Watching UGA baseball's run through the Regionals and Super Regionals on their way to the College World Series for the first time since 2008, I noticed the PA and crowd seemed to really love one particular song. I commented as such to Mom. She said "What song?"

This song, Mom:

The Stroke

Mom listened to it politely for about 20 seconds before declaring it was "awful" and leaving the room. (Mom was never a big fan of 96 Rock. She's more of a Jackson Browne/Carole King kind of girl.)

Technically, this isn't a one-word wonder, as Billy Squier gave his masterpiece a two word title, but I'm just going to do what all good librarians do and ignore the The to stick it in my "one word wonders" keyword. (They're my rules; I get to break them whenever I want!)

Go Dawgs!

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48/2618. Miss Pacific Fleet (1935)
There's not a lot of substance to this frivolous film comedy, but its leads are Joan Blondell and Glenda Farrell, and that's good enough for me.

49/2619. Whiplash (2014)
There are only two characters of note in Damien Chazelle's star-making study of an abusive relationship. I've thought a lot about it, and I'm still not sure if I enjoyed it. Music's good, though.

50/2620. Honeymoon Hotel (1964)
Following a wedding-day disaster, womanizer Robert Goulet tricks his friend (the jilted groom) into following through on his honeymoon plans to visit a Hawaiian resort strictly for couples so the two men can meet more women. Screwball hijinks ensue. Goulet is good as the cad, but I really watched the whole thing for Jill St. John, who, as usual, is given too little to do.

51/2621. 711 Ocean Drive (1950)
This noir tells the story of the rise of an ambitious telephone technician through a life of crime. The house at 711 Ocean Avenue is one of many locations, from underworld bars to warehouses to penthouses to swimming pools and horse tracks, all of which pale in comparison to the backdrop for the climactic gunfight in the guts of "Boulder Dam." That would have been a better title.

Now that is a well-framed Coke bottle.

53/2623. Lord Love a Duck (1966)
It's a very rare thing in life when I encounter something more cynical than I am. This dark, dark comedy chock full of WTF moments passes that bar easily. It's clearly a takedown of the shallowness of commercially-driven pop culture and the pervasive attitudes of the Swingin' Sixties era, but there's a unique condescending anger at its heart that borders on hatred. I liked it quite a bit. For a taste of its poisoned madness, check out the sweater scene on YouTube.

More to come.

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35/2605. Odd Man Out (1947)
I read that Roman Polanski, Sam Peckinpah, and Gore Vidal considered this to be among their favorite noir movies, but I agree with some of its contemporary critics that after a fantastically engaging start, it loses its way as it staggers (and then crawls) to its unsatisfying (but necessary?) conclusion.

36/2606. Critic's Choice (1963)
Sixties sex comedies are not my bag, baby, and it doesn't help that Bob Hope and Lucille Ball don't really have any sexual chemistry. But it's a mild enough example of the genre to be an inoffensive way to pass an afternoon.

37/2607. Toy Story 4 (2019)
Purposelessness. Abandonment. Loneliness. Death. Toy Story movies go hard and are always worth the effort to watch (though my fingers).

38/2608. Two Weeks with Love (1950)
The A plot of this MGM musical with Jane Powell and Ricardo Montalban is fine, but "little sister" Debbie Reynolds steals every scene she is in, especially singing "Aba Daba Honeymoon."

39/2609. One Battle After Another (2025)
Now that I've seen this, Paul Thomas Anderson's recent Oscar feels more like a career retrospective award. I do not think this is his best work, certainly no better than Licorice Pizza or Inherent Vice. Full disclosure requires I admit that I am no particular fan of Magnolia or Boogie Nights, either, but I agree Anderson is a rare talent and I do not begrudge the industry eventually recognizing it.

For an underground militant revolutionary radio DJ, that's a pretty prominent Coca-Cola can.

More to come.

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30/2600. Angels in the Outfield (1951)
What's best about this cliched sports romcom isn't the heavy-handed treatment of religious freedom in America, but the fantasy concept that a young girl is so innocent that she can see angels and everyone else being so jaded that they cannot believe her. Won't someone please think of the children.

31/2601. The Super Mario Bros. Movie (2023)
What this movie lacks in narrative plot, it makes up for in nostalgic references. Of course it was a blockbuster.

32/2602. Project Hail Mary (2026)
Having read the book, Dad really wanted to see this on the big screen, so I took him to the only theater in town even though I really don't like it. Dad loved the movie, but I was lukewarm. I got hung up on the choices made by the directors: too many of the "science" decisions were really just blatant plot manipulation, and Gosling's character is too poorly developed, depriving the character of a more satisfying arc as he discovers humanity through his relationship with a magical alien. (I know Gosling is a good enough actor to play anti-social without being unlikeable. He can do anything.) Most people are (probably rightly) less critical of those sorts of nits, and I don't begrudge them their enjoyment of this.

33/2603. From Headquarters (1933)
A lightweight murder mystery staring George Brent. I really can't say as I remember any more about it than that, so there you go.

34/2604. Chicago (2002)
I had avoided this for years because I had a preconceived notion that none of the characters were likable. And they're not. But the musical numbers are pretty good, and the whole thing doesn't run on too long. Is it really Best Picture worthy? Well, looking back at movies released in 2002, I can only say there were pretty slim pickings that year.

More to come.

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The other day before running errands, I apparently waited a little too long after the garage door opened before putting the car in gear, causing Mom to ask, "What are you thinking?" My honest answer: "I'm trying to remember the full chorus of 'Breakout' by Swing Out Sister." Mom had no follow-up questions.

Breakout

Don't stop to ask. And now you've found a break to make at last. You've got to find a way. Say what you want to say. Breakout.

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Great news! I may have finally killed my "The Way" brain worm (details here) with the following song which I have listened to over and over and over again for the past three days, not because I have to but because I want to. (Is it still a compulsion if you enjoy it?)

Whiskey Peak Saloon featuring Leo P by Sonya Belousova and Giona Ostinelli

Lucky for you, if you don't want to listen on YouTube, Netflix has you covered with links to plenty of other platforms here: netflixmusic.ffm.to/whiskypeaksaloon.

TURN UP YOUR SPEAKERS AND BOOGIE.

(And before you ask, yes, I have watched both seasons of the Netflix live-action One Piece series. I enjoyed them a quite a lot.)

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One week ago today, while stuck in typical Saturday afternoon traffic on the Connector in Atlanta, I listened to the 1998 pop song "The Way" by Fastball. That has proven to be a terrible, terrible mistake. No matter what I've tried, I have not been able to get that song out of my head.

On Sunday, I enjoyed it; it's got a good beat, and you can dance to it. By Monday, it was annoying. Tuesday, I was starting to think I had a real problem. Wednesday, I watched the music video about a half dozen times in a row in an attempt to burn it out, and for the rest of the evening, I thought I had it licked. But the very first thing I did on Thursday as I pulled myself out of bed was start reciting the lyrics again. In the car Friday, every time I let my attention wander, I caught myself humming it.

Is this madness? Could the sequence of notes in the song have triggered something in my brain, like a sonic virus? Can you sing someone into insanity? They say music is like mathematics, right? Do I suddenly have A Beautiful Mind? What kind of doctor do you see for ear worms? Damn you, Fastball!

Because I refuse to suffer alone, I'm embedding it here:

youtu.be/X5jlTlUTWfQ

You will listen. Whether you know it yet or not, there is only The Way.

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Cue: Upbeat pop music.

Waterloo

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Flower

I first heard of Phair in 1993 in the Mazda Miata with Mom during the afternoon rush hour commute between Emory University and Newnan when Phair's debut Exile in Guyville album was reviewed on NPR.

Thanks to the Internet, I can tell you that day must have been Tuesday, July 20,¹ when Ken Tucker reviewed Exile in Guyville, released in June 1993, for Terry Gross's Fresh Air. That was the summer before my freshman year at Emory, so what was I doing in the car? Was I working part-time in the Pediatric Infectious Diseases office with Mom before my work-study position started in August, or was I just killing time driving the convertible around downtown Atlanta while Mom was working? Could have been either.)

The Internet also makes it possible for me to transcribe Tucker's praise for this song in particular:

There's a thin quality to Exile in Guyville. It ends up making you think that Liz Phair is something of a dabbler, that If this rock thing doesn't work out, she'll take up painting or maybe just use her trust fund to live in Paris for a while. But there's a core of about four or five songs here that are really first rate, and one in particular, called "Flower," that I can't play on the radio but which is as fine and bold a song as I've heard about sexual obsession.

Obviously, I had to have any album with that kind of recommendation. I probably bought the cassette at the Tower Records behind Lennox Mall, and I recall playing it quite a bit during the long commutes between Atlanta and Newnan. Listening to Phair always made me feel rebellious and cool, as good rock music should. "I'll take you home and make you like it," indeed.

Thanks, Internet!

¹ The Internet tells me July 20, 1993², was the same day that the press box caught on fire at Atlanta Fulton County Stadium, which 90s Atlanta Braves fans will recall as the day that Fred "Crime Dog" McGriff made his debut for the team, in his third at-bat hitting a home run to drive in Ron Gant to tie the game at 5-5 in the 6th inning. The fire didn't start until 6, so I think we found out about the fire after we got home. The fire delayed the game start until after 9; I might have watched it, but I don't have any memory of that.

² You know what else happened on July 20, 1993? Some guy named Vince Foster committed suicide. And no one ever uttered his name again.

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127/2559. Honey Don't! (2025)
Reminiscent of the earliest Coen brothers noirs like Blood Simple with the subversive comedy of Fargo, this movie has no particular message but a wryly amusing story of messed up people trying to make their way through a terribly fucked up world. I liked it.

128/2560. The Last Station (2009)
What a cast! The film aims to present the final days of Leo Tolstoy, which is probably best described as a story of messed up people trying to make their way through a terribly fucked up world.

129/2561. The Dark Angel (1935)
A British melodrama (based on a play) probably best described as a story of messed up people in love. At least in this case, it was the horrors of The Great War that messed them up. I thought the two male leads looked and behaved too similarly and got really confused in the third act if only because I'd already seen Love Affair and Sleepless in Seattle so it was too easy to anticipate the finale.

130/2562. Hey There, It's Yogi Bear (1964)
This was the first feature length Hanna-Barbera animated movie, and it was distributed to theaters by Columbia Pictures. I didn't know there were any, and I was surprised to find it's actually quite entertaining, especially the jaunty musical numbers, especially "St. Louis."

131/2563. The Man Called Flintstone (1966)
The Flinstones meets Get Smart in a movie that is slightly worse than either of those shows, mainly a fault of the need to maintain a single silly and dull plot for over an hour. Audiences must have agreed, because this was the last (of two) feature length Hanna-Barbera animated movie released by Columbia Pictures.

More to come.

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