So that explains it. A year ago, I noticed some strange graffiti on a wall near the Star Market in Allston. My post was picked up on Universalhub.com and Boston.com, and all kinds of people came to this site to see what all the fuss was about. Well, 12 months later, I’ve found out in the Improper Bostonian of all places that the supposed film criticism was not that at all, but a reference to a Demetri Martin joke. Well, I guess that explains it. And don’t I feel silly now.
Sometimes a movie is pleasant and all, but it just feels pointless. So it is with Sunshine Cleaning. The story of Rose Lorkowski (Amy Adams), a young woman who starts her own crime-scene cleanup business with the help of her slacker sister, Norah (Emily Blunt), Cleaning was one of the finds at the Sundance Film Festival more than a year ago. The film was produced by the same folks who produced Little Miss Sunshine, and like that film, Cleaning also stars Alan Arkin as a cantankerous old man who has a good relationship with his grandchild. But a similar name and costar are really all these two movies have in common, and that’s probably why it took so long for the film to actually hit theaters. Cleaning has very little of the charm and emotion that Little Miss had, despite having Amy Adams in the lead. There’s a pretty creepy subplot involving Norah and the daughter of a deceased woman, and Rose just, well, I never really felt like I wanted to root for her. The movie’s not a total mess or anything, but it’s definitely not as quirky as it thinks it is. I expect the fate of Sunshine Cleaning will be much like the scenes Rose and Norah clean up, with nary a trace of it left in just a couple hours. I’m giving the movie a C+.
It’s not quite Stephen Colbert with a pitchfork, but here’s Keith Olbermann’s special comment about AIG, Citigroup, and all the other Wall Street scandals.
Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy
So the Allston location of Marty’s Liquors is closing this weekend. Don’t worry, I’m not going to wax nostalgic about the closing of a liquor store. I have no memorable stories about the time I bought a six-pack or a keg or anything there, or of a great wine discovery. But Marty’s does hold a sort of special place in my heart, I guess, because when I first moved to Boston 12 years ago, I thought it was cool that a store right down the street was named Marty’s. (Yeah, I’m that much of a dork.) And yes, I made a few purchases there over the years, but whatever … my alcohol tastes were never of the Allston variety. Besides, I learned pretty quickly to stay as far away from the corner of Harvard Ave. and Comm. Ave. as possible.
But anyway, even though I shed no tear over the closing of Marty’s Liquors, I will come to its defense in one way: The reason this store is closing is because it couldn’t come to terms over a rent increase by its landlord, the Hamilton Company. Sound familiar? That’s because Hamilton was my old nemesis when I lived at 110 Babcock. I have nothing but sympathy for Marty’s if they’re being pushed out because of those greedy bastards, who raised my rent $200 when they bought the building and then never did anything to improve the quality of life there. Hamilton is the reason I bought a condo when I did (though it must be said, the whole condo-buying thing worked out pretty well for me). This situation kind of makes me want to go buy a bottle of wine at Marty’s just for old times sake. At the very least, I’ll raise a glass in its honor.
George Clooney is vlogging — that’s video blogging for those not hip to interweb lingo — and despite the fact that he’s doing it to raise awareness of the situation in Chad, the quick dispatches are actually kinda funny, including this one here, where George laments how his hairdo, expensive as it is, should have survived the trip to Chad. Enjoy.
Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy
A funny thing happens when you’re happy … You have less to blog about, and less incentive to blog because you’d rather be living your life offline.
At least that’s how it has been for me lately.
And I know my “life is good” attitude runs counter to the general mood of the public (it certainly runs counter to that of many people I know), so I’ve also made a conscious attempt not to make too big a deal about it for fear I’d appear to be rubbing it in.
But I am happy these days, more so than I’ve been in a very long time.
And I just wanted to say that because, well, I don’t see why I shouldn’t.
Sometimes things just work out. I was in Miami on Tuesday for a conference at the InterContinental, and my coworker and I were scheduled to be on a 7:45 p.m. American Airlines flight back to Boston. Neither one of us really wanted to get back at 11:00 or later — especially given that our flight down a week earlier had been delayed by almost an hour and a half — so I suggested we book it to the airport and try for the 6:15 flight. I won’t bore you with a drawn-out story, but I’ll say we were told the flight was full. Then, I guess, a connecting flight didn’t make it to Miami in time, so not only did we get on the 6:15 flight, but we had an open seat in our three-person row, providing plenty of space to spread out and relax. The plane left right on time, and actually landed about 20 minutes early. (Score!) Then our luggage came out pretty quickly, and we were off for home.
Is that all? Oh no. I got home to find that the post office had left in my mailbox all the mail they were holding for me, which saved me an early morning trip on my way into work on Wednesday. I was home by 10:15, giving me plenty of time to relax and zip through the night’s episode of American Idol. Yes, sometimes things do work out.
There’s something about going down to Florida in March and seeing a spring training baseball game that makes you feel like everything’s alright with the world again. You get that feeing the instant you walk up the ramp, see the green grass on the field, see the players (preferably in Red Sox uniforms) taking batting practice, and hear the cracks of the bat. After a long, cold winter, it’s music to this baseball fan’s eyes and ears.
So it was on Saturday when I went to see the Sox take on the Orioles in Fort Lauderdale. My guess is that because it was an away game for the Sox, and they’d just played the Yankees the night before, not too many marquee players wanted to make the trip south. (Plus there was the matter of the World Baseball Classic and a couple injuries.) The biggest Sox names who showed up were Jed Lowrie, Rocco Baldelli, and Josh Bard (who, as of this writing, has now been let go by the Sox). But no matter. It was a decent game (at least it was until the Sox lost in the bottom of the ninth) and it was fun to see the team back on the field live and in person. And even better, I didn’t get a sunburn this year, like I did last year. Woo hoo!
So, happy spring everybody. Baseball is back.
(Looking up at the right-field bleachers.)
(That’s Orioles outfielder Ryan Freel signing autographs. Unfortunately, our tickets were on the home-field side of the field and not the visiting team side, so I have pictures of the Orioles and not the Sox.)
If you’ve been looking for me during the past week, I’ve been in Miami, where I was on a (mostly) work-related trip. A productive trip, and it should be noted not a vacation, but I do have to tell y’all that I stayed at one of the coolest hotels for two nights, the Mondrian. Do you want to know why I liked this hotel? Well, it wasn’t because of the chi-chi design, which featured horse imagery in the elevators and exaggerated photos of faces in the rooms. It wasn’t because of the chandelier in the shower that turned out to be where the water came from. It also wasn’t because of the hotel’s proximity to Jerry’s or Lincoln Road (where I had lunch and dinner, respectively, on Thursday).
Oh, and it wasn’t because of the high-def TV and TiVo in all the rooms. Nor was it because the bed was totally comfortable, and the soft, dense pillows were awesome. Believe it ot not, it also was not because of the pool — so very warm — or the view I enjoyed while working there. Oh, and I promise, it really was not because of the very attractive young woman who checked me in.
Yes, those were all things I enjoyed about the Mondrian, but the real reason I loved this hotel is because of what happened when I asked for a wakeup call Thursday night. I called the front desk, and when someone picked up, she said, “Hello, Mr. Lieberman.” That impressed me. Then, after I asked to be woken up at 6:45 in the morning, the woman asked, “Would you like us to call you again at 7:00?” Clearly, the folks didn’t just know my name, they actually knew me, and knew I’d need the extra “snooze” time. For the record, this is not such an unusual thing; when I moved to the the InterContinental a couple days later, they did the same thing, calling me by name and offering a follow-up call. But at the Mondrian, they didn’t stop there: Friday morning, I got the 6:45 call, but when the phone rang again at 7, I didn’t answer it in time (even though I was awake). Five minutes later there was a knock at my door. “Just want to make sure you’re awake, Mr. Lieberman.” Nice touch.
And it’s worth adding that when I went out to the Mondrian’s pool on Thursday morning (to work) and I made myself comfortable in one of the lounge chairs, an attendant came running up within seconds and was apologetic that he had not been able to give me a seat cover and towel before I sat down.
The point is … and I may not be making it in the best way here because these are pretty small examples, but … the Mondrian has great customer service that, combined with the luxurious accommodations, locale, and, well, let’s call it interesting design made it an impressive place to spend a couple days.
Back in December, Barack Obama was playing it cool. Now he’s getting angry. And you may not like him when he’s angry. (Actually, you probably will.)
Martin's Musings 