All posts by Ray Ivey

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You don’t expect to find enlightenment at Wendy’s.

I was there this afternoon, the one on Sunset Boulevard right off of La Brea, enjoying a burger after seeing Harold and Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay.

The place was crawling with high school students that looked like they were on a field trip or something . .  except I didn’t see any chaperones.

I tried not to let their high-decibel antics harsh my mellow and enjoyed my burger.  However, further irritation came from the table to my left, where a woman was listing an undending litany of complaints to her girlfriend.  Not too loud . . . just consistent, like a mosquito that you can tell is on the other side of the room.

Then the most threatening thing to my burger high of all:  A beggar sauntered into the busy dining room, and began to make his way from table to table.  Great, I thought.  Why doesn’t Wendy’s management stop this guy from bothering their customers?

He got to my table and I gave my usual Get Lost look.  He moved on to Miss Complainy McChatter. “You hungry?” she asked him.

A moment later she was at the counter, buying him lunch.  As she passed by me on the way back to her table, I spoke up.  “Ma’am?”

“Yes.”

“You put me to shame.”

She sat back down and I tried to enjoy the rest of my meal.

I am one of those people, I realized.  One of those assholes who likes to talk about the Big Picture, aspires to own a Prius, is seriously considering buying a reusable grocery bag.  But I’m too lazy and cheap to help someone right in front of me who has an immediate need.

I realized I finally understood the difference between “nice” and “kind.”

“Nice” is when it doesn’t cost you anything.

Average Rating: 4.5 out of 5 based on 260 user reviews.

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Seems our newest media celebrity, the Rev.  Jeremiah Wright, is on everybody’s mind these days.  Let me bring some clarity to the issue.

He Has Some Valid Points

He points out that we have bombed people all over the world and then act all shocked when people hate and attack us.  This is a valid point that Americans hate to face.  The only politically correct position to take on the 9/11 attacks is that they were unprovoked, completely out-of-the-blue acts directed by religious crazies.  The fact is, we DID do lots of things that provoked the attacks of 9/11.  We have long supported Israel and marginalized the people that were already living in Palestine when the United Nations “gave” the land to the Jews in 1948.  We support dictatorships all throughout the MIddle East and have military installations in areas that are holy to Islam.  Now, that’s not to say the 9/11/ attacks were right, or justified, but they didn’t happen in a vacuum.  It’s childish that we’re supposed to act like they did, or be branded unpatriotic.  Our government has been supporting dictators all over the world since the beginning of the cold war.  What do we expect to happen to our reputation when we blatantly demonstrate that while we value freedom and liberty at home, we find it expendable in other countries?

Wright also says, when asked about his ideas about HIV being a government conspiracy to eliminate black people, that after the Tuskegee Syphilis study incident, he believes the government capable of anything.  Well, considering the truth about the Tuskegee experiment — where black men with syphilis were studied for forty years, all of them being lied to, and many of them not receiving the life-saving penicillin which would have saved them, because the scientists wanted to see how the disease spread and killed — I have to be a bit sympathetic to the Rev. Wright.  As crazy as the HIV conspiracy theory sounds (and I don’t believe it, by the way), it sounds no more far-fetched than using black citizens as medical guinea pigs.

On the Other Hand, He’s a Dick

As much as I respect the Rev. Wright’s right to pontificate, he’s not doing his old friend Barak Obama any favors.  Alas, Wright has fallen prey to that most American of diseases, the Pathological Desire to Be Famous.  Now that he’s become a media darling, he just can’t seem to shut up.

He should shut up.  Or just start campaigning for Hillary Clinton.

Average Rating: 4.7 out of 5 based on 219 user reviews.

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Great. A new phobia.

Sometimes I think we get crazier as we get older. I’d like to think the opposite is true, but alas, the evidence isn’t pointing that direction.

My new phobia kicks in whenever I get pulled over by a cop.

I don’t know if it’s our current, Bill-of-Rights-Lite administration or just age, but now when the cop stops me I am convinced it’s the Rogue Cop.  The Maniac Cop.  The Cop With Bad Information.  I imagine he’s going to arrest me, hurt me, and worst of all — handcuff me with my hands behind my back.

Why is that worst of all?  I’ll tell you.  I have severe, SEVERE personal-space claustrophobia.  To be restrained like that is simply intolerable for me.  I go crazy.  I foam at the mouth.  I worry that in that state I will not be able to effectively explain to Bubba the Unhinged Cop that I have a condition called claustrophobia and would he please consider maybe even using the handcuffs with my hands in front of my body?  Even that would be better.  I doubt Bubba will listen.  And I will just sit there quietly and have a heart attack.  Like that young man a cop arrested last year who had a bag put over his head and died while trying to explain to an unlistening troglodyte cop that he had asthma.

Does this all sound ridiculous?  Well, I told you it was a phobia.  Phobias aren’t rational by nature.

On the other hand, I assume this is what black men feel every time a cop stops them.

Average Rating: 4.8 out of 5 based on 241 user reviews.

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Movie alert!  There is a documentary heading to a Theater Near You that you don’t want to miss!!

Young@Heart is a chorus based in Northampton, Massachusetts.  The average age of the chorus members is eighty.

And they sing punk.  And rock and roll.  Like you wouldn’t believe.

The documentary chronicles the group’s preparation for an upcoming concert.  You get to know the individual chorus members and watch their rehearsals.

I cannot remember the last time a movie felt more like a tonic, or a gigantic B-12 shot.  I defy anyone to come out of this movie feeling anything but euphoric.

Do not miss it when it comes to your town!

Average Rating: 5 out of 5 based on 166 user reviews.

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It’s very fashionable, indeed almost required, among my circle, to loathe Charlton Heston.  What a creep, right?  Can’t believe he was for gun rights!  What a right-wing wacko!

Even George Clooney attacked Heston in 2003, saying that he deserved whatever happened to him because of his position on the NRA.

George Clooney:  What a moron!

The fact is, Heston was a Hollywood giant who deserved our respect.  I’ve always greatly admired him, even though I disagree sharply with the politics of his later life.  In fact, I don’t even think he was the greatest actor.  But he was a great movie star, tireless political activist, and gentleman.

Heston may not have had the acting chops of Paul Muni or Spencer Tracy, but he starred in many important films, from The Greatest Show On Earth to The Agony and the Ecstacy to El Cid to Ben-Hur and Touch of Evil to his signature role as Moses in the greatest trash film of all time, The Ten Commandments.

He was also in many of the most significant science fiction films of the late 60s and early 70s, such as Soylent Green, Planet of the Apes, Beneath the Planet of the Apes and The Omega Man.

He created many iconic moments in cinema, including Moses holding his staff over the Red Sea, Captain George Taylor’s immortal rant at the foot of the half-buried Statue of Liberty to his dying warning that “Soylent Green is people!”

He also had a good sense of humor about himself, parodying his Planet of the Apes persona both on Saturday Night Live and in a beautiful cameo in the 2001 remake.

His last great part was as the Player King in Kenneth Branaugh’s monumental 1996 film of Hamlet

Why doesn’t it bother me that this mediocre actor became the President of the National Rifle Association?  Because guess what, Heston was simply being a citizen activist, which he had been his whole life.

Originally a liberal democrat, he championed civil rights and fought institutionalized racism. He campaigned for Adlai Stevenon and John Kennedy.  He picketed a segregated movie theater.

In 2001 he quit Actors Equity in protest of the union’s refusal to let Jonathan Pryce, a caucasian actor, reprise his award-winning role as a Eurasian character in Miss Saigon from London to Broadway.  And you know what?  Heston was right.  Equity’s involvement in the affair, largely driven by actors B.D. Wong and Colleen Dewhurst (who heself had played Asian roles in Broadway, for heaven’s sake), was shameful and wrong headed.

And sure, he championed gun rights.  But so what?  He believed in them.  Since when is it wrong for an American to stand up for what he believes in, especially when it’s a constitutional issue?  And while the Second Amendment is perhaps my personal least favorite amendment, the wording is concise and unambiguous.  And is it fair for liberals like me to demand we ignore this provision while we decry the efforts of others to degrade the First Amendment?  I don’t think so.  In a democracy, good men of good will can disagree.

For the record, as much as I like Michael Moore, his ambush of Heston at his home in his film Bowling For Columbine was tasteless and low-class.

I would also like to point out that if I snubbed my nose at everyone I disagreed with politically I wouldn’t have much family left.  I am from Texas and Louisiana, after all.

I’m happy that I have one personal memory of Heston.  About twelve years ago the Cinerama Dome in Hollywood was having a festival of 70mm films.  My friend David and I attended a screening of Heston’s 1961 epic El Cid.  Right before it was time for the movie to start, a hunched, fairly feeble looking older man shuffled down the aisle to the front of the screen and turned around.  It was Heston!

The startled audience began to applaud (the theater had made no announcement about an appearance by the actor).  I turned to my friend and said, “Uh. . . I say you stand up for Charleton Freaking Heston.”  My friend agreed, and we began an extended standing ovation for the cinema legend.

He accepted the applause graciously and then proceeded to introduce the movie.  He then sat down with his wife Lydia in the audience and watched part one of the film.  During intermission he spoke with everyone who wanted to meet him.  He then sat down again and watched the rest of the movie.  Afterwards he hung out with the audience again for awhile, then drove off with his wife.

I was struck by his generosity of spirit, taking the opportunity to turn a screening of an old movie into a truly memorable event.  

My favorite quote of Heston’s was his answer to the question, “What do you think is your greatest film.”  His answer, “I don’t think I’ve made it yet.”

Mr. Heston, I for one will greatly miss your titanic presence in the movies and even in politics.  You were a true original and you had a true respect for acting.

Heston is survived by his wife of sixty-four years

 

Moses parts the Red Sea:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUR-OdR3egU&feature=related

It’s people!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Sp-VFBbjpE

Greatest shock ending ever:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUR-OdR3egU&feature=related

Average Rating: 5 out of 5 based on 261 user reviews.

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Don’t you think famous people in history should have their own theme songs?

For example, I can never picture Eva Braun without imagining her piddling around the house humming her favorite Sheryl Crow song, “If It Makes You Happy, Then It Can’t Be That Bad.”

Can you think of any other good examples?

Average Rating: 4.9 out of 5 based on 272 user reviews.

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I’m always happy to help out Patt Morrison, who has an intelligent and lively show on public matters on KPCC, my home NPR radio station out of Pasadena.

Today’s topic was on happiness.  She had a university expert who’d just done a survey and a woman who’d just written a book on the subject.  In the interest of saving them time, I called in to the show.

Naturally, I was the first caller, and I generously offered my three distilled Rules For Happiness:

1.  Gratitude.  Buddha said that all unhappiness is based on comparison.  I just turn that around.  If you can’t be a glass-half-full person, there’s not much point to getting up in the morning.

2.  Having enough money.  I’m not saying you have to be Donald Trump, but nothing wrecks happiness faster than money trouble (except for maybe health trouble and family trouble).  For the record, the idea that “money doesn’t buy happiness” is a lie spread by rich people.

3.  Identifying activities you really enjoy, then structuring your life so that you can do them.  Here’s where most people mess up.  People commonly say, “I’ll be happy playing with my kids, ” so they get a house deep in the suburbs and commute to work five hours a day leaving no time to see their kids awake.  Plus, lots of people have lousy hobbies.   Find a good one.  For me, or course, it’s sniffing glue and developing talented new underwear models, but everyone has to find his or her own niche.

 

As long as you have reasonable health, are not in prison, and don’t have any specific psychological challenges, these rules should work for you.  Or your money back.

Average Rating: 5 out of 5 based on 174 user reviews.

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It’s 26 degrees.  On March 26.  I’m just sayin’.

Average Rating: 4.5 out of 5 based on 233 user reviews.

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I’d been to Minneapolis once before, but never in cold weather. It struck me that if you’d never been here in cold weather, you hadn’t really seen the place as it truly was.

So things couldn’t have looked or felt more perfect as I sailed up Hiawatha Avenue on the way from the airport on my way to the Holiday Inn Express where I was to stay for a month. Hiawatha, I thought, perfect. I even crossed Minnehaha Parkway.

I was surrounded by tall empty trees, snow and half-frozen lakes. It felt perfect.

My Mary Tyler Moore reverie was only interrupted when I realized that I couldn’t find my exit to Interstate 35W northbound. Actually I saw what was clearly the exit for it, but it was blocked off and the sign obscured. After a couple of further attempts, a lightbulb went off.

After successfully negotiating the detour, I finally found my way to the hotel.

“I’m just guessing that it was the 35W bridge that fell into the river last year, right?”

A moose-like nod indicated I was indeed correct.
“You know, ” I said, dripping the charm for which I am internationally unknown, “that would be a great thing to mention to out-of-state guests when they call to make a reservation, considering the bridge is right between the airport and your hotel.”

One more thing. As I approached the hotel, I realized it couldn’t have more perfectly blended in with the surroundings. In other words, it looks like a grain elevator.

Average Rating: 4.9 out of 5 based on 169 user reviews.

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Now, I’m no fan of bank robbers or people who attempt to bomb police cars.     But former Symbionese Liberation Army member Sara Jane Olsen pled guilty to her crimes and has been serving her sentence in Chowchilla, California as a model prisoner.

Last week she was released on parole, six years into her twelve year sentence.

However, LAPD re-arrested her five days later, dragged her back to prison, where it was explained that a “miscalculation on her release date” had occurred.

Really?  This couldn’t possibly be about pressure from the LAPD, could it?

And, even if it was a case of bad math (hard as it is to believe that an employee of the California Corrections System wouldn’t be a whiz at accounting), shouldn’t the benefit of the doubt go to the parolee who’s already been out of prison for five days?

Someone needs to get this chick a better lawyer, because this reeks to high heaven of cruel and unusual punishment.  The state shouldn’t be able to give someone her liberty for five days, make her feel her ordeal is over, then yank her back into the clink for a year.  I cry dirty pool!

Average Rating: 5 out of 5 based on 161 user reviews.

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