Cultureguru's Weblog

Of food, technology, movies, music, and travel—or whatever else strikes my fancy


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Cheap Trick

As I kept telling people, Cheap Trick was not a band I’d go out of my way to see in concert.

But Kitchener’s Centre in the Square is only a 15-minute drive away. So when I heard that Cheap Trick was playing there, on a night I didn’t have anything else booked, I figured, why not?

I was somewhat into Cheap Trick back in the day. I owned the At Budokan and Dream Police albums. I knew all the words to “The Flame”. I thought that Robin Zander and Tom Petersson were babes and hung their pictures on my wall.

But it wasn’t a band I’d particularly kept up with lo these many years. Still, when it’s easy, and I could score 4th row centre seats at a reasonable price, why not go?

Initially Jean thought that he couldn’t join me, but his work schedule changed such that he could. I was pleased to have company, and he ended up pleased to be at the show.

My goodness, they were entertaining! 30 seconds in, and Robin Zander made it clear that he had lost none of his vocal power.

He also still looks pretty good…

Guitarist Rick Neilsen, still the eccentric, had a never-ending parade of guitar changes, with many quirky designs. But what mad skills! These are guitar solos I quite enjoyed (for one, none were that long).

A not-so-quirky guitar (but I can’t say the same about the guitarist)

Tom Petersson (who also still looks pretty good) took vocals on one song. Original drummer Bun E. Carlos is no longer with the band, but their replacement is fantastic.

It was a fun, fast, efficient set, song, song, song, not too much chatter–though they did do a bit of reminiscing about past Canadian tours and having to eat seal flipper pie in Moncton. (“I had never even heard of Moncton.”)

Where some classic bands have amassed an audience with a wide age range, this Cheap Trick crowd was largely Generation X. And they were totally going back there, some even standing up to slow dance, high school style, during “The Flame”.

I stood up myself when they launched into “I Want You to Want Me”, until I started feeling vaguely rude and sat down again. Still, I like to think I started a trend, as the entire crowd leapt to their feet for the next song, “Dream Police”, and stayed there through the remaining hits, hits, hits which with they finished the show.

I’ve been having a bit of a tough time lately, and this night out was quite the tonic. So much fun. Even the songs I didn’t know had that distinct Cheap Trick sound, so I liked them, too. They are the quintessential rock band, but in a not very rock move, they started promptly at 8:00 and had us out shortly after 9:30 (in time to catch most of the Raptors game).

And I left with my very own Rick Neilsen guitar pick (as he tosses them into the crowd freely): “We’re all all right!” it says. And we were.

It would even have been worth going out of my way.


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Well, that worked out

Back in December, I wrote about going through one of life great stressors: buy tickets to a hot concert on TicketMaster. (And yes, I am mocking myself by calling that a great life stressor.) I said in that post that my experience of rather easily acquiring floor seats for Who concert was likely at once-in-lifetime thing.

Well, not so. Because apparently the key to having a less stressful ticket-buying experience is to get tickets to see The Who (vs Queen + Adam Lambert who, thanks to Bohemian Rhapsody, are one of the hottest touring acts this year).

I wasn’t even going to make an effort to get pre-sale tickets for The Who concert, but then I stumbled upon a code. I tried it, it worked, and there were only two (2) people in the “Waiting room” ahead of me (vs. 2000 for Queen + Adam Lambert). I found seats that were OK, not wonderful, but acceptable, so got those.

But then came the general sale and I thought, well, what the heck, let’s see what’s available. In the Waiting room, there were two (2) people ahead of me. Then when I got in, I was able to calmly peruse and see that there were far better seats available than I had already purchased. At not much more than I paid for those.

Then I did get slightly stressed, but soon figured, what the heck. Surely I can sell the first two?

And I ended up with floor seats again.

I fairly promptly put the first two seats on sale, not trying to make a profit, but just priced to get my money back. Ticketmaster adds their own charge, though, so they would have been more expensive than the originals.

Then I waited. The show was on June 1.

May 1 rolled around, and no interest. I decided to drop the price. Ticketmaster limits how much you can drop it by, but I went for that. But still no nibbles.

And then I got this message:

And you know what that meant? That meant I could get a full refund on the two tickets I didn’t need.

(Reason for the reschedule? Possible Raptors playoff game. Go Raptors! I guess.)

And this rather makes up for having to wait longer, and having the show be on a Tuesday instead of a Saturday, which is less convenient. But I also heard that the shows–The Who playing with a full symphony–are good, but do need some kinks worked out. They should be in fine form by September.

Rehearsal and concert footage from the Buffalo show


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This is my brain on perimenopause

Saturday there was a light dusting of snow on the ground, which is not what you want to see in April. The day was gray and cold. The hopes that spring had sprung were somewhat dashed.

And yet, I felt great–optimistic, even chipper. I had slept well. I was able to focus on my tasks, enjoy my food. Appreciate the comic stylings of Crazy Rich Asians (the film, available from your local library).

What struck me in particular was how long it had been since I’d felt that good. And yet, in terms of what’s going on in my life, there’s no real reason not to feel generally content.

The good feeling must have sensed it was in a foreign host, for it fled in the night. I took a while to fall asleep, than awoke with various worries, at 3:00, 4:00, 5:00. Once up for good, I met a day that was still cool but quite nice and sunny, so I pushed to do things I thought might help. Take a walk in the sun. Play the piano. Listen to my “Get Happy” playlist.

It was in the middle of the song “Happy” (by Pharrel Williams) that I became weepy, overcome by the thought that some injury or illness 10 years hence would interfere with my retirement plans.

For freak’s sake. It’s ridiculous.


I bought a book about menopause. It’s most definitely not happening yet (though I’m pretty excited to have made it all the way to day 29 without a period). But there is this “perimenopausal” stage? And I’m in that.

One of my emotional issues is that I can get fixated on worries about my health. I thought that if I could read about what symptoms I could attribute to a perfectly normal process of aging, that would help. Only then I got worried: what if some of my symptoms can’t be ascribed to that?

So I actually made an appointment with my doctor to discuss any physical changes that I had noticed, just to make sure they didn’t sound like anything bad. (Like endometrial cancer.) Which they didn’t. So, thanks Canadian healthcare system, now I can read my book. (And hey, the itchiness is a symptom of pending menopause! Who knew?)

From the “Moods and you” chapter:

The mood swings associated with menopause often aren’t predictable. One day, you’re laughing with your partner as you make plans for the future. The next day, you’re crying over a greeting card commercial and snapping at your partner over, literally, spilled milk.

Stephanie S. Faubion, MD: The Menopause Solution

(Jean still has a bit of post traumatic stress over my (over)reaction to his crime of eating the last banana. Maybe someday he’ll be able to tell you about it.)

Now, it’s not exactly unknown to me to gets fixated on strange worries–I recall once that a series of stressors led me to somehow get into an emotional spiral whenever the Canadian dollar fell in value. Admittedly, we were about to go to Italy, but it wasn’t exactly a Venezuela (hyper deflation) situation. Plus, we were about to go to Italy! That’s a good thing!

But that was actually a long time ago, and this whole moodiness thing has been happening for months, though sometimes more acutely than others. And it’s not always related to some logical event. Like, McSteamy’s death obviously made me very sad, but that was a normal response, and I didn’t get to wallowing in depression afterward. Instead I’m raging about bananas, worrying about what I’ll do if I have a stroke or something when I’m 72 (and to top it off, my math was all wrong on that worry), and feeling anxious about Jean going away on business for a few days (something I’m pretty used to? And he calls me daily!).

In fact, research suggests that some anxiety symptoms, such as nervousness and worry, occur more frequently during perimopause than at any time before it.

Stephanie S. Faubion, MD: The Menopause Solution

Huh. This is my brain on perimenopause.


And that could go on for years, I guess (seguing into whatever wonders menopause itself brings), so what do I do?

Back to the book.

Which tells me that I’m exhibiting all the symptoms of stress, at least to some degree: Eating less. Lacking focus. Short fuse. Sleep problems. Control issues. Aches and pains. Motivation issues. And those overlap with some depression symptoms. I don’t think I’m full-out depressed yet, but it’s threatening.

The book reminds that exercising regularly is important, something I haven’t been quite as good about as late. And that mindfulness can help, while I haven’t meditated in ages. “Practicing gratitude” is another concept I struggle with. Not that I don’t realize I have many things in my life to be thankful for, but thinking about them doesn’t seem to bring me comfort. Maybe because I don’t think I’ve done much to earn them. Maybe because I then become worried about losing them.

Then there’s the whole “talk to someone” idea. Which I also generally suck at. (They’re my problems. Sharing them with you will make me look weak.) But here I am telling you, anonymous (and not-so-anonymous) blog-reading people. (If you actually scrolled down this far, congratulations!)

But, maybe I should find a group. Maybe I should tell a friend (like, in person). Maybe I should explore cognitive behavioral therapy.

Cause it may be perimenopausal, but it’s the only brain I got.


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Short bits

Trying to write a longer, coherent blog post on one topic was not working, so here’s a series of short takes, instead.

What I’m watching

All of the time I’ve not been spending writing has really opened up time to watch TV. Nothing is at the level of Travelers, but here are the current favorites, per source.

Warning:

Will not include Game of Thrones, because I have yet to see a single episode of that.

Network TV: The Orville

Seth McFarlane’s take on Star Trek. I’ve always liked this show more than I would have expected, and it’s become kind of serious this year, making me like it even more. Hope it gets renewed!

Netflix: Santa Clarita Diet

Back for season 3, and I’m still loving it. You have to admire Joel and Sheila’s ability to make a marriage work despite her being undead and thus having to eat people.

Crave: Orphan Black

I know, finally, right? I always thought I would like this show, but it wasn’t until my free 3-month trial of Crave that I finally put it to the test. Tatiana Manslany is just amazing in playing all these different clones (and clones pretending to be other clones). And the story has so much twisty goodness! We’re nearly done Season 2.

Amazon Prime: Catastrophe

The humour is a bit much for Jean, but I’m going to see it through! After all, it’s only six episodes per season, and I only have two left (episodes, not seasons). A very unsentimental look at marriage, but I think I love it for the sentimental reason that these two really love each other.

Also because they’re really funny.

How is Zoë doing?

Very well, thanks. She’s adapting to life as an only cat, and getting way more attention than she used to seems to suit her. She’ll never be cuddly, exactly, but she does like to be pet, tolerates being picked up, and will even lie down on us, as long as we put a blanket barrier between her and us. (Bit of an odd duck, Zoë.) She’s also been pretty chatty, and occasionally even purry.

She also likes her new cat tree

News, ugh

I’m rather missing the days when, as a Canadian, you could feel kind of smug while reading the news from elsewhere. But now we have Quebec passing blatantly racist laws, unashamed they violate Charter rights; an Ontario government denying help to kids with disabilities; the Trudeau Liberals deciding that Canada should not be so welcoming of refugees after all; and Alberta about to elect a party full of alarming candidates, including the leader.

Reading about Brexit has almost been a relief. Of course, that’s also a story about irresponsible leadership, from so many sides, causing harm—and you have to feel bad for those who voted to Remain. But the degrees and varieties of incompetency have just been so interesting! (Though with yet another extension, the drama might start to wear thin.)

And, if you haven’t already read the comparison of Brexit to building a submarine out of cheese (an oldie but a goodie), do yourself a favor and do that. Here’s the first tweet:

Then you can see the rest of the thread, and the responses, here: Guy Explains Brexit In 12 Hilarious Tweets And It Will Crack You Up.

We will still need a song

I’ve been listening to more George Michael lately, after watching the George Michael: Freedom documentary on Crave. It was so good! Assuming you have some fondness for George Michael, of course. It made me realize that I really needed to check out his oeuvre beyond the Faith album and the “Freedom ’90” song. He made good music long beyond that.

Heard some good live music, too. Like The Beatles One show last night, a good reminder that this band could really put together a tune, and that a shit-ton of them went to number one. We also enjoyed hearing a subset of the KW Symphony perform Vivaldi’s “The Four Seasons” (subset because that piece doesn’t require a whole orchestra), led by guest violinist Nikki Chooi. It was just riveting. The whole 40 minutes of it.

Also exceeding expectations was Drayton Theatre’s performance of the musical Priscilla: Queen of the Desert. A terrific cast, creative staging, enormously fun song list. And really something to see the usual Drayton crowd of grandparents, kids, parents all totally there for this celebration of gay pride.


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Finding fiction

A tip on reading more books that I’ve found useful is to just embrace having more than one on the go at a time. Prevents any one book from feeling like a slog that is stopping you from moving on to your new, shiny books.

Personally I aim to have at least one fiction and one non-fiction book in progress. Non-fiction isn’t so hard to line up—just go with subjects I’m interested in. Fiction is tougher. I now see why so many people love genres of fiction: makes it easier if your aim is to have a bunch of mysteries, romances, or sci fi novels at the ready.

But if your genre is, basically, General Fiction? Quite a bit tougher to narrow that down. I seek inspiration everywhere.

The Music Shop by Rachel Joyce

Source: Spotted it in a book store (but later bought the ebook)

A love story, of sorts, between an eccentric owner of record store—as in LPs, at the time when everybody was buying CDs (and maybe cassettes)—and a mysterious young woman who swooned outside the shop one day. She claims to know nothing about music. He agrees to teach her about it.

That’s the best part of this book, to me—the in-depth discussions of great exemplars of different types of music: jazz, rock, classical, R&B… Makes you want to rush out and listen to what’s being discussed. Fortunately, the book comes with a Spotify playlist:

I do not know what the book’s main character would have thought of Spotify…

An American Marriage by Tayah Jones

Source: Barack Obama recommendation

A novel about a recently married couple in which the husband is wrongfully convicted of sexual assault. The wife has no doubt of her husband’s innocence; nonetheless, he faces a long incarceration away from her. How do you manage that?

Much of the novel is told as a series of letters. The story does not proceed on a predictable path, but it is plausible one. Thanks, Obama.

Young Jane Young by Gabrielle Zevin

Source: Kobo (ebook seller) recommendation

A work of fiction built around the story of a young woman who has an affair with the older, married, male Senator she’s an intern for. Shades of Monica Lewinski, yes, though that affair is mentioned in the novel as the news that drives her own story out of the headlines.

What’s interesting is that the story is told exclusively from the point of view of the women involved: the intern, her mother, her daughter (the story covers many years), and the Senator’s wife. And you’re not always sure who is who, at least not right away. I loved the approach and really got caught up in this novel.

Asymmetry by Lisa Halliday

Source: New York Times best books of 2018

This one didn’t work out!

The novel is in three parts. The first two seem unrelated. The third is supposed to bring them together. I read the first part, about a love affair between a young woman and much older man (a writer). They were interesting characters, but they didn’t really do much. There wasn’t much plot happening.

Before proceeding, I look into other reviews. They said that the second part was less interesting than the first, and that the supposed connection you find out about in the third is tenuous, maybe unfathomable. So, I gave up on this one.

The Flight Attendant by Chris Bohjalian

Source: Recommendation from The Washington Post

Cassandra Bowden, a flight attendant and a binge drinker, wakes from drunken stupor to find that the man she spent the night in Dubai with has been murdered. What to do?

If there’s one genre I do tend to return to, it’s the thriller, and this one is somewhat reminiscent of The Girl on the Train. Unlike that novel, however, it’s clear early on in this story that Cassandra did not murder her lover. But her lack of memory about what happened complicates her situation. And her frequently poor judgment often makes things worse.

This was a pretty fun read. I got it as a library ebook and had to binge read through the last parts because someone else had put a hold on it and I wanted to know how it ended.

Non-fiction

I’ve been in a bit of a rut here, of musician bios.

Thanks a Lot, Mr. Kibblewhite is Roger Daltrey’s breezy, easy-reading autobiography. You can tell that it was built from Roger telling his story to the writer he worked with, who assembled the pieces into a coherent narrative.

It is an interesting story, starting in the deprivations of post-war London and continuing up to closing out the Olympic Games, making a triumphant return to Hyde Park, and nearly dying of viral meningitis. With many entertaining anecdotes on the way, from Keith Moon’s antics to the many women in his life (and a number of surprise children) to The Who’s financial challenges and musical triumphs.

I can recommend this one as being appealing even to more casual fans of The Who, as Jean and I listened to the audiobook version (read by Roger Daltrey) and Jean was approving. He had a much higher opinion of Mr. Daltrey by the end of reading this than he had going in.

Unlike with Roger Daltrey’s book, which I preordered and read pretty promptly, this one has been sitting on the bookshelf for a while. I ended up quite enjoying it, though.

This Ray Davies’ second autobiography. Though it does some moving back and forth in time, it’s told in a much more straightforward fashion than his first, which employed a faux, third-party narrator. Here, Ray just writes his own story, focusing on The Kinks relationship with America, and therefore covering the period starting in the early 1970s when the band’s work ban was lifted. It includes the whole 1980s “arena rock” period during which I discovered The Kinks and became a fan, so was of particular interest.

Ray discusses some of his relationships he was in during this time, but with considerable discretion, so if you’re hoping for dirt on his volatile relationship with Chrissie Hynde, you’ll be disappointed. It’s mostly about the music, the band, and his uneasy relationship with the US itself—culminating in his shooting by a mugger in New Orleans. Getting shot is no joke, it turns out…

Another book with a soundtrack (yes, there’s also a Part 1; I just prefer Part 2)


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52 candles

Not a particularly significant birthday this year, so I wasn’t thinking too much about it. However, some months ago, when looking to pick a date to go see Sting’s The Last Ship in Toronto, I figured why not pick my birthday weekend.

Then events got built around that. I took the Friday off (to do a whole lot of nothing special—but still better than a work day). And I noticed that the KW Comedy Festival was having their opening gala the Thursday night before, so I got tickets.

I don’t think it was as strong as last year. My favorite act of the first half was Arthur Simeon, originally from Uganda but now living in Toronto. In the second half it was Emily Galati, the only woman featured, along with the headliner, Sean Majunder. The rest of the comedians were a bunch of white guys. And to be fair, one of them, host Derek Seguin, provided the evening’s most hilarious bit, in his description of the challenges of man-scaping.

But overall, it was some absurdist comedy, which is not really my thing, and a lot of jokes about their kids, or about why they don’t have kids—maybe one of the few safe subjects for white guys to joke about these days? But not as effective, for me, as Simeon, Galati, and Majunder’s takes on politics, social media, racism, and sexism. Tricky time to be funny, I guess, but the event would have benefited from more diversity than it had.

Everywhere you go, always take the weather

When we booked our bus to Toronto, we discovered that the Greyhound schedule isn’t as good as it used to be. Not as many buses, and they all have more stops. (This is just annoying. It’s not as though the train service is any better on Saturdays.) There was one bus that would have gotten us there around 10:50, which would have been ideal, but it would have taken three hours. So we went with the one that scheduled to arrive around 11:30, because it was only supposed to take two hours.

I didn’t think the forecasted 2 cm of snow would really affect it, but I was wrong. For one, I think it was somewhat more snow than that. Regardless, it slowed down all the traffic. We clearly weren’t going to make our 12:15 lunch reservation, so I texted my sister about that, and suggested that she could order for us, and we’d aim to arrive by 1:00.

Off the bus, we had trouble finding a cab, so we called an Uber, and initially had trouble finding them, too, but we did connect. Only to find that they had the wrong Holiday Inn listed as the destination, which I needed to change in the app. Which was not as easy to do as one would hope. By the time I finally got it to work (Jean’s suggestion to turn off wifi was key), we were there!

Fortunately, hotel check-in went smoothly, and calling a second Uber to take us to lunch was drama-free. We ate the O&B Canteen at the TIFF Bell Lightbox. A bit pricey for what you got ($19 for a burger?), but everything was very good.

I didn’t know a whole lot about The Last Ship other than that Sting wrote the music (it was not one of those musicals built around an artist’s famous songs), inspired by the ship building heritage of his home town. But it was really good! Strong cast, great singers, and a very moving story. In the first half, I was kind of with the capitalists (“Be realistic! The ship building industry is dying!”) and identifying with the characters who felt they just had to leave the town to secure their futures elsewhere. But by the end of the second half, I was totally with the workers.

We had an hour after the play before our dinner reservation, which gave us time to walk back to the hotel, and stay there briefly before walking to dinner at Buca Yorkville.

That was a fine meal. We started with three kinds of house-cured fish, which were small taste sensations. We added in a nice rosemary foccacia that was served with the most amazing olive oil. As a main, I had chestnut-stuffed ravioli with porcini, that was just fantastic, and a side of Swiss chard.

Buca Yorkville mmmmm!

Jean had the day’s special of uni spaghetti, also good, but not quite as good as the ravioli.

Uni Spagetti (Sea Urchin)

The wine with that was the waiter’s suggestion of an Italian Riesling, which did work well.

For dessert, Jean went with the waiter’s suggestion of the affogato using decaf espresso, and it really was delicious (they make their own ice cream). I also enjoyed the cranberry millefeuilles that I had.

Birthday Girl!

Apart from the candle on the dessert plate, as my birthday bonus I got a takeout of fresh pasta with little containers of olive oil and pepper and little containers of cheese. And instructions on how to cook this into a meal for two. This I did this past Thursday, and it was very nice.

The whole experience somewhat reminded of New York dining: Impeccable service, fantastic food, but no dawdling. One course arrived promptly after another, and we were done by 8:00. Probably because they needed the table for someone else.

Lazing on a Sunday afternoon

After that rather packed Saturday, it was nice not to have anything planned ahead for Sunday, other than our bus back. We had breakfast at Cora, and decided it was better than the Cora we’d tried previously (forget where, but not the one in KW). We then decided to visit the ROM, as they were featuring this year’s winners of the Wildlife Photography contest. That exhibit was terrific, again. The work to get some of those shots!

We then visited the “Treasures of the Earth” exhibit, that I don’t recall having been to before. It featured some beautiful minerals, gems, meteorites, and rocks, and had a section on Canadian mining, in which my home town featured prominently.

Gold from Northern Ontario mines

Since Richmond Station is very difficult to get dinner reservations at, but recently started opening Sundays, we thought we’d try to just go there and see if we could get in for a late lunch. It worked! We got a table.

To start, with shared the duck liver pate—creamy and rich. Then I had the lamb forestiere cavatelli, while Jean had duck two ways. We had a half-glass of sparkling to start with that, then a glass of red each. We were left too full for dessert.

Duck Paté at Richmond Station!

All that was left was to gather our luggage back at the hotel, then get to the station. There was a bit of Uber drama here too, that I won’t get into. But we made it to the station in plenty of time, and that bus was not delayed.


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And now, for something more trivial

Jean says I need a new post to replace the sad one. So, how about them Oscars, eh? (This is a topic Jean will find boring, but I assume that’s a preferable feeling.)

I have the PVR set to record the Academy Awards (plus the News at 11:00 pm that will, in fact, be the Academy Awards, continuing into overtime). But I do plan to watch the opening live. Because this:

Can you say squeee!!! (Even though the news has brought out the Adam Lambert haters. Get over yourselves!)

But, I can’t say how much of the rest I’ll watch live, since there are only some categories I’m interested. And the show does go kind of late for a school night.

Best Picture

Unlike the actual awards, I’ll start here. No clear front runner this year! I don’t really expect Bohemian Rhapsody to take it, though if it did, I would be quite tickled. Can’t honestly argue that it deserves the honor, though. While I still think a lot of the criticism of it was on a weak foundation (that it should have aspired to documentary realism or portrayed Freddie in the way that individual imagined him to be), it remains true that some of the dialogue was clunky, and a number of the scenes were cliche (Freddie walks off in the rain, alone…[where is he going? Does he even have a wallet?]). It would deserve a Most Entertaining Picture award, but this is supposed to be Best Picture.

best_picture_poster

Of the remaining contenders, I’ve seen four. Black Panther was a very smart superhero movie, and probably what I’d like to see win if not BoRhap. A Star Is Born hasn’t done too well this award season. I liked it, but it didn’t hit me emotionally the way it seems to have other people. BlacKkKlansman would be a real dark horse win, as most seem to admire it more than love it—me too, I suppose (though it was pretty entertaining, also).  And Roma? A real contender, they say, but too slow and low on plot for me. Of the ones I’ve seen, I’d rank it last in order of preference.

(And they do vote on Best Picture by ranked ballot, did you know that? Makes predictions even trickier, as people’s second and third choices can come into play.)

Of the ones I haven’t seen, it’s not due to lack of opportunity. Vice? Why would I see a movie about Dick Cheney? Green Book—actually, I’d probably like that one, and likely will see it at some point. It does sound rather Driving Miss Daisy, though, so I can see why it’s a controversial front-runner. And The Favourite? Is directed by the same person who directed The Lobster, which is not a selling point for me. The Lobster was creative and sort of compelling, but so disturbing! Too disturbing. And The Favourite is sitting at 94% with critics but only 65% with audiences. I remain leery of it.

The New York Times talked to 20 Academy Award voters about their Best Picture choice, and found no consensus (and a fair amount of mumbling about Bohemian Rhapsody being a guilty pleasure).

All 20, however, had the same pick for

Lead Actor

And that was Rami Malek. So yes, he’s the favorite, and I would be disappointed if he didn’t win. He was so good in the role! And he gives the most gracious acceptance speeches, right up there with Alanis Morissette and Jared Leto.

playing-freddie-mercury-was-gun-to-head-moment-rami-malek-0001

I don’t really care about the other acting nominations—I do think it would be nice for Glenn Close to finally get recognized, but I haven’t seen The Wife—so moving on to the key category of

Sound Mixing

Admittedly, sound was one of the better aspects of Roma, with this surround thing happening that was something of an unprecedented experience. (But most people will see the movie on Netflix and miss all that.)

But Bohemian Rhapsody, people—that was one fine, fine-sounding film. Those were fantastic mixes of Queen songs, and they also did a great job of incorporating audience sounds (and making sure we could hear the dialogue)! I think it deserves this one.

Bohemian Rhapsody is also up for Sound Editing, but I’m not quite so sure what that is…

It’s also up for Film Editing, and I do know what that is, but also don’t feel qualified to comment on whether it merits that honor. (Though the American Cinema Editors thought it did, for what that’s worth.)

But getting back to sound…

Original Song

It’s got to be “Shallow” from A Star Is Born, right? And that’s fine with me. I don’t know any of the other songs, but I really like this one. Apart from Queen + Adam Lambert, the Lady Gaga / Bradley Cooper performance of it is the musical moment I’m most looking forward to.

And poor Mr. Cooper was snubbed for

Director

Which most people think will go to Alfonso Cuaron for Roma. But I think it should be Spike Lee, for BlacKkKlansman. Because I liked that movie more, and because it’s absurd that Spike Lee hasn’t even been nominated until now!

Looking for anything else I at all care about…

Animated Feature

I only saw one of them, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, but it was good, and is considered a leading contender. I’d be fine with that.

This weekend we might go see all the nominated

Animated Short

films, but until or if that happens, I of course have no opinion here.

Well, that leaves a lot of Categories of Indifference. It would likely be wise to turn elsewhere after the Queen performance, and let the PVR pile up some footage that I could fast-forward through as required.

In the meantime, I shall distract myself with Adam Lambert’s new song, to be released tonight at midnight. (Bite me, haters.)