WET MY BED)

I first saw a clip from this in a new-ish documentary about Harry Nilsson that I hope to post a review of soon. It's like something out of SCTV or (as one commenter notes) Monty Python, but it's also achingly sincere--a thing of deranged beauty, if you will.

MOUNTAINS BEYOND MOUNTAINS

When in Maine, we usually stay close to the coast: Portland, York Beach, Freeport. For a change, we visited the charming, sleepy town of Bethel, about 70 miles Northwest of Portland in the Western Maine mountains. Dotted with modest inns, restaurants and shops (and no recognizable chains), it has a fairly unassuming Main Street, except maybe at sunset.



We stayed at the Sudbury Inn; you can see our room here on the second floor's front corner. Apart from the complimentary breakfasts, we did not dine at the Inn's restaurant, although we frequented the subterranean Suds Pub more than once.



Most of Western Maine contains a refreshing lack of kitsch; I'm not sure this gigantic phone in Bryant Pond (about 10 miles down the road from Bethel) even qualifies as such since it's a memorial sculpture dedicated to Barbara and Elden Hathaway, owners of "the very last hand crank magneto telephone system" in the country.



Steve and I came to Maine not only to celebrate our anniversary, but to get out of the city and commune with nature. Our first stop was at the Sunday River covered bridge in nearby Newry.



Across the street, I spotted this curious, obviously hand-made warning. It's two, two signs in one!



The region is full of signs I've never seen before, like this one at a Route 2 rest stop. Naturally, it entices me to peel those birches all the more.



After the covered bridge, we ventured over to Sunday River itself, a vast ski resort that attracts hikers and bikers during the summer months. We took the "chondola" up the hill...



...and this was the view at the top.



Encouraged by one of the resort's friendly staff, we took an impromptu hike up to Barker Mountain. On a Sunday morning, we had the trail practically all to ourselves...



...except for an assortment of butterflies. I swear this one actually posed for us.



The next day, we visited the White Mountains across the border in New Hampshire. On the way, we made a pit shop in teeny tiny Shelburne because this lovely old church caught our eye from the highway.



Next door to the church: I'm guessing Cobalt Blue Wine Bottle trees are indigenous only to Shelburne.



The White Mountains teemed with fog--spooky, but eerily beautiful. We took a "zipride" at another one of the local resorts. It was like riding downhill in a chondola, only you're tightly strapped into a single seat and your arms and legs flail about. No pictures because they wouldn't let you ride with a camera, but sadly the ride wasn't quite as exciting as it looked from the ground.



Eventually, the fog lifted, and we drove along the Kancamagus Highway, which runs east to west through the mountains.



We made a number of stops along the way, the most memorable being the Rocky Gorge Scenic Area where the water was as vivid and clear as the bold, blue skies.



I could have spent hours lazing about there.

Overall, there wasn't a heck of a lot to do in Bethel and the surrounding area; three nights was probably just the right amount of time. Fortunately, I didn't mind the languid pace. For once, it was nice not having any place particular to be. I leave you with a few scenic overlooks along the Kancamagus:

DOG DAYS

Obviously, Five Things will not be a weekly feature; at this point, who knows if it will return at all. I don't care, I'm on vacation! In the meantime, enjoy this pic of Maggie my parents took during their whirlwind visit last week, and check back later in the month for some potentially ambitious stuff.

INTRODUCING FIVE THINGS

I have grand ideas for many potential blog posts, but procrastinator that I am, I can't seem to finish (much less start) any of 'em. So, to get this blog active again, I am going to try to post about five things that interest me every week. Some will have a paragraph written about them (or more); others may be lucky to get one sentence. I will also include photographs and links because sometimes I fear I won't have five things to write fluently about. But it will give me something to aim for.



1. OVO (Cirque du Soleil)

Before this weekend, my vague impression of Cirque du Soleil was that of an arty, expensive Quebecois entertainment setting up shop in town once or twice a year with one inexplicably named production (Kooza? Zumanity?) after another. Having now seen one of these shows, I can confirm I wasn’t too far off the mark. The insect-themed OVO opens with a ginormous egg in center stage, which hatches to reveal the cast, all men and women clad in elaborate, eye-popping costumes that resemble grasshoppers, red ants, a spider, a fruit fly, a ladybug, and many others I did not quite recognize. Combining graceful ballet with impressive acrobatics and accompanied by a lovely, airy score (performed live by an orchestra, some of whom appeared on stage dressed as snails), the show was equally wistful and weird. I enjoyed it immensely.

2. RESTREPO

I’ve always struggled with war films (both fiction and docs)—it’s possibly my least favorite genre. But I loved THE HURT LOCKER and if this isn’t exactly its real-life equivalent, that’s fine because it attempts something else. Not to say war’s psychological effects aren’t explored (they make for some of the most intense, touching moments), but Sebastian Junger's and Tim Hetherington’s in-the-trenches-of-Afghanistan doc amazes primarily for its access in which it closely follows a platoon in combat for one year. Fortunately, the filmmakers know they’re making a film and not just a document—the narrative threads and personalities that emerge cohere and compel as well as any screenplay without feeling scripted at all.

3. Just a few (of many) things to love about the MAD MEN Season 4 premiere (spoilers ahoy!):

*Peggy’s more sophisticated (but still not overly swanky) new ‘do.
*Henry’s refreshingly no-nonsense mother (she astutely refers to Betty as a “silly woman”).
*Adorable new office underling Joey (Matt Long), whom I suspect will turn out to be more than a random addition.
*Kiernan Shipka (young brat Sally Draper) has made the opening credits at last.
*Don Draper getting slapped in the face (repeatedly) by a prostitute.

4. As I’m less than a hundred pages away from finishing The Satanic Verses (at last!), which one of these unread books on my shelf I should try next? The Portable Dorothy Parker, or Word Virus: The William S. Burroughs Reader? Leave a comment if you feel passionate about one or the other.

5. A most fetching portrait spotted at the British Brewing Company in Framingham this past weekend:



Maggie should appear so classy.

WHITE MATERIAL

In her previous film 35 SHOTS OF RUM, Claire Denis focused on a father and daughter of African descent living in France; here, she shifts her attention to a French family who owns a coffee plantation in Africa. Whereas race and living as a minority in an adopted homeland provided only a subtext in the earlier film, it's at the dead center of this one. Maria (Isabelle Huppert), who entered this business (and continent) via marriage, manages the plantation. When the French military exits the region due to war among local tribes, she disregards their warnings to follow, determined to hold on to this life she's so invested in. Initially, her steadfastness appears admirable and brave, but as blatant hostility towards the family escalates, her actions merely seem stubborn and not without hubris (although Huppert lends her some much-needed empathy).

While Denis rarely makes the same film twice, WHITE MATERIAL feels like a different beast for the director. For all of its expected touches (another evocative Tindersticks score, the casting of Michael Subor in a small but pivotal role), it also throws in a few curveballs such as a cinematographer other than Denis regular Agnes Godard (Yves Cape, whose hand-held work is in stark contrast from Godard's poetic, gorgeous imagery) and a far more pronounced, straightforward narrative structure. I applaud Denis for leaving her comfort zone a little, and an unnerving scene where a child army slowly emerges from the dark woods is as mesmerizing as anything in her oeuvre--but I'd rather she kept the story more ambiguous, more mysterious. Apart from one shocking moment, we suspect what kind of finale the film is hurtling towards too far in advance.

6 MONTHS DOWN...

Last year at this time, I had already seen my favorite film and heard my favorite album of the year. Here's where we stand for favorites in 2010 so far (in alphabetical order, of course).

FILMS:

Exit Through The Gift Shop
Fish Tank
Howl
I Am Love
I Killed My Mother
Marwencol
Micmacs
Mother
Please Give
Winter's Bone

ALBUMS:

David Byrne & Fatboy Slim (and many others), Here Lies Love
Field Music, Measure
Charlotte Gainsbourg, IRM
Goldfrapp, Head First
LCD Soundsystem, This is Happening
Ted Leo and The Pharmacists, The Brutalist Bricks
Joanna Newsom, Have One On Me
Gil Scott-Heron, I'm New Here
Spoon, Transference
Tracey Thorn, Love and Its Opposite

A WALK THROUGH P-TOWN

I have sort of a love/hate relationship with Provincetown, an artist colony/gay-friendly tourist enclave on the tip of Cape Cod.



Although the insularity, attitude and marked-up prices on everything tend to grate after awhile, P-Town can be a fantastic, almost otherworldly spot for a weekend getaway, given the right accomodations (I've had a few less-than-ideal B&B experiences); thankfully, we stayed in a nice little rental this time out.



If the town has an identifiable landmark, it's undoubtedly the Provincetown Monument.



The library (a former church) also stands out among the more rustic Cape homes, although it seems to be in a perpetual state of restoration.



As usual, Steve and I came for the Provincetown International Film Festival (The Art House Cinema, pictured above, is one of its venues). In its 12th year, PIFF is still going strong--most screenings I attended were close to full. I saw many films and gave everything good-to-great ratings, except for a few shorts (I never learn with those festival shorts programs).

Although I skipped out on the awards ceremony, that night I did briefly spot honoree Tilda Swinton (tall, luminous, dressed in white) happily strolling down the main drag. I ran off to notify a few friends, but by the time we returned she and her male companion had disappeared into the night.



Geographically, P-Town is long and narrow. That main drag, the aptly-named Commercial Street spans from East to West with an overload of signage.



Sometimes, the signs line up in pleasant symmetry...



...and occasionally, one has a wide canvas all to itself. Still, the signs don't entirely distract from the gorgeous gardens that dot the front yards of both businesses and residences:









One evening, we checked out my favorite part of town, the sleepy West End. We dined at Sal's, an adorably rustic Italian restaurant.



As night fell, a few of the town's oddities surfaced through the coastal fog, such as this jolly, beguiling Buddha...



...and this welcoming (if stoic) statue, which looked like it was once a part of a ship's figurehead.



Look closely enough and you may catch something looking back at you.



On our final morning in town, we walked beyond the West End to an edge of the world, peering out at the mighty Atlantic. A sight of expansive marshland, the dunes, and a beach (though one can barely make it out from this distance) suggests a multitude of possibilities:









I leave you with a close-up of the library's cupola, illuminated by a peaceful P-Town sun.