In crook stories it is always the necklace and in spy stories it is always the papers. -From Wikipedia entry

A MacGuffin is something that all the character’s care about, but its specifics are otherwise irrelevant to the plot.

This is true, I guess, but it misses the point.  Something should only be considered a MacGuffin if, in addition to the fact it provides the plot motivation, it doesn’t really exist, and even better, couldn’t really exists. It needs to be absurd.

The glowing brief-case in Pulp Fiction is the classic example, though it itself is a nod to some other movie.  By this strict definition,  the Rug in Lebowski would have only been a MacGuffin only  if we had never seen it.  Still, the fact that everyone agrees that it 'tied the room together',  makes it somewhat absurd, which is nice.

I’m not entirely alone on this. Hitchcock, who was the master of MacGuffin, understood this subtle distinction, though he didn’t allways implement it:

Interviewed in 1966 by François Truffaut, Hitchcock illustrated the term "MacGuffin" with this story:

It might be a Scottish name, taken from a story about two men in a train. One man says, 'What's that package up there in the baggage rack?' And the other answers, 'Oh that's a McGuffin.' The first one asks 'What's a McGuffin?' 'Well' the other man says, 'It's an apparatus for trapping lions in the Scottish Highlands.' The first man says, 'But there are no lions in the Scottish Highlands,' and the other one answers 'Well, then that's no McGuffin!' So you see, a McGuffin is nothing at all.

In this classic Kids in the Hall sketch, where every card was a wild card, Dave still “had nothing” .  His hand is certainly meets the impossiblity criteria, but no plot stems from it, so this isn't a MacGuffin.  If we found out about his hand at the beginning of the sketch, it would be perfect.

The GlenGarry leads would fit most people’s definition,  but I would be happier if , in the end, we found out that they never really existed.

If Kaiser Sose was fabricated by Verbal Kint, entirely withen that room in the police station, then Sose might merit consideration as a MacGuffin.    But as far as I understand The Usual Suspects, Verbal had been perpetuating the Sose myth for quite some time. Macguffins can’t been main Characters, even if their identity is withheld. Now, if they never show up, like Godot, they're perfect.

The second floor of the Gambling Operation in Two For the Money fits all the crieteria perfectly.  We never see it precisely because nothing that happened on the floor could really make Pacino’s operation believable. The second floor is just a place for the audience to store its disbelief while it gets on with the real story.  

Unfortunately, that second floor is the best part of the movie.

I am leaving San Francisco.

It makes sense for me to get out for a few months anyway. I’m not going to waste my energy trying to convince people that there isn’t a restraining order involved.  Though there really isn't.

I know I will be back but not in which capacity, maybe as the silent partner in a Crossfit Gym in Berkley, maybe just for a bite to eat.

 I know I have a lot to say about San Francisco, and I’ll try to say it well in the next few weeks. I have spent the last three years exploring the city, and hope that I have some insight into it deeper than prime jukebox locations. On the other hand, I never put both feet in, so to speak,perhaps for fear of stepping in the man-pooh (Figuratively, and literally),  so I may not have ever given the place  a fair shake.

Not that I expect to have a negative opinion. I really don’t know yet. I have to sort that out. As a single guy, I couldn’t ask for much more. But as a College student, I couldn’t ask for more than Athens, Georgia, but I knew that if I hung around there longer than I should, I would grow donkey ears. S.F. may be the same way.

There are exceptions of course. You’re not supposed to be a business traveler as long as I have been, but I was, and am still.

We'll see. I just wanted to give everyone the heads up.

I’m going to be renting a car and driving east around the end of April. I hope to stop by Lancaster to see my God Mother and Karen, Vail to have a drink at the Lions Pub and maybe catch one last run, Austin to see Andy’s boy, Memphis to check out that bar from the Swearing at Motorists Song where life is like a Townes song, and finally Atlanta, to do whatever.

I found some new Nuevo Mexican Place a few doors east of A16 that was so crowded they were milling around in the street.   Mamasitas I think it is called.  The food was good, but not sufficiently tethered to traditional Mexican to really work. 

Someone recently was explaining that they don’t hang out in the marina because of the “Marina Brads”.    I need to come up with another name for these blokes though, since I know a Brad from the Marina, and I don’t want to implicate him.   But I do like that expression, cause I think it conveys a lot.  Everyone reading this in Atlanta, for instance, pretty much knows what I am talking about. There was some serious Marina Steveage there.

A friend from work complemented the Slowdown yesterday and I thanked her, and said that I think I could be a bit more generous.   She said, “Sure, you’re a bit mean, but that’s what makes it fun”, or something close to that. The point is, she thought I was admitting to  being too harsh and judgmental, but what I really meant by “generous” is that I don’t explain enough.   I try to get my thoughts out in as few words as possible.  I know, in fact I am painfully and shamefully aware, that every sentence I write would be better as two (or Zero). But what are you gonna do?  The other ('Another', I should say)  problem I have is the frogger complex, which is that I leap to the next subject the first chance I get.  It’s like I was explaining to Jason: When you give a speech, don’t memorize the content, memorize the transitions.

For some reason I was thinking about “Halleluiah” last night as I left Mamasita’s. 

I don’t know why, exactly, but it had something to do with that “Red Right Ankle” song, which I should have said more about yesterday. It’s really good. I mean, you don’t get better than “Oh, adhere to me/ For we are bound by symmetry/And whatever differences our lives have been /We together make a limb.”   It’s something of a back pocket song, though it could be a bit cheerier.

Buckley’s “Halleluiah’ is ultimate back-pocket-mix-tape song. ’ “New Slang” by the shins is a popular one.   Much of that Garden-State soundtrack, in fact, was an attempt to capture this feeling.  These songs are eminently accessible yet contain semi-opaque lyrics, Most contain a flattened song structure to support the extra verses: There is no big bridge and crescendo formula.  All these characteristics lend itself to a sense of timelessness. I call them back-pocket songs because they are usually big things in small packages, and you want to keep them near you to get you out of a pinch.

I had more examples, but my iPod is down.

M. Ward’s “ O’Brien” is too brilliantly obvious.  Son Volt’s “Mystifies me” is a bit too edgy, what with its roots folk thing going on. Otherwise those two would be great examples. I like these songs more than most back-pocket songs for precisely the reasons stated.  Calgon, by Swearing at Motorists, needs to be put somehwere.  (Seriously, follow that link and click the Calgon song. How cool is that?!)

One thing about Halleluiah though:  What stands out there is virtuosity.  Jeff does the common uncommonly well in that song. He’s not showing off his pipes, or ripping the string of his Stratocaster, he’s just doing something singing and playing, perfectly.

Hey, I just thought of something obvious.  Clap Your Hand Say Yeah is what you listen to in order to get into Neutral Milk.     There, I just killed two birds with a rock.  They are half-way between the Shins and Neutral Milk Hotel.

Go listen to the songs by Clap Your Hands here, “Naomi” by Neutral Milk, and then you will be as primed as you’re going to get for NMH’s Aeroplane Over the Sea.      Assuming you have nothing better to do.

Hey, if you’re in a good mood, this will get you out of it. It’s the trailer for the Townes Van Zandt Documentary. It looks really, really depressing.  I already know he was as troubled as he is talented-- you can’t listen to him and not-- I don’t think I need to see a documentary on the matter.  A movie, maybe.

Any of you Canadians know where this is?  I want to go. Is it close?

May 27 - George, WA SASQUATCH w/ Sufjan Stevens, The Flaming Lips, The Shins, The Tragically Hip, Sam Roberts, Iron & Wine, Neko Case...

I still love the Tragically Hip. If I hadn’t given up on trying to make my friend listen to them, I would be pointing out all the Hip’s similarities to teh Hold Steady.  Instead, I offer you  'Courage' on their myspace page, or  this very old and strange 80’s music video.  Warning: Its old, Strange and 80’s*.  I think that as far as live performances go,  he’s the best frontman in rock, so you really need to see live footage to appreciate them. And you need to be Canadian.

Alex chimed in with some nice examples of swimming upstream.

I was talking to him about the band Clap Your Hands Say Yeah.  He seemed to think that my interest in them was waning.  I should make it clear that I think these guys are terrific.    They aren’t the second coming of the Neutral Milk Hotel, but such spottings are all so much chimera.   

Anyhow, I was listing to “Gimmee some Salt” with my mom yesterday

Song:  GimmeGimmeGimmeGimme some salt

Mom:  He should ask for pepper too

Me:  He said something about cooking up a shark

Song:   preparing witty remarks…witty witty witty witty remarks

Mom: It sounds like he is having company over

Ok, it was real cute in the car. Sorry. Hey, at least I'm not talking about my nieces!  (But that's just cause I waiting for pictures)

The Decembrists, who came on after, are another band that gets likened to Neutral Milk.  The similarities are incidental, but are no more apparent than in their song “Red Right Ankle”.

This is the story of your red right ankle
And how it came to meet your leg
And how the muscle, bone, and sinews tangled
And how the skin was softly shed

And how it whispered “Oh, adhere to me
For we are bound by symmetry
And whatever differences our lives have been
We together make a limb.”
This is the story of your red right ankle.

 

All this fleshy imagery is ‘notches-in-your-spine’ Neutral Milk-ish.

Damn, I can’t stay on topic. Ever.  Um, oh yeah, The Decembrists have a very good Anti-war song, and video.   I have found that if you can’t tolerate these kinds of things, and I sympathize with you, you can just ignore the pith and sarcasm and just take everything literally.

Like, for instance, when Bright Eyes yells “We’re going to make them goddamn certain how it’s going to end!” I just sing along with Jingoistic pride.

Such studied obstuseness is rarely worth the effort, but that Bright Eyes album  is otherwise brilliant, and  that Decembrists video is great fun.

By the way, Bolton’s appointment to the U.N., which the video lampoons, has been an unmitigated success. So says the impartial Jay Nordlinger, who also drew my attention to this brilliant Mark Steyn quote:

If I were a Palestinian, I'd occasionally wonder what I had to do to get a bad press."

Come now Anonymous Comment Person,  “SB” cant stand for "Snowboard" and  "Snowboarding".  Even the Smurfs got their 'smurfing' suffixes correct. I guess, for a snowboarder, I shud b :-) dat U didnt wrte lIk DIS.

You're right that I may be too pretty to SB though. I started wearing earth-tones while I ski, as a way to slowly  acclimate myself to the whole riding culture. And the headphones definitely help with that too. Sometimes  on my way to work I just stop walking and sit down in the middle of the sidewalk...

Just kidding.  I don't want to turn this site into a Riding/Skiing debate, I have enough people mad at me.  I find skiers who whine about boarders to be wrongheaded.  Y'all have as much right to the mountain as anyone else.   

This topic reminds me of the time I jumped all over Rich for complaining about how the Mexicans were tearing up the soccer field.  I worked on an analogy for him, something about how silly it would sound if I complained that Hippies and DINKs were ruining my  Dave Mathews Concert, but the topic never came up again. ( I may need to update my example. Alex, you got one?)

Oh come on,  if you get out to Lauzon's early enough, you can do this Crossfit workout with us.

For time:
50 Box jump, 24 inch box
50 Jumping pull-ups (Its suprising how little jumping helps)
50 Kettlebell swings, 1 pood (Pood = 35lbs,)
Walking Lunge, 50 steps
50 Knees to elbows (Hanging from a bar, raise K's to E's)
50 Push press, 45 pounds
50 Back extensions
50 Wall ball shots, 20 pound ball (squat, standup and throw ball 10 feet up, catch, rinse, repeat) 
50 Burpees (Jump-Squat-Thrusts)
50 Double unders  (Jump rope: One jump =  two passes of the rope)

For Full Descriptions of all the exercises, click here.

Last time I did this, it took 35 minutes.  C'mon Rich,  bring it!

This is what Crossfitters call a "Chipper". I got schooled at CrossfitSF last night by Adam, on an easier version of one.  If I had known he was the man to beat....

Anyway, great job Adam, it won't happen again.

My initial St. Patrick’s Day Impression of Squaw Valley was pretty accurate: It’s a great place for experts, but is terrible for those looking for long, wide groomers. Their one long run down the spine is jam packed with beginners.

My impression of Northstar, that it is has one great lift servicing the Backside, while the rest is a crowded mess, was wrong in that the FrontSide Bowl is also very nice.  The Mountain does present some logistics problems though. 

Heavenly in underrated, probably because it is so popular.  That big, steep,  moguly face on the California side, and the Fish tacos at the lodge overlooking it, are enough for me. 

I don’t remember Kirkwood much at all.

I tried skiing with Boots that fit and liked it.  I really like skiing with an iPod, though I feel like a hoodlum when I do.   Sunday I sang “my Morning Jacket” Songs down the mountain. Yeah, it’s not skiing music, per se, but it fit my mood.   That CD is going to be my favorite for most of this year, I can already tell.  I didn’t get it for most of last year, which is a good sign.

Ok, those are my ski thoughts. I am going to have to broaden my vocabulary before I write any thing else about skiing.  I mean, for  Pete’s sake, “Moguly”?

Did you guys know that if you poured lake Tahoe out over Texas, Texas would be covered with 8.5 inches of water!      That blows my mind.    This is assuming the Texas border was lined with a foot high inflatable boundary, which would, by the way, prove that no matter how big and expensive the inflatable pool was in your front yard, you’re still a redneck. Or something like that—There’s a joke there somewhere, I just don’t know it.

Well I got to thinking about how deep Lake Tahoe was, and then I really got depressed about recycling.  I mean, doesn’t it just go to show that we will always have a place to throw our trash. What’s the big deal?    We could throw our trash into the lake for a few years before anyone ever noticed.   Even if we filled it ¾ full, newlyweds could still take great photographs from the top of the mountain.

So I wasn’t going to share the 8.5 inches datum, cause I was going to save it for a drinking bet. You know the kind; ‘Do cheetahs' claws retract?”,  “Olympic Weightlifters run faster that Olympic Sprinters?”, “Does humid air slow Baseballs?”, “Did Bruce Lee’s son starred in Dragon,  the movie about the death of Bruce Lee”…  (One of those things are not like the other)

But I couldn’t figure out how to phrase it, and unlike the other ones, it was unlikely to come up in normal conversation.

Usage Note: ‘Datum’ is of course correct usage for ‘a single piece for data’. Did you know that Factoid means, “and incorrect or unverifiable piece for data, that is presented as fact?”  Just like how Humanoids ain’t human, Factoids ain’t facts.  Someone was explaining this to me the other day, so I thought I would pass it on.

Ok, everyone, if you have access to some sort of download service, go download Golden, and Just one Thing by My Morning Jacket.   If you like the songs Bar Lights  and Mystifies Me, you couldn’t  spend two dollars a better way. (Unless, of course, you don’t own Bar Lights and Mystifies Me, in which case, you probably ought to go buy those songs).

From the Link:

It Still Moves almost immediately confirms that the spacy Southern psych that My Morning Jacket built their name on remains their bread and butter.

...

..., finally, the band leaves James alone in his silo to close the album with the searching, desperate "One in the Same", a song that finds him seemingly trying to sort fragmented memories into coherent thoughts. When he hits the lines, "It wasn't till I woke up/ That I could hold down a joke or a job or a dream/ But then all three are one in the same," it should put a lump in your throat.

Or listen for free:

Check out the October 13th "Morning Becomes Eclectic" link on this page http://www.mymorningjacket.com/streams.html.   (Golden is not on the video link for some reason, but is at the 11 minute mark on the audio Stream, Just One Thing is at 34:20, but there is so much great stuff you should just listen (or watch) the whole thing.)

Some Farrar for yah too: http://www.jayfarrar.net/av/index.htm

So I don’t write about dates. Normally.    But SOMEBODY* is filming these, so its fair game. 

Where was I?  Oh yes, Scott Howard.

I get there thirty minutes early wearing jeans and a courduroy jacket, an outfit I am now told makes me look like Indiana Jones.   The size of the SOMETHINE SOMETHING forced me to consider exactly what I was getting into.   There are LOTS OF THINGS I AM NOT ALOUD TO TALK ABOUT.  Not that I had been there before.

(I was in this space when it used to be a Seafood Restaurant.  In fact that was the night I met Borys the Bartender at Jeanty’s, which has the Tomato Bisque that shares the pantheon with Scott Howard’s upstart Carrot Broth Soup.  But I digress.)

This was a big production. For the week leading up to this I hadn’t given the whole “reality show” thing much thought.   Then they strap a wire to me, make me sign a few releases, and then tell me to act natural and that Michelle will be there soon.  (I am right now fighting the urge to rewrite this whole entry in hard-boiled, Whiskey Sean, mode.)

So I grab a barstool closest to the well and order a Hendricks and Tonic, with a Cucumber. I’m gabbing it up with the staff when Scott Howard himself comes out to say hello.    We talk for a bit, since I knew a bit about his former restaurant Fork, and then I ask him if I can see his kitchen.  Once I get back to the bar, I order another Gin and am really starting to settle in when I FOUND OUT THAT Michelle is about to come in, and that I should go meet her at the Hostess booth and act Natural.

Who stands around the hostess booth waiting for their blind date to show up?  

When you see me on T.V. for the first time, it will be as though I was waiting around at the hostess booth like a dweeb, but know that I was actually chatting with the bartender about how I admired her bar and plan on coming here often  ("Arriving early to familiarize himself with the terrain, Sean sought to rally the locals to his side". Maybe I should re-write this entry in the voice of intreped wildreness expert "The Rum Sean)". 

So I’m standing at the Hostess booth, trying to get the hostess’s number (Kidding, though being wired made the opportunity almost irresistible, I made a note to hit on somebody just to make the crew feel awkward), when Michelle walks in, looking great.  I can’t say that I remember exactly what my immediate thought was, probably  ‘Nice shoulders’. I remember being very relieved.   It probably showed on my face.    I gave her a hug and took her over to the bar to meet the staff. 

Well, that’s what I would have done, but INSTEAD I WENT TO THE TABLE.   

The rest of the dinner is something of a blur.  We had light banter throughout the entire, delicious meal. Ron, our server, was perfect, Michelle demonstrated great taste enjoying the rest of my Hendricks and Tonic….. I don’t like talking about dates.      

When Dinner was over we said goodbye while I waited for the Valet to bring around the P.T. Cruiser I had rented for the weekend.   Good planning there, Chet.

CLARIFICATION:  For the second time this year someone said to me "a Web-log? Isn't that sort of egocentric? "    The only reply I can think of is to press my lips together and make loud farting noises. 

Some people spring to my defense with "Its just a diary, only online", which is nice of them, but point-of-fact, this is not a diary. Whenever I start writing about the innner workings of my brain (Cue circus music, and video of unicylcing, cymbal-playing monkeys), of even worse, how I feel about something personal,  the certainty of my own lameness hits me like a ton of bricks.  Actually, it feels more like getting smacked in the face by a large mackeral, except entirely unpleasant.

I am trying to be entertaining. Sometimes be being informative, but most by making you laugh. Even a chuff, or small chuckle is good. Sometimes I even shoot for that look John Goodman gives Nick Cage in Rasing arizona: Just lower your head, and pinch the bridge of your nose, gently shaking your head in quiet disapointment.

UPDATE:  The Sections in Caps have been rewritten recently.

So after that fateful night of Sushi, Ms. Bond sent me some emails trying to set up a date with Michelle.   I told her I “wasn’t not at all interested” but that Michelle, from what I have been told, didn’t “seem to be my type”. That glowing email was forwarded to Michelle

I keep thinking it over, and I can’t see how this reflects poorly on me. People are presumably allowed to have a “type”, else the expressions would cease to be used in polite company.  And since I was basing this on her own friend’s descriptions, and the common sense assumption that ABC would make a show out of following around ugly women, it’s not like I was being superficial.    

Maybe its just one of many expressions you can never get away with, like “you are one of those people”.   It doesn’t matter how flattering the categorization, the phrase  “one of those people” puts people on edge. Myself included.   For example, “Oh, you give to charity eh?  You are one of those people”, will be met with a defensive  “Huh? What do you mean? No I’m not, I just give a little. For tax purposes.” 

Anyhow, after Ms. Bond’s relentless match-making, Michelle and I agreed to meet me for dinner, at Scott Howard, which I mentioned a while back. In that post I didn’t mention Michelle, just the Carrot Soup.  That’s simply because I almost never mention dates.  I talk about dates with guy friends over beers.  It would be different if this site were anonymous, but its not, since I tell everyone I know about it.

Writing Anonymously allows you to lie to other people, but allows you to be completely honest with yourself. On the other hand, telling people where they can look into your thoughts, keeps you honest with them, but boxes you in such that you can’t be completely honest with yourself.   Now, I take pride in being honest with myself in most things, but I know that when it comes to relationships, I could use a big shot of selfishness.      I am by no means suggesting that I am doomed by my own generosity in a relationship, far from it.   I am only saying that while dating everyone benefits from a straightforward pursuit of their desires.    It’s a rare instance that self-interest should be the first-thing, but they don’t say  “All is fair in love and war” for nothing.