Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter eight of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Christmas Eve started out so well and then the unthinkable happened. My novelist was coming down a flight of stairs, missed the last step and sprained her left ankle right at the stroke of midnight. She cried out in pain and required assistance to get to her feet. Her ankle is now swollen and bruised, and she is unable to get around much at all until it heals. I have been waiting on her hand and foot, staying by her side, protecting her. She has been putting ice on the injury and has taken some Tylenol (she hates medicine) and has started putting Voltaren Gel on the wounded area. Not a great way to spend Christmas but then again it could have been worse.

Him has been put in charge again. He insists on bossing everyone around. He even barks at my novelist when she tries to stand up. A genuine brute if you ask me. When he sits down, I take it upon myself to jump on his chest, stare him down, and lick his face incessantly, an act he abhors.

Hi. I’m Him and I’m trying to keep this whack-job household in order. First your novelist gets sick, Gigi, and then she sprains her ankle by missing the last step of the stairs. And now I’m stuck taking care of you and the little snowball while she rests up…again.

Well, I never! Just because you’re in charge, temporarily I might add, doesn’t give you the right to boss me around. You can boss the Maltese around as much as you like but I am more than capable of taking care of myself and my novelist thank you very much.

Yeah? Let’s see you open a can of dog food.

I am perfectly capable of…how do you open a can of dog food?

I’ll give you a hint. Your brand has a pull tab.

What is a pull tab…never mind. I’ll look it up on my novelist’s phone.

Yeah, you do that.

Apparently, all ll I will need is a flathead screwdriver.

This ought to be good…

I will slip it under the pull tab and lift it up and pull it back. And while I am attempting to accomplish that task here is chapter eight of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Bonne Année! And Happy New Year!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Eight

Curtis came home to find his neighbor Earl who lived in the other apartment of the duplex sitting on his front porch.

“Hello,” Curtis said confused.

Earl looked at Curtis, opened his mouth then shut it again. Finally, he said, “I have some bad news, Curtis.”

“What kind of bad news?”

“I was pulling into my driveway this afternoon when I saw something lying on your porch.”

“What was lying on my porch?”

“Haven.”

“Haven?”

“She was lying there, and I walked over, and she looked odd, and she had this shallow panting she was doing. And she wouldn’t look up at me. She just kept lying there. So, I ran into the house and got a blanket, and I wrapped her in it, and I drove her to the emergency animal hospital…”

Curtis turned and ran to his car.

“I didn’t know your phone number,” Earl called after him, “so, I waited until you got here.”

Curtis started the engine and hit the gas. He went screeching down the street, panic surging through his arteries. The kind of panic that sucks you into a vortex and cuts you off from the world. All that mattered was Haven.

Curtis found himself stopped at the four-way intersection. He looked down and saw his hands shaking on the steering wheel. He looked up again. If this had been a different time of the day, there would have been fewer cars. But it was rush-hour and even in a small town like his there was still traffic.  

Finally, it was his turn. He charged through, passed the first turn, turned right on the second and barreled up the grade to the end of the business building at the back of the property where he pulled into the first parking spot and killed the engine. He burst out of the car and locked it with his key fob and ran through the sliding doors.

“May I help you?” the young receptionist at the desk asked.

“My dog…a little Yorkie…female…my neighbor…uh…Ray brought her in today. He found her…he found her unresponsive outside my house.”

The receptionist began to calmly look through the information on her computer. “Your name, sir?”

“Curtis Cook.”

“Hmm…oh, yes. Curtis Cook. Haven. Ray…” she muttered Ray’s last name. “Yes. Let’s have you go into room number three.” The receptionist got up and walked around the desk and slowly led Curtis to room number three. They stepped inside. “The veterinarian will be with you in a few minutes.”

Curtis watched the receptionist close the door leaving him sitting on the wooden bench with his back against the wall. As he stared at the examining table a yard or so in front of him, his stomach tied into knots. A cloak of dread encircled his shoulders and the weight of it made him hang his head. As he gazed at the floor, he saw a thin crack in the polished cement. He wondered how it got there. He breathed as deeply as he could, his ears perked to the sound of voices outside the door moving about in the restricted medical area where his little dog was, and he could not go.

After about fifteen minutes passed the receptionist knocked on the outside door. “I just wanted to let you know we have coffee, tea, hot chocolate, hot cider and some snacks out here,” she said.

“Thanks,” Curtis replied just wanting to see the doctor.

She left and several more minutes passed. Finally, the handle on the doctor’s side door turned and another young woman entered. “Hello, I’m Kit, Dr. Thoroughgood’s nurse,” she said marching up to the screen by the examining table. “He’s the one who’s been caring for Haven. He’ll be in in just a moment.”

“How’s Haven?” Curtis asked. “When can I see her?”

“Dr. Thoroughgood will be in shortly to discuss that with you.”

“Can you tell me what happened to her?”

“Dr. Thoroughgood can tell you all about that as soon as he gets here. Right now, I need to ask you a few questions. Do you have pet insurance?”

“I…no.”

“Hmm. Well, I will tell you today’s visit is going to start around six hundred dollars.”

“Six hundred dollars?”

“Yes. But we have a couple of pet insurance companies we can recommend.”

“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”

“Well…yes.”

Curtis stared at her blankly.

“But going forwards we recommend pet insurance to all our patients. However, since Haven is not covered, we need to know how you would like to pay for our services today.”

“Credit card I guess.”

“Well…oh, I think the doctor is coming in.”

Curtis heard the door open, and a tall strong looking man entered. He put some sanitizer on his hands from the dispenser near the door.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Thoroughgood,” the doctor said rubbing his hands together before reaching out his hand to shake Curtis’s.

Curtis reached out his hand and shook the doctor’s. Curtis noticed the doctor had a firm handshake.

“Well, Curtis. I have some bad news, I’m afraid. Haven didn’t make it.”

“What?” Curtis said stunned.

“She suffered internal bleeding from injuries she sustained from a car hitting her.”

“A car? That’s impossible. Haven is a very well-behaved dog. She never runs out into the street. And I always secure the house when I go to work.”

“I’m sorry, Curtis. But she must have found a way out and wandered into the road at the wrong time.”

Everything around Curtis turned inwards as if the world was suddenly reduced to a single breath of air. The doctor continued talking but his words were muted and useless to Curtis. Music had suddenly made an exodus from the universe.

“Again, I’m sorry mister…?”

“Cook,” Curtis heard himself say.

“By the time your neighbor drove her here there was really nothing much we could do.”

Curtis listened to the doctor’s heavy footsteps fade away as Thoroughgood walked back to the door and left.

“You can pay at the desk.”

“What?”

“You can pay at the desk, Mr. Cook,”

“Is that it?”

“We’ll give you a call tomorrow to decide how you’d like to proceed from here.”

MY BOOKS

You can check out my books Chicane and all five installments of the Musicology book series Musicology: Volume One, Baby!, Musicology: Volume Two, Kid!, Musicology: Volume Three, Twist!, Musicology: Volume Four, Sweetie! and Musicology: The Epiquad on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback editions. You can also check out Musicology’s web site at www.musicologyrocks.com and vote for who you think will win Musicology!

 STREAM OF THE WEEK: THE SHOOTING (1966)-HBO MAX

In addition to streaming on HBO Max, The Shooting is also streaming on Crackle, Freeve, Peacock, Plex, Roko and Tubi.

The Golden Globe nominations came out two weeks ago on Monday, December 11^th and reminded me of how far American film has fallen. Three of the six Best Dramatic Film nominations are foreign films and all three are also nominated for Best Motion Picture – Non-English Language. American films of late have little to no imagination or originality. And so, this week my pick is something completely different. If only American film making could get back to this level.

Listed at number twenty-one on Rotten Tomatoes 100 best westerns of all time and easily one of the most intriguing films I’ve ever had the pleasure to see is this fantastic enigma called The Shooting. This film is a puzzle, a riddle even, and one where you must pay attention to every single detail because if you don’t you won’t understand the fabulous home run of an ending this masterpiece delivers (albeit I may have liked it better without the slow-motion effect). Take notice of the character’s names, especially their meanings, and the use of color throughout. The film is directed by Monte Hellman and written by Carole Eastman. Hellman did not have Eastman rewrite any of the script. However, he started filming on page ten to take out expository material about Gashade’s ride back to the camp, which only worked to make the script even stronger.

Willet Gashade (Warren Oats), a former bounty hunter turned miner, returns tired and worn out to his peaceful mining camp after a long absence to find one of his partners Leland Drum (B.J. Merholz) dead and buried with a makeshift tombstone and his other partner child-like Coley (Will Hutchins) aiming to shoot anyone who comes by. Willet’s brother Coigne appears to be missing.

After Willet manages to get Coley to calm down, Willet tells Coley he believes someone had been tracking him as he made his way back to the camp. Coley tells Willet that a couple of days ago Leland and Coigne had gone into town, had too much to drink and Coigne had accidentally trampled a man and a child. Willet asks if they are dead, and Coley says he believes they likely are. Two days ago, Coigne took off, and shortly after someone came to the camp and shot and killed Leland, likely in retaliation. But Coley hid and was unable to make out the identity of the shooter.

The next day a young woman (Millie Perkins) shoots her horse dead on the hills directly above the camp. The gunshot alerts Willet and Coley and then they see her standing above them. She comes into their camp, asks to purchase a horse, and offers Gashade money to help take her to Kingsley but refuses to tell them her name. Gashade reluctantly agrees and their strange adventure begins.

Rounding out the cast is a young Jack Nicholson who plays a sadistic gunslinger named Billy Spear. Nicholson also co-produced the film along with Hellman and executive producer Roger Corman. John Herman Shaner was associate producer.

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter four of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Today, I have been drugged. It is a most unpleasant experience. Because I apparently have a neurotic distemper which caused me to end up in the emergency hospital. I must take medication to avoid another grooming accident. Therefore, a few hours before I am due at the groomer’s, my novelist has given me what we shall refer to as “magic peanut butter”. The first concoction the vet came up with did not affect me much at all and my novelist was concerned I would end up wiggling around as it were and wind up getting cut again. When it comes to medication, I am a heavyweight you see. And so, she went back to the veterinarian, and he gave her a new concoction which has had a slightly stronger effect. To test it my novelist had me take the medication and after two hours went by, I went for a ride in the car, an activity which I loathe. After the ride my novelist decided that this second concoction was strong enough to allow me to have partial grooming rectified and thus, I am being returned to the groomer to restore me to my beautiful self. And so, I am presently lying on the bed and relaxing as my novelist waits for the medication to take effect and then I shall…be…whisked off to that place I dread…I dread almost as much as…as the vet. Until…then…I…shall…I shall…introduce chapter…chapter…four of my…story…Certified Sadistic Accountant…ZZZ…woof…ZZZ…

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Four

Curtis had one luxury in life: a Yorkshire Terrier who had been the litter’s runt. He’d purchased the pup for half the asking price of its other brothers and sisters and named it Haven. Curtis originally wanted a larger dog, a medium sized dog even. But the five-pound Haven and he hit it off so well it was love at first sight. Curtis couldn’t imagine any other dog in his life. She was his most precious possession.

When Curtis wasn’t at work, he and Haven went everywhere together. In the warm months he would drive her to Mountain Crest Park and walk her around the pond. They would stop at a picnic table and have lunch and he would teach her tricks. In the cold months he bought her a soft wool sweater and took her to the Christmas tree lighting downtown. He even snuck her into the local theatre a couple of times by hiding her in his jacket. When the lights went down, she would crawl out and curl up on his lap quietly as he treated her with the occasional kernel of popcorn. Haven always started out sleeping at the foot of Curtis’s bed. But in the middle of the night, she would curl up beside him. Occasionally she would hear coyotes howling and she’d cuddle closer.

Curtis was certain Bexley would love Haven almost as much as he did, even though she owned three Siamese cats she’d trained as attack animals. Bexley came into work one morning talking about how the trio of felines had mistaken the pizza delivery guy for an assailant and chased him up a tree. The pizza parlor did not sue Bexley, but she did agree never to have an order delivered from them again.

When Curtis came home from work on Monday, April Fool’s Day, Haven trotted up to him, put her paw on his leg and wagged her tail gleefully. “Don’t worry,” Curtis told his furry companion. “As soon as Bexley gets back from spring break, I’ll ask her out on a date, and you’ll get to meet her cats and the three of you will become the best of friends.”

He gave Haven a pat and then went into his kitchen to make dinner. A year ago, Curtis would have a TV dinner to put in the microwave or the oven. But now he’d learned to be a relatively proficient cook and chose to make clam pasta that evening. He reached into his grocery back and took out a package of whole grain angel hair pasta, a bag of white mushrooms, a shallot, a pack of clams from the seafood department, a pound of Roma Tomatoes, a bunch of parsley, and a jar of capers.

Curtis chopped up the shallots, mushrooms, garlic, tomatoes, and parsley. He put some olive oil in a pan and sautéed the shallots, mushrooms, and garlic. Then he added in the clams and put some water on to boil. He shook some salt and pepper over the sauce and stirred it. When the water began to boil, he put in a fistful of the angel hair pasta. Then he finished the sauce with the parsley and capers.

Haven trotted into the kitchen to investigate the delightful aroma. She sniffed at the air and let out a happy bark as Curtis removed a baguette from his grocery bag, snatched a bread knife out of his wooden block and sliced three pieces of the loaf.  Haven cocked her head to one side as he buttered it.

After dinner Curtis sat on his leather love set, he’d purchased at a local furniture store when he’d moved into the duplex. Haven jumped up on the couch to join him and they were about to watch an action movie when Curtis’s phone rang. It was his dad. This surprised him as his parents hadn’t called for weeks. He was reluctant to answer it as he had really wanted to see this movie, but he picked up the phone and said, “Hello?”

“Hello, Curt, this is dad.”

“Hi, dad.”

“I just wanted to call to ask if you could do us a favor.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“You know your Aunt Odette? The one who owns a cabin out on Big Lake?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, your aunt has three paintings up there: one in the living room and one in each bedroom.”

“Those old oil paintings?”

“Yes, those. She was wondering if you could go up there this weekend and pick them up for her. You would need to wrap them up. She said she had some packaging supplies in the attic that would work.”

Curtis rolled his eyes. “What does she need the paintings for?”

“Apparently, she had the paintings appraised recently and they’re somewhat valuable. She wants to sell them at this auction. I’ll drive up to your place next week, pick them up and take them to her.”

“Dad, it’s tax season. I can’t just go galivanting off to Big Lake.”

“Yes, I know it’s tax season, but we really need your help on this. Your aunt wants them soon and she can’t get up there right now.”

“Why not?”

“She’s doing some sort of conference in Nova Scotia, and she just can’t make it.”

Curtis did a Picard palm face. “Alright, dad. I’ll go up to Aunt Odette’s cabin on Big Lake and pack up these…oil paintings and bring them back to my humble abode. But you’ll have to pick them up after I get home from work because I’m busy.”

“Alright, son. I’ll drop by in a week from Wednesday. I’ll get there in the evening, say seven. Does that work for you?”  

“Yeah, seven works. I’ll call you if I’m running late.”

“Sounds fantastic. I really appreciate this, son. “Your aunt will be so happy.”

“Okay, dad. I’ll see you a week from Wednesday. Tell mom hi for me.”

“I will. See you then, Curt.”

“Bye, dad.”

Curtis’s dad hung up and Haven laid her chin on Curtis’s elbow. “I have no idea how I’m going to get the time to do this, Haven,” Curtis said. “I mean this is tax season crazy time. Couldn’t they wait a couple weeks? Why do they have to do this right now. I mean Aunt Odette has had years to sell those things. But she asks my dad to fetch them now?”

Haven looked up at Curtis with sympathetic eyes. Curtis sighed, gave her a gentle pat on the head, picked up the remote and shut off the television.

“I’ll go work now,” he grumbled. “And I’ve been looking forwards to this movie.”

He picked up his little Yorkie and set her aside. Then he got up, slogged into his bedroom, and sat down at his desk. Haven hopped off the couch and trotted into Curtis’s bedroom to comfort her beloved owner.  

MY BOOKS

You can check out my books Chicane and all five installments of the Musicology book series Musicology: Volume One, Baby!, Musicology: Volume Two, Kid!, Musicology: Volume Three, Twist!, Musicology: Volume Four, Sweetie! and Musicology: The Epiquad on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback editions. You can also check out Musicology’s web site at www.musicologyrocks.com and vote for who you think will win Musicology!

STREAM OF THE WEEK: THE BIG LEBOWSKI (1998)-NETFLIX

This week’s movie is a great blast from the past all fans of the Cohen brothers should see and pretty much everyone else as well. I had forgotten how hilarious the film is and how great it still looks to this day, including the famous cardigan sweater designed by Pendelton. The story starts out with our narrator The Stranger (Sam Elliot) who tells us about a legend called The Dude (Jeff Bridges in an iconic role) who is an out of work laid back California guy who hangs out with his friends and fellow bowlers Theodore Donald ‘Donny’ Kerabatsos (Steve Buscemi) and Walter Sobchak (John Goodman in a fantastic performance). One day he is rudely awakened by a couple of thieves who break into his humble abode and mistake him for The Big Lebowski and foul his precious rug. Upset by the occurrence, The Dude (whose last name is also Lebowski) heads for the house of the wealthy The Big Lebowski (David Huddleston) and demands he pay to have his precious rug cleaned as The Big Lebowski was the one the criminals were after in the first place. The Dude is welcomed at the door by The Big Lebowski’s assistant Brandt (Philip Seymor Hoffman) and when The Dude meets Lebowski, Lebowski refuses to pay a dime. However, Lebowski does, after a few days, have Brandt contact The Dude concerning his trophy wife Bunny (Tarra Reed). Apparently, she was kidnaped by a trio of nihilists (Peter Stormare, Flea, and Torston Vogus) and they are demanding a ransom. The Big Lebowski wants The Dude to be his bag man.

In the meantime, Donny, Walter, and The Dude find themselves facing stiff competition in their bowling tournament against a team whose star player is Jesus Quintana (John Turturo in a scene stealing performance. In fact, the first scene between Quintana and the three guys is one of my all-time favorites). And The Dude finds himself contacted by Lebowski’s feminist adult daughter and artist Maude Lebowski (Julianne Moore) who has her own take on the kidnapping.

Happy Thanksgiving! It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter three of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. I must tell you Thanksgiving has been most distressing. My novelist gave me one task: find Butterflake rolls for our Thanksgiving feast. I could not find them anywhere. Everywhere I searched there were plenty of other rolls: King’s Hawaiian rolls, dinner rolls, hard rolls, variety bag rolls. I could find every roll except Butterflake rolls. I was at my wits end. I employed the Maltese…

Gigi employed me. I am Tucker and I am a Maltese.

Yes, yes, yes. They know you are a Maltese. Anyway, I hired an Uber to drive us to all the different grocery stores to look for Butterflake rolls as poodles are not allowed to have driver’s licenses. This still irritates me. That said, I trotted into each store’s bakery department and bread aisle and searched everywhere. Shoppers kept coming up and wanting to pet me. It was more than a little rude. I merely dodged them and let them pet Tucker instead.

They pet me and it was good.

No one cares. Anyway, I checked all the bakeries and bread aisles in vain. Just as I was about to give up and use this blog as a soapbox on which to rant about the absence of Butterflake rolls from Thanksgiving, I finally located them in the bakery of the last grocery store I checked. They must have just put them out. They are different than the Butterflake rolls I am used to which have vertical sections. These are shaped more like a cinnamon roll or a whirligig with a spiral structure. They looked tasty enough so I brough them home. They are being put in the oven even as I write.

To all the grocery stores out there, I beseech you. Please do not deny me Butterflake rolls ever again during the holidays. They are the finishing touch to any holiday feast.

Yum, yum.

Hush up. Here is chapter three of Certified Sadistic Accountant. I wish you a joyful Thanksgiving dinner…hopefully with Butterflake rolls.

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Three

Bexley turned and tromped over to the receptionist’s desk in her combat boots, her stack of bracelets jangling as she went. She grabbed the key and as she headed over to open the front doors, someone came tapping on the glass. Bexley peered outside and saw a familiar face. Fia Dupree, the 4.0 college student and daughter of Mr. Dallas Dupree stood there as the driver of a cab was unloading her blush colored Tumi luggage out of the trunk.

“Daddy!” she squealed as she rushed through the doors, saw Dallas, and ran towards him with open arms. Fia wore a rose-colored long-sleeved Steve Madden fit & flair mini dress, an olive-colored corduroy baseball cap, and hot pink Converse high-tops. Rhinestone Ettika earrings sparkled from her earlobes. Under her cap her blonde hair was set in large curls and long lush mink fur fake eyelashes adorned her lids.

“I thought your mother was picking you up from the train,” Dallas said somewhat confused.

“I wanted to surprise you, daddy. Besides, I think it’s fun to see where you’ve worked all my life. I remember coming here when I was a little girl and watching you do taxes.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“I remember coming here on Halloween and dressing up as a pixy or a witch and giving out candy from my Halloween bag to all the accountants.”

“I don’t remember that at all,” Lance said. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.”

Makenna gave Lance a nasty look.

“You were in grade school, Lexington,” Mr. Dupree growled. 

From his desk, Curtis studied Fia. She looked different from the last time he’d seen her. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. “Congratulations on your 4.0,” he said to her.

Fia turned and looked at Curtis. He was that creepy looking nerdy guy her dad had hired a few years ago. “Thanks,” she said.

“We’d love to have you here, buttercup,” Mr. Dupree told her. “But its tax season you see.”

“I know,” Fia said a little disheartened. “I just thought it would be super fun to surprise you.”

“I’m sure the taxi driver is waiting for you. Tell him you’ve decided to go to the train station and tip him well.”

“Well…I guess I’ll go meet mom,” she said. “I’ll text her and let her know where I am.”

“Awe, let her stay,” Lance said. “We didn’t hire anyone this year as a temp accountant and the desk in the back is vacant.”

Dallas turned and glared at Lance. He did not want his daughter hanging around the office. “It would be best for Fia to head home. Best for everyone. She’s had a long quarter.”

“I get the hint, dad,” Fia said irritated. “I’m heading back out to the taxi. She turned, her blonde curls bobbing on her shoulders. 

“You know, Dallas,” Bexley said.

“Mr. Dupree,” Dallas said.

“You could hire your daughter to take my place while I’m gone.”

“Take your place?” Fia asked, turning back around.

“I’m going on spring break and your dad says he’s going to have a hard time getting a temp to fill in for me. But you know the office and the clientele well. You’ve been coming here on and off all your life. You could be the temporary receptionist while I’m gone.”

“That sounds…”

“No,” Mr. Dupree said. “Fia’s been working hard all quarter. She needs the rest.”

“I’ve been working hard too,” Bexley said. “I need a break too. You think it’s easy working for you? We get a real suck-fest of clients slogging in here telling me to smile more and wear more professional clothes. Firstly, these are professional clothes and secondly, do I look like the kind of person who smiles? There’s no way I’m going to smile at those fake and bake tanned sleaze-bag lawyers or that one farmer who always leans into the desk and tells me how good I smell. What does he think I am, an apple pie?”

“I think it would be fun,” Fia said, a lilt in her voice.

Mr. Dupree glared at Bexley. If she wasn’t such a good receptionist, he’d fire her on the spot. “The rest of my accountants agree with me. Fia should take the week off and you shouldn’t be running off to spring break.”

“I always worked during my spring break,” Curtis said. “That’s how I helped pay my way through college.

“Shut up, Cook!” Mr. Dupree snapped.

“I think it would be a great idea for your daughter to work here, sir.”

“This is going to be so much fun, daddy,” Fia said clapping her hands.

“Then we’re settled,” Bexley said. “I’ll start packing tonight.”

“It’s a dream come true,” Fia said.

“It’s going to be a nightmare,” Mr. Dupree muttered.

MY BOOKS

You can check out my books Chicane and all five installments of the Musicology book series Musicology: Volume One, Baby!, Musicology: Volume Two, Kid!, Musicology: Volume Three, Twist!, Musicology: Volume Four, Sweetie! and Musicology: The Epiquad on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback editions. You can also check out Musicology’s web site at www.musicologyrocks.com and vote for who you think will win Musicology!

STREAM OF THE WEEK: TWAS THE FIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS (2023)-APPLE TV+

This week’s pick is a documentary about a lawyer who wants to decorate his house with many, many lights and decorations and invite anyone who wants to swing by, and he’ll supply hot chocolate, cotton candy and other goodies. But his local Homeowner Association does not want him to do it. Seems like a lightweight silly story. Except it’s not. It’s a microcosm of present-day America and at times its downright chilling. An examination of a wolf or wolves who wear sheep’s clothing.

The tale takes place in Idaho in a quiet neighborhood where every house is a McMansion. Jeremy Morris is a lawyer who starts out by showing us his storage unit neatly packed with an abundance of Christmas ornaments, some which he inherited and others which he purchased himself. That is how many decorations this guy has. Even though he lives in a McMansion he still needs a neatly arranged but near full storage unit to store his Christmas decorations. He is fascinated not just by Christmas but also by American Heritage motifs. And he says his mission in life is to save Christmas. He claims his hero is Clark Griswald from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. He also appears to like The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. It is unclear, however, if he has ever seen or was inspired by A Charlie Brown Christmas or The Little Drummer Boy. Jeremy is a graduate of Liberty University School of Law. He originally wanted the documentary to be a multiple part series and contacted the director Becky Reed on more than one occasion to let her know.

Prior to Jeremy and his wife and three young children moving into the opulent Idaho neighborhood, Jeremy had a house in the city limits where he abundantly decorated it with lights and decorations. He invited an extensive crowd of holiday revelers to come view it. He didn’t, however, want or thought he needed to get a permit for his festivity which, after he decided to advertise it online began getting hundreds of hits. And so, he and his wife decided to find a house outside of the city limits to host an even larger Christmas event.

Jeremy and his wife did not purchase a farmhouse on a large piece of property with no one around for acres. Nor did they purchase a large empty lot with no one around for acres and build a house on it. Instead, they chose a house in a Homeowner Association neighborhood where all the residents who live there have a document of laws they agree to live by and depend on the same streets to get in and out. A fair number of said residents are retired.

Interviews with Jeremy’s parents tell us what Jeremy was like as a child, what his childhood was like, and his lifelong ambitions. I would encourage you to carefully watch the last scene with them and listen intently to what they have to say about their son.

Good morning. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce the second chapter of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week my novelist had me do a test drive on some new medication so that when I go into get my grooming, I will not have another mishap. The medication is designed to help me relax more and not be as high-strung. We poodles are quite high-strung, but I am higher-strung than most. I detest travel and as my novelist needed to go somewhere this weekend, I accompanied her. I took my medication a couple of hours before we left to see if the dosage the veterinarian suggested worked. It did not. I was not phased at all. I was in complete charge of my faculties. My novelist was aghast. She was hoping the quarter pill the doctor prescribed would be sufficient for me as it is a rather large and potent pill, and I only weigh six pounds. But apparently, I am a heavyweight, and my novelist must call the veterinarian to ask how much more she can up my dosage. In the meantime, I was given a bath which was awful but not as awful as usual as my novelist tried to make it short, calming, and succinct. This I was grateful for. I relaxed the rest of the day writing in the late afternoon to prepare for my blog post. And so, here it is, chapter two of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Disfrutar!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Two

Right after Sport left, the door opened and two of the accountants, Grady, and Irwin, entered the agency. They were each carrying a pastel-colored cup with “The Steamed Bean” printed on them with an Easter Bunny below the words.

“Hey, Cook the Books,” Grady said. “How’s it hanging?”

“It’s hanging well,” Curtis replied. “I think it’s going to be an outstanding tax season.”

“Think you might win the big prize this year?”

“I think we’re all hoping to win the big prize,” Curtis said forcing a smile.

Grady grinned at Irwin who grinned back. “Yeah, you keep hoping, Cook,” Irwin said and took a pull off his coffee.

Just then the other two accountants Makenna and Lance strolled into the office. They too each carried a pastel cup with “The Steamed Bean” printed on it with a little yellow chick below the words.

“Sup dudes,” Lance said running his fingers through his freshly cut hair. Lance always had his hair cut at Satin, a barbershop for men where the stylists were young women who wore bikinis. “Where’s the big guy?”

“Mr. Dupree is up in his office,” Curtis said.

“You would know, wouldn’t you Cook the Books. Say, what time do you get here every day? “You’re always here before the rest of us.”

“I…just try to be prompt.”

“I think you’re more than prompt. I don’t think you have anything else to do with your time.”

“I have lots of things to do with my time,” Curtis said absentmindedly picking up a Rubik’s Cube off his desk and fiddling with it.   

“Yeah? What did you do last night after you got home from work?”

“I walked in the door and fixed myself something to drink.”

“What did you drink?”

“I made myself a cup of Citron Green Tea.”

“That’s not a drink, Cook.”

“Sure, it is. It’s a beverage.”

“A shot of bourbon is a drink. A glass of scotch is a drink. A pina colada is a drink. Citron Green Tea is not a drink.”

Curtis narrowed his eyes. Lance was a grade A jerk. “Citron Green Tea is good for you. I like to live a healthy life.”

“But you don’t live much, do you?”

“What did you do after you fixed your tea?” Makenna asked with a smirk.

“I looked over my finances,” Curtis said.

“How are your finances doing?”

“Quite well, actually.” Curtis smiled at Makenna who stared him down like he was a rat. This caused Curtis to sink low into his chair.

Just then Bexley the receptionist hurried inside. She shook out her skull patterned umbrella and tossed it into the large metal umbrella holder by the receptionist desk. The group of accountants turned towards her and saw it had started to pour down rain outside.

“It’s raining cats and dogs out there,” she said setting her pastel cup with “The Steamed Bean” printed on the front with a picture of a duck underneath the words.

Bexley stomped behind the receptionist desk in her combat boots and straightened her ankle-length skirt. “Is Dupree in yet?”

“He’s upstairs,” Curtis told her.

“I need to talk to him,” she said, fiddling with the jingly bracelet-stack on her arm.

“What about?” Lance asked.

“I’m going on spring break.”

“But it’s tax season. We need a receptionist.”

“Dupree can get a substitute receptionist. It’s not like this job requires thinking or something.”

“Is this an April Fool’s joke?” Makenna asked.

“No, this is not an April Fool’s joke.”

“Good morning, troops,” Dallas Dupree said opening the door of his upstairs office and dancing down the stairs. “Are we ready to have a great tax season?”

“I need to talk to you, Dupree,” Bexley said marching up to him.

“Mr. Dupree,” he said correcting her. “Come up to my office.”

“Here’s fine.”

“Okay. Let her rip.”

“I’m going on spring break.”

“Spring break? What do you mean spring break? It’s tax season!”

“I’m leaving for Palm Springs on Thursday.”

“Thursday?”

“There’ll be a lot more people at the airport on Friday. Besides the Thursday flight was cheaper.”

“Is this an April Fool’s joke?”

“No, this is not an April Fool’s joke.”

Mr. Dupree turned to the group of accountants. “Is this an April Fool’s joke?”

“No, this is not an April Fool’s Joke,” they said in unison.

“Let me get this straight. Our receptionist has decided during the busiest time of the year to take off for Palm Springs and take part in spring break. Come to your senses, Bexley. Wait until May. It’s a beautiful time to take a vacation and you could avoid the crowds at Palm Springs or almost anywhere else that time of year.”

“Look, Dupree…”

“Mr. Dupree.”

“…if I want any chance of finding a boyfriend, and let’s face it this place isn’t exactly rolling in eligible bachelors, I need to go on spring break.”

“Spring break is the worst place and time to find a boyfriend. All anyone does at spring break destinations is hook up and party.”

“You know that from personal experience, Dupree?”

“Mr. Dupree and that isn’t the point. The point is you are being remarkably selfish and unprofessional. When you took this job, you knew this was a tax accounting agency and that tax time almost always occurs in April. I need you to be managing the front desk at this time of year taking phone calls and greeting clients.”

“My priorities have shifted. I’ve decided I’m too young not to have a social life. Besides, you could just hire a temp while I’m away.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to hire a temp these days?”

“You hired me as a temp, didn’t you?”

“Originally, but…”

“It’s only for a week.”

“It’s almost time to open the doors,” Dallas said exasperated. “Get to work at the receptionist desk and we’ll discuss this later.”

MY BOOKS

You can check out my books Chicane and all five installments of the Musicology book series Musicology: Volume One, Baby!, Musicology: Volume Two, Kid!, Musicology: Volume Three, Twist!, Musicology: Volume Four, Sweetie! and Musicology: The Epiquad on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback editions. You can also check out Musicology’s web site at www.musicologyrocks.com and vote for who you think will win Musicology!

STREAM OF THE WEEK: A HAUNTING IN VENICE (2023)-HULU

This week’s pick is a good old fashioned ghost story adapted from the book Hallowe’en Party by Agatha Christie. Sir Kenneth Branagh has been reintroducing the Hercule Poirot character to modern movie audiences starting in 2017 with Murder on the Orient Express, and later with Death on the Nile in 2022 . A Haunting in Venice is probably my favorite so far. The film deviates a bit from the novel. Set in Venice, the story begins with the famed opera singer Rowena Drake (Kelly Reilly) hosting a seance to try and speak to her young adult daughter who drowned. Retired detective Hercule Poirot (Sir Kenneth Branagh) is urged to go to the party by his friend, famed mystery writer Ariadne Oliver (Tina Fey). Oliver has been trying to expose nurse turned medium Joyce Reynolds (Michelle Yeoh) but cannot figure out how she performs her seances and hopes Hercule might be able to figure it out.

Reluctantly, Poirot goes to the séance, skeptical of Reynold’s ability to talk to the deceased. Poirot arrives to find out that the home Rowena Drake lives in is supposedly haunted by children. At first, he is suspicious of the experience, until one of the members of the party is murdered and he begins to see a little girl appear to him in different parts of the house who looks like she could be Rowena’s daughter.

The film is wonderfully moody and has a gorgeous set design by John Paul Kelly and beautiful cinematography by Haris Zambarloukos. Branagh’s directing is top notch as always and all the performances are first rate. A classy mystery for grownups. 

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle back to introduce the first chapter of my new story Certified Sadistic Accountant.  I am delighted to say that my cone came off yesterday. My novelist will be getting me a new grooming appointment soon which is less delightful but at least I no longer have my cone. I got to go on my first walk in two weeks yesterday. I cannot tell you how fantastic it was to get out and move about. I was agog. I am filled with excitement over my new story. I wondered if I should have chosen to pen something with more of a holiday flavor as we are amid the holiday season. But I think it will be an enjoyable tale just the same and hopefully a rather engrossing one. And so, without further ado I present chapter one of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Jouir!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter One

On a cold and dreary April Fool’s Day, Curtis Cook, accountant and esquire parked his pale green Honda Accord in the small back parking lot of the Dupree Accounting Agency. The agency was a two-story brick building nestled in the downtown area of a modestly sized city of 35,000 people. Curtis loved tax season because it was the one time of year he really shined. The Dupree Accounting Agency employed four other accountants. And although said accountants had graduated from better business schools than Curtis, none of them were as adept as he. So good was Curtis at accounting, they nicknamed him Cook the Books. This, however, was not a term of endearment.

Despite his status as a master accountant, Curtis had never been one to make friends easily. In fact, Curtis didn’t have any real friends at all. His fellow accountants were always playing tricks on him like turning his computer screen upside down, wrapping his chair and desk in Saran Wrap, and crank calling him at lunch to tell him he’d won free tickets to a concert. These petty pranks did not go unnoticed by Mr. Dallas Dupree, founder, owner, and head honcho of the Dupree Accounting Agency. Mr. Dupree also harbored jealousy towards his exceptional employee. But he loved the steady stream of clientele Cook brought into his firm. Cook didn’t have a great rapport with the clients, but he was able to find loopholes and windfalls that none of the other accountants could find. And so, although he often praised Cook for his extraordinary accounting skills, Mr. Dupree turned a blind eye to Curtis’s persecution.

As Curtis entered the offices of The Dupree Accounting Agency that morning, he instinctively knew this was going to be an unusually good tax season. Perhaps one of the best of his career. And he was on track to reach another professional milestone. Despite being only twenty-six years old he was about to make his first $100,000. All those nights coming home to his small barely furnished duplex and sitting at his lonely breakfast nook working on his stocks, watching their performances, selling this, and buying that were starting to pay off.

The first thing Curtis did each morning when he arrived at work was make a fresh cup of coffee from the coffee maker in the break room. The other four accountants always purchased espresso from The Steamed Bean just around the corner from The Dupree Accounting Agency. Curtis used honey to sweeten his coffee since he’d read somewhere honey was healthier than sugar. And since Mr. Dupree always stocked the breakroom with raw honey from one of the local farms, he figured why not add it to his coffee.

Curtis was running late that morning and unable to make his favorite oatmeal he always purchased from the co-op located around the opposite corner from The Steamed Bean at the end of the street. But Mr. Dupree always ordered fresh croissants every morning from a little local bakery two blocks down from The Steamed Bean and around the corner on a side street. They would be delivering them in fifteen minutes. But Curtis at the ripe age of twenty-six had become health conscience since graduating from college and had only tried the croissants once…on his twenty-sixth birthday. Today, however, was…unusual. It was the only day he’d ever been late. It is important to point out that Curtis was not actually late. But in Curtis’s mind he was. He always arrived at work thirty minutes early. Today he arrived twenty minutes early. He was still the first person in the office.

Curtis picked up his coffee and went out into the main office area which included a receptionist desk and six accountant desks. Only five of the desks were filled…except during tax season when a temporary employee occupied the sixth seat. Curtis sat down in his ergonomic chair and looked outside the large front windows facing the street. It was a typical April morning: cool and damp with a slight drizzle. Alexa had told him there would be thundershowers in the late afternoon. Curtis was not a big fan of thundershowers as they made for fewer clients. And at this time of the year Curtis wanted all the clients he could take on. In fact, Curtis was hoping to increase his number of clients this year by fifteen percent. He thought that was a good number as Tax Day was April 15^th. Mr. Dupree was once again offering a bonus for the most successful accountant. Curtis wanted that prize money. He was sure he should have won the past two years. But two years ago, the prize money went to Lance Lexington and last year it went to Makenna Russo.

Curtis looked up and saw Mr. Dallas Dupree enter the office. He wore, as he often did, a navy-blue double-breasted wool suit with a silk olive green tie and pocket square, and a pair of black Bruno Magli loafers. “Morning, Curt,” Mr. Dupree said.

“Good morning, Mr. Dupree,” Curt replied.

“Have the croissants arrived yet?”

“Not yet.”

 Mr. Dupree checked his Tissot Classic Dream Black Dial Steel Quartz Watch. “I was thinking of not having them set out in the breakroom today. Keep them in my office for a while. A little April Fool’s joke, you see.”

“That sounds like a plan, Mr. Dupree.”

“I think you’re right. I will hide the croissants.” Mr. Dupree headed over to the front door and gazed outside at the melancholy weather. “My daughter is coming home for Spring Break this Friday.”

“It’s her senior year, isn’t it?”

“It certainly is.”

“You must be very proud.”

“I was hoping she’d get a degree in Accounting like her father, but it looks like she’ll be getting a degree in Wingnut like her mother.”

“What degree is Wingnut, sir?”

“Performance Art. What is my daughter going to do with a degree in Performance Art? When I was in college, they never had a degree in Performance Art. I mean, you could get all kinds of oddball degrees like Cosmetology, Philosophy and General Studies. Useless things like that. But Performance Art takes the cake. Instead of buying her a college ring for graduation I might just as well purchase her a pup tent and an orange bucket. Maybe I could throw in some drumsticks so she could busk.”

“Is she heading off to grad school?”

“With scholarships no less. Apparently, that’s what they give you when you earn a 4.0 in Performance Art. The collegiate world wastes even more money by throwing it at you.”

Just then the kid from the bakery showed up with the box of croissants.  

“There she is, right on time,” Mr. Dupree said opening the door for the teen. “How are you, sport?”

“Just fine, Mr. Dupree,” she said. “I brought your baker’s dozen croissants.”

“Isn’t that marvelous. I’ll go ahead and take those from you.”

“Don’t you want me to set them in the breakroom?”

“Not today, sport. I’m going to hide them upstairs for a while. It’s a little April Fool’s joke I’m playing on the employees.”

“Okay,” she said handing him the large pink cardboard box. “Happy April Fool’s Day, Mr. Dupree.”

“Happy April Fool’s Day, sport.” Mr. Dupree gave her a tip, took the croissants, and headed upstairs to his office.

“Happy April Fool’s Day,” Curtis said to Sport.

The girl gave him a blank stare as if he were the creepiest guy she’d ever seen and left. Curtis felt a twinge of embarrassment. The same embarrassment he felt around members of the opposite sex. Especially the receptionist, Bexley. He’d had a crush on her ever since he’d started. Bexley always wore her straight dark brown hair in two braids and had textured bangs. Sometimes, when she didn’t feel like braiding it, she tied it off in sections with hairbands. She had steel blue eyes which she accentuated with heavy eyeliner and liked to wear orange lipstick to accentuate her lips. She had a stack of bracelets on her wrist that jingle-jangled and she tromped around the office in black leather combat boots and always called Mr. Dupree either “Dupree” or “Dallas”. Her complete disregard for respect made her even more luminous.

Curtis’s dream was to make enough money to impress Bexley. He often visualized scenarios of taking her out to a movie and to the best steakhouse in town…although he was certain she was a vegetarian. If he could just win the competition for best accountant this year, he knew he could gather up the courage to take her on a date.

MY BOOKS

You can check out my books Chicane and all five installments of the Musicology book series Musicology: Volume One, Baby!, Musicology: Volume Two, Kid!, Musicology: Volume Three, Twist!, Musicology: Volume Four, Sweetie! and Musicology: The Epiquad on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback editions. You can also check out Musicology’s web site at www.musicologyrocks.com and vote for who you think will win Musicology!

STREAM OF THE WEEK: AMERICAN BEAUTY (1999)-NETFLIX

When I first watched the satire American Beauty, I thought it was a solid film but not a great one. As time passed and I saw it again, I began to think about what made it intriguing. What kept coming to mind was the fact that Columbine occurred on April 20, 1999, and the film was released (limited) on September 15, 1999. And I think the timing hit a nerve with a lot of critics and film goers when it first came out.

How could a placid upper middle-class community like Columbine, Colorado, suddenly erupt into violence? The same question could be applied to American Beauty. How could a placid upper-middle class community in California suddenly erupt into violence? Why don’t we see the deadly wave coming and why do we do near nothing to stop it?

American Beauty did not set out to make a statement on mass shootings. And the film isn’t about mass shootings. But its roots are in American suburban violence. Alan Ball was initially inspired to write the script based on a highly publicized bizarre true crime love triangle where a 16-year-old girl named Amy Fisher had an affair with a 35-year-old man named Joey Buttafuoco. In 1991 after she turned 17, Amy proceeded to go to Joey’s house in Massapequa, New York, get in an argument with his then wife Mary Jo and shoot Mary Jo in the face with a .25 semiautomatic pistol. Somehow, somewhere at its core, American Beauty is a cautionary tale about the childishness of Americans, the way we focus on vanity and frivolity, and our blissful ignorance of looming treachery.

Lester Burnham (Kevin Spacey) is a middle-aged media executive who lives with his ambitious materialistic real estate agent wife Caroline (Annette Benning). They have an angst-ridden teenage daughter named Jane (Thora Birch) who is on the dance squad at school with her friend Angela (Mena Suvari). Upon attending a basketball game where the dance squad performs, Lester becomes infatuated with Angela, and begins daydreaming, examining his life, and finding ways to change to win the girl of his dreams. Lester is, however, delusional about her being underage. In the meantime, Caroline, frustrated and hungry for greater success, engages in an affair with Buddy “the King” Kane (Peter Gallagher) a successful realtor.

A new family moves in next door to the Burnhams: Former marine Col. Frank Fitts (Chris Cooper), his near catatonic wife Barbara Fitts (Alison Janney) and their teenage son Ricky Fitts (Wes Bentley). All are aptly named as fitting in is the last thing they are capable of, and the Colonel is prone to fits of rage. Frank takes issue with the homosexual neighbors Jim Olmeyer (Scott Bakula) & Jim Berkley (Sam Robards) who come to greet the Fitts family when they move in. Ricky becomes fascinated with Jane and films her from his bedroom window. By chance he strikes up a friendship with Lester and becomes his drug dealer. By the time we reach the climax of the movie, two guns have been taken off the mantle and at least one is going to go off.

From where I sit, the film’s message is to become an adult and appreciate life. Real life may be boring a lot of the time, but that doesn’t make it any less miraculous or precious. Sadly, it appears we are even more childish and more violent than we were in 1999. We’ve become more and more deluded by screens and less and less aware of the actual physical world around us. It’s been twenty-four years since the movie’s release, and we have learned less than nothing. Some critics think the film is dated and they take issue with Kevin Spacey’s personal life. But I think the film tragically becomes more powerful with age. For me it is a satire on shallowness and ignorance and how the pursuit of facades plays a crucial part in violent tragedy. American Beauty isn’t just the title of the film, it’s the villain.

Good evening. It is I Gigi the parti poodle returning to the blog after my most unfortunate grooming mishap. My wound required six stitches and my novelist had to put ice on it for three days. She insisted on putting ice on it for five. I found that to be a bit extreme. I must say I was most embarrassed to have that wretched Maltese introduce my blog last week, but upon having to take medication to heal, I did not believe I was in the right frame of mind with which to face my audience. As you can imagine, I was not pleased with the photo that furry little menace put up, what with me only half groomed and wearing that retched blue cone of shame. I appear a bit like Two-Face from the Batman comics with the present state of my hair. It’s monstrous. It is a good thing it was Halloween on Tuesday. Since I’d been healing for a week, I was able to bark non-stop at the costumed revelers who came to our door asking for treats. It lifted my spirits immensely. Now that I am almost fully healed, I will return to preparing my next story. During this short interim, my novelist has been most gracious to pen a short essay on the classic television show Moonlighting which is now streaming on Hulu, and this week she has three films she is recommending viewing all which are presently on streaming services. So, without further ado, here is my novelist.

STREAM OF THE WEEK #1: THEATER CAMP (2023)-HULU

This week’s first pick is a funny irreverent look at a kids’ theatre camp and the wacky people who run it. The story starts out with the founder of the camp AdirondACTS Joan Rubinsky (Amy Sedaris) and her business partner Rita Cohen (Caroline Aaron) going around recruiting kids for their camp. During a performance with some of their die-hard camp goers there are strobe lights which cause Joan to have a seizure. While Joan is in a coma in the hospital her adult son Troy Rubinsky (Jimmy Tatro) takes over the camp. Troy, who is knowledgeable about business but has no interest in theatre whatsoever, finds himself a misfit amongst the misfit theatre kids. The staff, including two long-time former theatre camp stars Amos (Ben Platt) and Rebecca-Diane (Molly Gordon) who easily relate to the kids help run the theatre part of the camp while Troy comes to find AdirondACTS is in financial dire straits.

As Troy struggles with his mother’s financial jeopardy, he meets Caroline Krauss (Patty Harrison) a young businesswoman. She represents the firm Barnswell Capital who owns the neighboring upscale lakeside camp nearby. Krauss tells Troy Barnswell Capitol wishes to buy AdirondACTS and help Troy and his mother Joan avoid foreclosure. But third generation technical director Glenn Winthrop (Noah Gavin), a secretly talented performer warns Troy that Caroline may be more ruthless than she seems and tries to help Troy earn money for the camp to keep the bank at bay.

In the meantime, Amos and Rebecca-Diane prepare to write the major play for the summer, Joan, Still, a musical biography about their beloved camp founder. The two have a complicated relationship. When they were kids in the camp Rebecca-Diane fell in love with Amos who came out to her. They both auditioned for Juilliard together and neither ended up attending. As they cast the show and proceed to finish the script, Amos finds Rebecca-Diane growing more and more distant.

STREAM OF THE WEEK #2: SWEET VIRGINIA (2017)-HULU

This week’s second pick is an independent neo-noir film set in a small town in Virginia. The story centers around former rodeo star Sam Rossi (Jon Bernthal) who is suffering from long term injuries from the sport. He inherited a small motel from his brother, which he runs between his drug addiction and late-night rendezvous with the married Bernedette Barrett (Rosemary DeWitt). Then one evening a peculiar triple homicide occurs at a restaurant outside of town where Bernedette’s husband, the café owner, and the young husband of Bernedette’s young friend Lila McCabe (Imogene Poots) inexplicably occurs. The killer, a young unstable man named Elwood (creepily played by Christopher Abbot), happens to be staying at Rossi’s motel as the mystery behind the murders begins to unfold. Although the film starts out a little odd (why does the owner of the café keep the door unlocked while the place is closed and he’s having a meeting and why is there still money in the till) it starts to pick up and turns into an interesting and tense little sleeper.

STREAM OF THE WEEK #3: EMILY (2022)-SHOWTIME

This third pick is a thoughtful and gorgeous looking film from writer director Frances O’Connor. No, this is not a true biopic as it is considered a reimagination of how Emily Brontë came to write her landmark classic novel Wuthering Heights. In fact, it is believed by scholars that Emily Brontë never fell in love. And yes, I might have preferred a film that was more historically accurate and had the lead look more like Brontë really looked (light brown hair and cornflower blue eyes as we can see in the painting by her brother Branwell completed in 1834). But that said, as a story it works and is a true pleasure to watch.

On her deathbed, Emily Brontë (Emma MacKey in a terrific performance) is asked by her sister Charlotte (Alexandra Dowling) how she came to write her novel Wuthering Heights. We then go back through Emily’s would-be tumultuous young adult life. After the death of the Brontë sibling’s mother, Emily struggles with grief and trying to find a way to gain her father’s respect. Emily, Charlotte tells her, is known in the village as “the strange one” due to her lack of social skills. Emily, in real life, was thought to have been an INTJ and we introverted NTs are terrible at social skills but tend to excel in areas we are gifted in and have a passion for. Meanwhile, her father Patrick Brontë has brought in a new curate William Weightman (Oliver Jackson-Cohen), to his church, a young pious and conflicted man who does not know what to make of the Brontë family, especially the brooding young Emily.

Emily is encouraged by her father to become a teacher like her sister Charlotte and goes off to teach with her at an all-girls school. But Emily’s introverted nature does not lend itself well to the job and she ends up returning home not knowing what to do with her life. But she turns out to find solace and newfound delight in spending time with her troubled brother Branwell (Fionn Whitehead) who after deciding to passionately pursue studies at the Royal Academy of Arts quits, returns home, and chooses to try writing as a career. Branwell encourages Emily to write and live a passionate life which brings unexpected joy into her otherwise dour world. But when their father catches wind of their spiraling hijinks, things take a turn for the turbulent.  

MY BOOKS

You can check out my books Chicane and all five installments of the Musicology book series Musicology: Volume One, Baby!, Musicology: Volume Two, Kid!, Musicology: Volume Three, Twist!, Musicology: Volume Four, Sweetie! and Musicology: The Epiquad on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback editions. You can also check out Musicology’s web site at www.musicologyrocks.com and vote for who you think will win Musicology!

Hello. My name is Tucker, and I am a Maltese. You are probably wondering why I am introducing this week’s blog. It is because Gigi had an accident. Gigi is a poodle and poodles are neurotic…although I only know one poodle and that’s Gigi. But as far as I know they are neurotic and wiggle around. She went in to get groomed and she wiggled around wrong, and the groomer accidentally cut the back of Gigi’s neck with the grooming sheers. The groomer called our novelist and said Gigi should probably go to the vet or the doggie hospital and likely needed stitches. My novelist went over to the groomers, picked up Gigi, and called our vet who said they couldn’t fit her to the schedule. So, we headed over to the animal hospital where a very likable vet put Gigi under a light sedation, and he stitched her up and sent her home. Gigi now must take magic peanut butter twice a day and is…I’m going to use a big word now: lethargic. This is a good thing. I like her this way. She is not as mean. I hope she gets well soon but I hope she learns not to be so mean. Especially if she is getting groomed. While Gigi is recovering, she and our novelist are taking time off to help Gigi to get ready to write her newest story. Below is a picture of Gigi recovering. And now here is this week’s blog. I think I did a good job introducing this week’s blog and deserve a treat. I would like a treat now.

Everything I Needed to Know About Writing I Learned From Moonlighting

Of all the television shows I’ve ever seen, nothing but nothing is like Glen Gordon Caron’s Moonlighting. Anytime you see a musical number, a dance number, a dream sequence, an episode shot in black and white, an episode from a baby’s point of view, characters breaking the fourth wall, characters breaking and not breaking character in cold openings, or (and you rarely ever see this) a Shakespeare episode on a television show, you can thank this screwball comedy drama masterpiece. And finally, finally, it is back on television, remastered and streaming on Hulu. If you are a writer, it is an absolute must-see as this was one of the very first successful dramedies. I was fortunate enough to have gotten my hands on the DVDs a while back so I could view them while all the petty rights to this and that and that and this were resolved, and this glorious quirky highly imaginative show could once again be aired. Just about any convention in television that existed before 1985, Moonlighting broke including bringing back the wonderful rapid-fire, overlapping dialogue originated by the stage play The Front Page which you may know better as the Howard Hawks movie His Gal Friday. Moonlighting didn’t invent overlapping dialogue, they reinvented it.

The one thing no one has ever been able to recreate, including Caron himself, was the incredible chemistry between Cybil Shephard and Bruce Willis (both ESTPs by the way). Many shows have tried, all have failed. The two actors were so believable as smart sophisticated former model Madeline Hayes and breezy wisecracking detective David Addison, it was scary. With Caron and his writing staff there to fuel the two stars with unparalleled dialogue and whimsical situations, no one could match them. And no one ever has except maybe the father son relationship in Breaking Bad between Walter White (Brian Cranston) and Jesse Pinkman (Aaron Paul). In addition to Maddie and David, the Blue Moon Detective agency’s quirky receptionist Miss Agnus Dipesto (Allyce Beasley) and temp agency employee turned junior detective Herbert Quentin Viola (Curtus Armstrong) and the acerbic MacGillicudy (Jack Blessing) round out the cast with strong performances.  Moonlighting was and is pure magic.  

When I originally saw the pilot for Moonlighting, I was hooked. And by episode four, I knew there was no going back. That’s when you start to see the show’s writers find their rythem and the chemistry kick in between the two leads. The lines are so droll and so cleverly delivered you must watch episodes multiple times to catch all the jokes. And believe me these are some hilarious bawdy jokes. Today’s shows would just use expletives to be funny. But in 1985 shows couldn’t do that without getting fined by the FCC. And so, much like Hitchcock, they had to find ways around it to get their point across which requires more finesse and clever thinking than just being blunt. Any writer can pen blue. It takes a skilled one to pen inuendo. Not to mention the characters had manners and often addressed each other with Mr. and Ms. before the surname, said “please” and “thank you” and “no thank you” and “excuse me” which may seem blasé in today’s world. And grant it, the world was more formal in 1985. But any smart actor or writer will tell you elevating your character makes for a more interesting performance.  

Something the show doesn’t get enough praise for are its more philosophical episodes. In fictional writing, a lot of emphasis is put on “show don’t tell” which works great…to a point. However, not enough is put on discussion and debate. And sometimes a dialogue driven debate outplays a scene of action. For instance, one episode has the leads discuss the subject of stalking, another has them arguing about domestic abuse, and yet another has them debating the pros and cons of assisted suicide. And all these scenes are riveting without an explosion, a stylized fight, or a car crash in sight. I wish more shows would allow their characters to discuss thoughtful topics than trying to always go for action. Or worse yet, make their character drive home how right they are about some subject instead of exploring the possibility there may be more than one side to an argument. Some shows are great at hooking the ending to keep the viewers coming back these days but may not infuse much thought or depth along the way.

There is one outstanding Moonlighting episode in particular which has a somewhat controversial surprise ending that probably led to a lot of conversations around the water coolers. About halfway through the episode there is a gorgeous monologue Maddie’s character has where she has made an unexpected choice. The monologue has her literally debating with both David and her inner thoughts at the same time. A lot of monologues now are one sided with a character driving home whatever point the writer is trying to make to support the premise of the story. In contrast, this scene has Maddie’s character analyzing her choice and playing an array of active beats: apologizing, begging, charming, persuading, requesting, and seducing all while simply sitting and talking and letting stillness, tension and thought enchant the viewer.

One of the best scenes ever written for the small screen is the final scene in Season Three Episode Fourteen. What they do here that is so remarkable is take their time. The scene runs almost eleven minutes long without a break allowing the tension to build to its explosive conclusion. I hate any scene that gets rushed or cut off at the end. There are so many scenes filmed on television and in movies for that matter where the scene is too short, gets cut off at the end or is rushed through with a lot of annoying camera work. And there is no excuse now to ever rush a scene with the way television shows are made having less episodes and more runtime. It’s better to take the risk, do the work, play the scene out all the way to the end and never miss or extract a single beat. These near eleven minutes are a slow burn, never rushing the writing, editing direction, or acting. Every beat is played out to the fullest. They let the pauses in between the lines run the full time they need. It’s like watching a great scene in a stage play. The scene would have worked best had it not premiered until the final season and if that had happened perhaps the show would have had a longer run. And the audience would have been joyous had it been slotted that way. But just looking at the scene alone, just the scene all by itself, it is extraordinary. 

It’s also important to point out the costumes and sets in the show are fantastic. They give the characters class and really immerse the viewer in the world. The eighties had a more unique style to it than the present day so that certainly helped. But the imagination and thought that went into what the characters wore and the surroundings they found themselves in helped give the show a certain je ne sais quoi all brought together by the outstanding cinematography that gave it its signature look.

When you do watch Moonlighting, I would humbly suggest focusing on the show and not on your phone at the same time. There were no smart phones in 1985 and so the show assumed the audience would pay full attention when watching it. If you don’t, you’ll miss not only the dialogue but the little bits and asides they do throughout and that would be cheating yourself out of this television gem.

MY BOOKS

You can check out my books Chicane and all five installments of the Musicology book series Musicology: Volume One, Baby!, Musicology: Volume Two, Kid!, Musicology: Volume Three, Twist!, Musicology: Volume Four, Sweetie! and Musicology: The Epiquad on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback editions. You can also check out Musicology’s web site at www.musicologyrocks.com and vote for who you think will win Musicology!