Friday, May 20, 2005


I have been anticipating with great joy only three movies this summer, and they are as follows:

"Herbie: Fully Loaded"

I adore the Herbie movies. But if one more media sycophant writes "...the story of the talking VW..." I'm going to yank my own head off, dribble it the edge of the stairwell and slam it into the nearest garbage recepticle.

Herbie never talked moron. He beeped, but he never actually spoke. And from what I understand, he doesn't speak in this one either.

Freakin' morons. Get your pop culture correct, will ya?

In this new story, the luscious Lindsay Lohan finds Herbie rusting and discolored in a wrecking yard and makes a new friend. Herbie saves her father's racing team by helping them win at NASCAR with Lindsay behind the wheel. The trailer is swimmingly Disneyfied.

My favorite scene is where Michael Keaton (barely holding his head above slumming in a Disney flick) tells her to gun it during a NASCAR race. When she does, Herbie climbs right over one of the other race car's.

Thus, another classic entry in the Herbie franchise is born. And I hope it makes me forget what a waste of time "Herbie Goes Bananas" was.

"Batman Begins"

Giving in to my dark, geeky side, I watched the 10 minutes of clips they showed at the end of last week's tremendous season finale of "Smallville." This film is going to go head to head with Star Wars as the box office champ this summer. All the enjoyable icons are there, along with the trademark gadgets. I've always been enamored of Batman: a man who battles personal tragedy and guilt to become a hero to all in his hometown.

And Katie Holmes in all her luscious pre-Cruise beauty adds to the eye candy.

Any woman who can make a man gleefully jump up and down on Oprah's couch has to be worth watching.

"Star Wars: Episode III: Revenge of the Sith"

This is my first summer film and it came just short of my expectations. It's what I would call an "Oreo flick." The outside cookie layers are filled with chocolatey entertaining goodness. The middle if bland and lifeless.

Let me see if I can explain to those you give a damn.

The first act is pure Star Wars adrenaline. R2-D2 almost steals the show in all his CG glory. He moves incredibly quick and has twenty new gadgets we didn't know he could use.

But he rules this movie.

The first act has Anakin and Obi-Wan attempting to free the chancellor. Little do they know they're being set up by him to help turn Anakin to the Dark Side.

But within all this murkiness, R2 is on the outer part of the ship they're on making everything possible. I wish the rest of the film had kept this level of energy.

Throughtout the entire film, R2 rides almost sidecar-like in the Jedi Starfighters. Whenever the ship lands, R2 pops out about six feet in the air, lands, bounces and is on his way. The two friends I was with noticed I laughed out loud every time this happened. I wish I had an R2 unit for my very own, to be my best friend, to pull me from the Dark Side.

The middle act of the film bogs down with Natalie Portman and Hayden Christensen attempting to find some chemistry. They look in Anakin's open shirt. They peer into his nightmares. They even take a moment to look through a book which looks remarkably like the script to "Star Wars", but still, no chemistry. Every time the two of them were on screen together, I sighed inside, wondering when the story would put them aside and return to the energy of the first thirty minutes.

They could have established how much they care for one another in this one amazing scene. Anakin is looking out of the window of the Jedi Temple toward Padme's apartment while she does the same from her apartment toward the Temple. It's only for a moments, but it speaks volumes more than whatever tripe George Lucas was trying to serve.

The final third is where everything goes to hell and its fantastically entertaining and depressing as you watch your favorite characters spill into the edges of the galaxy.

Now we're supposed to have a TV series and another animated series. If George Lucas wishes to continue exploring this universe, I will most likely follow.

Just stop showing Yoda trying to steal a Diet Pepsi at a diner, ok? If Yoda drank anything, it would be a Coke. Or after everything he's suffered through in Episode III, a good shot of tequila.

If George had any brains, he could have gone full tilt with these characters and had them advertise and sell more in line with their characters.

Darth Vader could sell guns at Wal-Mart. Yoda could barter for swamp land in Florida. Obi-Wan could peddle Viagra. Forget the soda pop and cell phones George, think outside the box!

I have no ending for this, so I lie down on the floor, curl up in a ball and hum the Star Wars theme as I rock back and forth, hoping to one day find my distant friend, R2D2.

Beep, boop, blapablapablap!

I love you too R2D2.

Sunday, May 15, 2005

Time to Check the Stacy Radio Show E-Mail Bag

This e-mail comes to us from Jessica at the Kendall Jackson winery. It actually said "" and I simply looked up the suffix.

I know. I'm a frickin' genius.

Here now, is the body of said e-mail, from Jessica:

Hey Stacy...

You're always talking about your lack of success with women and I was wondering...what's up with that? You're adorable, have a great personality...heck, I'm single and I would go out with you!!!

- Jessica

What follows is my honest, self esteem lacking response. Enjoy!

Hello Miss Jessica...

Thank you for taking the time to send dopey afternoon radio boy an e-mail. That was very cool of you. The following are the top reasons why I am single:

1) I'm a dork.

I'm in my 30's and still a registered, all-American 100% dorky geek. Or geeky dork, depending on your point of view. And I'm guessing your personal view doesn't involve Batman, Star Wars, Star Trek or anything having to do with "Smallville". Thus, I am single.

2) I'm 5'7"

Most women I know prefer guys who are at least 6' tall, beefy and packing considerable heat. I'm much shorter, less than beefy and lukewarm. Thus, I am single.

3) I'm skinny.

This is fine if you're a young woman and you wish to live up to the ideals of "Cosmo" and "Glamour", but when you're a guy, it's embarrassing. Everything I eat goes straight to my gut, which makes my appearance even less pleasant. When I hug women they respond that it feels like they're hugging a scarecrow. Or an IV pole. Depends on their profession. Thus, I am single.

4) I'm a workaholic.

I worked for years and years, put up with loads of crap from people of lesser talent and smaller minds, just to get a dopey radio show in Santa Rosa. But I love it. Sometimes I believe I can't live without it. Most women find this alluring at first, but the shine quickly wears away, leaving nothing but a coat of disdain and hatred. Thus, I am single.

5) I'm not wealthy.

Most women think radio personalities make tons of dough. My initial response to this is, "Ha!" I struggle like most of my middle class listeners. Plus, it's difficult to date when you still haven't paid your anaestesiologist bill. Thus, I am single.

6) I'm moody.

Like a rollercoaster that makes your nerves thrill and your stomach vomit. Need I say more? Thus, I am single.

7) I'm damanged goods.

I spend three days a week, three hours at a time, suffering through dialysis. Who wants to console someone like this week after week? Very few. And out of that group, even fewer. Thus, I am single.

Thanks for writing Miss Jessica! Have a wonderfully Jessica-ish weekend!

Stacy Without an E