I just awoke from a dream in which I was having a conversation with Stephen Colbert in his traditional home theater, by which I mean a large white room with stage. I encouraged Colbert, who is currently between jobs, to go into puppetry "to make puppets cool again." He responded: "The Muppets already did that."

That Dream Stephen is a smart guy.

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My dreams lately have been full of shootings, stabbings, and death, but I wouldn't say I was having nightmares. Any outright horror in them has been subdued, like in a classic Hollywood crime story. I generally feel tense, not afraid. Using the language of movie genres, maybe I should call them suspense-mares.

One thing they seem to have in common is that many are set or begin in Victorian houses chock-full of bedrooms with dark-stained wood wall paneling, well-worn hardwood floors, cast-iron beds, chamber pots, and ornately carved fireplaces with roaring fires. And when I say houses full of bedrooms, I mean exactly that: the only rooms in these houses are bedrooms. Even the hallways, stairwells, and closets seem to have been adapted to bedrooms.

To be clear: these houses are not scary to me. I'm not trapped; I can leave the building any time I want. And I almost always approve of the tasteful layout, furnishings, decor. I'd willingly live in any of them. (Though, as my family will attest, I have unusual taste in residential architecture. Mom has long called eclectic houses with outdated designs "Walter Houses." Finances aside, I've never been able to understand why anyone would want to live in a house that looked like anyone else's.)

According to a quick Googling of the dream symbology of bedrooms, "a bedroom in a dream symbolizes your private inner self." Okay, if you say so. But what if it's all bedrooms all the way down? Am I just an especially deep person? Or so narcissistic that I'm just a Droste effect of navel gazing to infinity?

If my brain is trying to tell me something, I wish it'd just come out and say it.

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Look, I know 2024 was really rocky but we can do better. I'm probably the last guy who should give an invocation pep talk, but I'd like to share a few words with America to get 2025 started on the right foot:

So take that look out of here; it doesn't fit you. Because it's happened doesn't mean you've been discarded. Pull up your head off the floor, come up screaming, cry out for everything you ever might have wanted.

I thought that pain and truth were things that really mattered, but you can't stay here with every single hope you had shattered. I'm not expecting to grow flowers in a desert, but I can live and breathe and see the sun in wintertime.

In a big country, dreams stay with you (like a lover's voice fires a mountainside). Stay alive.

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My Mother's sister has chided me for not posting often enough. She says she reads my blog when she wakes up in the middle of the night. She has asked for more really long posts so that her eyes will get extra tired and close themselves. Wriphe.com: Boring People to Sleep Since 2002!®

So let's see, what things have I encountered recently that can be used as soporific fodder?

• I'm already suffering from Olympics withdrawal. I love the Olympics. I watch all I can, and I'm always sad to see them go on hiatus. While I hate the corporate and political greed that always accompanies them, that's just a sideshow for the main event: athletes from all over the world competing for little blocks of electroplated precious metals. I love the bonhomie between athletes and especially their ability to take a loss — essentially the destruction of their lifelong dreams — gracefully. (Speaking as a lifelong Miami Dolphins fan, I firmly believe learning to lose is the single most important thing in any sport.) Of course, I like seeing happy winners, too. The Olympics are our biannual reminder that people are what is really important in this life. Life could be a paradise if we'd just let it.

• “Bon-hommy,” went on Eeyore gloomily. “French word meaning bonhommy,” he explained. “I’m not complaining, but There It Is.” †

• The notifications on my telephone stopped working over the weekend, so no sounds when I get texts or phone calls. Not that I get a lot of phone calls. But if you call and I don't answer, now I can say that I didn't hear it without lying. (It's a software problem, not a hardware problem. For example, I can still watch YouTube videos. My notification sound effect is the sound of a Star Trek [TOS] communicator incoming call chirp, but my ringtone is a default system sound, and neither works. I have the phone turned off for recharge and will turn it back on tomorrow in the hopes that it just needs a good nap to get things sorted out. That sometimes works for me.)

• Update: It's working again. Which means that if I don't answer your call, I'm probably ignoring you on purpose again.

• Update Update: It's not working again. Which means it's time for me to buy a new phone. (This Google Pixel 7 lasted just a year and a half. I bought it because it was cheaper than a Samsung Galaxy, and, well, you get what you pay for.)

• If you're looking to go to sleep, do not click on this YouTube link. That's the song I put in my CD player and turned up REAL LOUD while I was dressing (because I had started singing it in the shower). There's a reason that I have never used Huey Lewis and the News in my "new years" posts: their lyrics are actually good. Ok, to be perfectly honest, the song I started singing in the shower was Lindsey Buckingham's Time Bomb Town, which is the second song on the Back to the Future soundtrack album. You know the one: "There must be about a million / single ways to go down." I'm sure you recognize it as the song playing on the clock radio when Marty wakes up in bed in 1985 (the first time). Once I realized what I was singing, my brain automatically clicked over to "Please don't drive 88 / Don't wanna be late again." Which, of course, I'm sure you recognize as the song playing on the clock radio when Marty wakes up in bed in 1985 (the second time). And that's why I buy soundtrack albums: so I can wash out the earworms I pick up in the shower.

Are you asleep yet, Kelley? If not, I can start talking about my dreams. Nothing is more boring than someone else's dreams. I had one recently where I worked up the nerve to ask Natalie Portman out on a date... and she said yes! (Although I got the impression it was a pity date.) We went out for coffee.

† Milne, A. A. "Chapter VI, In Which Eeyore Has a Birthday and Gets Two Presents," in Winnie-The-Pooh, pg. 72, E.P. Dutton & Company [New York], 1926

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Today is May 4, which is internationally celebrated as Star Wars Day. I was aware of this, but not consciously aware that's what the date was when I went to bed last night (er, early this morning). I guess my subconscious mind picked up the slack.

I dreamed that I met Mark Hamill, gray hair and gray beard, out at night walking his dog, a smallish, dark-coated mutt. (His dog actually met me first, as it had escaped its leash and ran up the street to greet me beside a blue chrome Dodge Charger parked on the wet street). Mark—we're on a first name basis now— arrived and apologized, and I told him not to worry, I like dogs and I like Mark Hamill. I told him that I was a big fan of his work ever since Star Wars. I was very careful not to tell him that I thought Luke was too whiney ("I care!") and preferred Han. We shook hands and parted ways, each of us continuing our separate journeys walking in separate directions.

That's it. The whole dream. Me telling Mark Hamill that his career has brought me great joy for decades. I sure hope he (and his dog) are as nice in real life as they are in my head.

May the Fourth be with you.

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123/2289. Night on Earth (1991)
I very much enjoyed writer/director Jim Jarmusch's Mystery Train, and although this uses a similar anthology approach to short, character-driven stories, it didn't connect with me nearly as well, at least in part because of my own innate distaste for interacting with strangers in claustrophobic circumstances, which is the central conceit of each vignette featuring a cab driver and passenger at the same time in different places around the globe. Good idea, but not for me.

124/2290. 20th Century Women (2016)
Something about this bildungsroman, were a young man searches for himself with the help of several variations of feminists in late 70s California, struck me as very honest and relatable. But then, you already know I'm a sucker for coming-of-age stories.

125/2291. I'm No Angel (1933)
The plot in this is a mess, but no one watches Mae West films for their plots. Kind of like a Marx Brothers movie, the attraction here isn't the structure or characters but West's persona and her ability to insert a double entendre into every conversation, appropriate or not.

126/2292. Fast Food Nation (2006)
Ostensibly a criticism of the American fast food industry, it would seem that writer/director Richard Linklater really has an axe to grind with just about every aspect of American life, from career-driven corporate rats to angsty teenagers and everything in between. It's all too depressing to be funny and so unfocused as to be overwhelming. I'm sure there's plenty of truth in here, but fuck it all and let the world burn.

127/2293. Blue Beetle (2023)
Why is America burnt out on superhero films? Because we've seen them all before. This borrows too many parts from several well-worn Marvel movies to be anything more than mildly amusing, but at least it focuses on a Latino family for a refreshing change.

128/2294. Anvil: The Story of Anvil (2008)
A documentary about a 1980s Canadian metal band that didn't hasn't yet is determine to make it big. An unblinking look at the sacrifices it takes to make dreams come true... even when they don't. Pretty good.

More to come.

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I had a dream last night in which I was in a romantic relationship with a human woman, and it was kind of nice. Was that the point of the dream? I don't know. Do dreams have points? In any event, it made me consider whether I should look into being in a romantic relationship again.

Of course, any potential candidates would have to meet a few basic qualifications first. Obviously she'd have to like dogs, laugh at my good jokes, and at least tolerate football and video games. I'd prefer a girl better looking and smarter than I am, but I'll settle for average looks and significantly-better-than-average intelligence. Brightly-colored dyed hair is a plus.

If I found someone like that, before we went on a date, she'd have to answer the following brief questionnaire:

1. When is the right time of year to wear open-toed shoes?
2. Which of Alfred Hitchcock's movies is the best?
3. How early is too early for stores to start selling Halloween decorations in advance of Halloween?
4. Marvel or DC?
5. What's the proper response to "We don't have Coke. Is Pepsi Okay?"

If there is a woman alive who can pass those criteria, honestly, she probably deserves better than me. Live long and prosper, awesome lady!

For the record, correct answers are 1. Never; 2. My personal preference is Rope but I'll accept anything but Vertigo; 3. September 23; 4. DC; and 5. Burn the place down and salt the ashes.

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54/2220. Stray Dog (1949)
I intentionally followed my viewing of Cats with this Akira Kurosawa writen/directed police procedural, which is a much better movie. Its only real flaw is a lack of actual dogs. The true subject is the directionless state of young men in post-WWII Tokyo, hence the allegorical title.

55/2221. The Fish That Saved Pittsburgh (1979)
Unlike Strange Dogs, I bumped into this by pure happenstance. I'm glad I did. The premise of a basketball team built on astrology is inherently silly, but that's the sort of film this is, and it dives in head-first (see: Jonathan Winters as a goofball team owner and his own evil twin brother.) Like most home aquariums, it's fun but not deep.

Coca-Cola is a performance-enhancing drug

56/2222. Carle Laemmle (2019)
The descendants of Universal Studios founder Carle Laemmle who participated in this documentary would have you believe that the man was a saint. Maybe he was, but it's hard to imagine that he united his competitors and defeated the Edison Motion Picture trust without at least having a iron-rod backbone.

60/2226. Burden of Dreams (1982)
The numbering on this one is out of order because I logged it late. Oops. But also pretty fitting considering the subject. In hindsight, I now know that this documentary was the explicit basis for the very silly 2-part 2022 Documentary Now episode "Soldier of Illusion." The lengths that Werner Herzog went through to make his Amazon River movie are terrifying.

57/2223. The Apple (1980)
The Apple is, without a doubt, the single greatest movie musical ever made about Adam and Eve as rockstars in a world dominated by the recording executive devil. The makers of Cats could learn a few lessons on how to do "bonkers" right.

There's a ton of Coke in this film, very little of which is bottled.

More to come.

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81/2090. The Sandlot (1993)
I'd seen this in bits and pieces over the years, but I decided to make myself sit down and watch it all the way through before the Little League World Series this year (because the kids there always list it as their favorite movie). It's heavily influenced by Stand By Me (with a pinch of Field of Dreams), but it's no crime to borrow from great movies.

baseball and apple pie

82/2091. How to Save a Marriage and Ruin Your Life (1968)
Ah, 1960s sex comedies. They always make the repressed sexual politics of the 1950s seem reasonable by comparison. Dean Martin tries to make his friend give up his mistress, but picks on the wrong girl. Somehow, everyone has a happy ending... except the wife. *shrug*

83/2092. Orlando (1992)
Yes, this is weird, but I like weird. The narrative is really several episodes in the life of a 400-year-old gender-fluid English noble. I'm sure there's a lesson in here somewhere about discovering one's true self. It's certainly a counterpoint to that last movie.

84/2093. Johnny Guitar (1954)
This is no comedy, but it does showcase the typical 1950's viewpoint of how every strong woman amounts to nothing without a strong man backing her up. While the lead villain(ess) is a female Snidely Whiplash sans mustache who hates Joan Crawford's protagonist because they both want the same man, the mob of men that support her are motivated by a very sympathetic cause: maintaining their land and lifestyle against the coming railroad. Sometimes I forgot who I was supposed to be cheering for.

85/2094. Thomasine & Bushrod (1974)
Blaxplotation Bonnie and Clyde. I think this is marginally superior to Bonnie and Clyde, but that's mostly because I really don't like either Bonnie or Clyde. The moral here is that neither love nor insanity is more powerful than the law, by which I mean crazy white racists with guns.

86/2095. Magic Mike (2012)
Everyone talks about all the beefcake, but this is mostly a coming-of-age movie for the two dynamic male leads on opposite sides of the same journey. It's pretty good shlock entertainment, mostly on the strength of Channing Tatum's' screen charisma.

More to come.

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Movies watched in March, part 1 of 3:

23. (1882.) Romance on the High Seas (1948)
This was Doris Day's first movie, and she's as cute as a freckled button. I've never been a huge fan of her 60s sex comedies opposite Rock Hudson (what with their badly outdated sexual politics), but her natural charisma is obvious here. It's no wonder she went on to become such a star.

24. (1883.) Avengers: Endgame (2019)
I said I wasn't going to watch this after how angry I was at how much Avengers: Infinity War sucked, but it finally came on broadcast television, and I didn't have anything better to do. It's not as bad as A:IW, but that's not the same as being good. In fact, I'm sure I'd hate it if A:IW hadn't set the bar so damn low that it couldn't even be tripped over. And there was Coke.

The story of how Bruce Banner and the Hulk merged would make a better movie than what this actually gave us.

25. (1884.) Calamity Jane (1953)
Another Doris Day movie (because Doris Day was the TCM "Star of the Month"), this one featuring an entirely fictional version of Calamity Jane in what is transparently a rip-off of the far superior Annie Get Your Gun. I fell asleep halfway through.

26. (1885.) I'll See You in My Dreams (1951)
Hey, look! It's Doris Day! Here she's the wife (and ambition and conscience and just plain better half) of Danny Thomas' bland songwriter Gus Kahn. I guess it's Kahn's biography (at least the Hollywood version of it), but it would have been a better movie if Day had been given the lead part.

27. (1886.) The Foreigner (2017)
Old Man Jackie Chan proves that he's probably a better actor than he gets credit for in this political action/thriller opposite Pierce Brosnan. I liked it.

28. (1887.) The Wild, Wild Planet (1966)
In the future, Mutants come to Earth to steal humans for a mad scientist's genetic experiments. Perhaps just because of what sci-fi was in the era, this feels a little like an amateur filmmaker's attempt at an original Star Trek movie, and some of the concepts are interesting. Just about everything else is bad, maybe bad enough to come around to the other side if you were in just the right mood. I wasn't.

More to come.

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