Give a little stretch!

Nothing quite like a good night's rest. I woke up feeling fairly refreshed, but also fairly sluggish. I think that's occurring more often if I'm being completely honest. Not sure what it means exactly, but it last no more than five minutes so should I really take issue over it? I didn't think so either.

Off to work in a bit and seeing The Expendables directly thereafter. I'm unapologetically a lifelong Stallone fan. The man can do no wrong in my eyes (no, not even Rhinestone) and I'm pretty pumped for this one as well. I remember being really bummed when I heard Richard Crenna had died several years back because I thought that spelled the end concerning another Rambo film. But did that stop Sly? Hells no. And the movie ended up being fantastic all the same. In the end, Stallone is responsible for Rambo and Rocky, two of the greatest ("greatest" doesn't do them justice) film icons of anyone's time.

Harrison Ford has Indiana Jones and Han Solo (and I'd love to be able to throw Rick Deckard in there as well, but it doesn't really fit with the schema), but he's about the only other actor I can think of that has played multiple rolls that wound up being essential to American cinema. Okay, I could probably think of more if I really tried and/or really cared, but that's not the point [I want to make].

The point [I want to make] is that Sylvester Stallone is the single greatest thing to happen to me as far as movies are concerned. I mean, where would I be without First Blood and Rocky IV?! I'll tell you where: I'd have smelly dreadlocks, an unkempt Santa Claus-esque beard, and think that Dave Matthews was the greatest singer/songwriter around. I'd be jobless (by choice) and single (not by choice; remember the smelly dreadlocks?), holding signs somewhere protesting Bush, BP, Obama, McDonalds, Kohls, or whatever other thing I heard I was supposed to rebel against. Instead, I choose to rock the buzzcut, neverending five o'clock shadow, and recognize Dave Matthews for the pajama-bottoms-wearing-no-talent-having-slob-even-Carrot-Top-hates stand-up guy that he is. I blindly love my country, my wife, my son, and my God. I have pride in myself, think for myself, and know that I'm always a single montage away from being in the best shape of my life. Thanks, Sly.

*** Am I alone in thinking that it's time Americans adopt Neil Young for ourselves? There's no way he's really happy being Canadian... That's another blog altogether! ***

Arcade Fire - "Ready to Start"

Great Dream?! Really?!

"Great dream last night. Kim and I were walking down the street when all of a sudden we get ambushed and dragged into a child-molester van."

Arcade Fire - "Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)"

That first sentence was a draft from a blog I apparently started, was interrupted by something, and never came back to finish. In what way is being "dragged into a child-molester van" ever a "great" thing?! How does that sentence ever come together?! Obviously I only have these questions now because I can't remember the rest of the dream.

I imagine it ended with us relaxing on a beach somewhere - me with a cigar and drink in hand, Kim with a magazine and an Arnold Palmer - laughing about how awesome that prank was with the child-molester van. It probably didn't end with us being brutally beaten and abused, hogtied, and left for dead in the Mojave Desert as Komodo dragons circled our helpless persons. Just saying, that second part wouldn't classify as a "great dream". Not even in my sick, twisted head.