Bedbugs LXXIX

Bedbugs LXXIX


Click here for an explanation of how Bedbugs is created.

Click here for the previous Bedbugs.



Match the makers of merriment and mercy
that are hiding behind the back
door keeping all the secrets to
themselves. Stay dry out there
even if you're required to be drowned in
it. Resume intellectually not the brand
they improvement by centimeter isn't
understood by the top people. Know this as
the seasons change that time's little
understanding of where she had me
interested, until her narrative began.
Guiding the stories with words not understood.
Paint that hides a couple of scars is
still a temporary solution. Find transparent
on the first note could help everyone hiding
in the basement understand. Wait for
the low tone to match the body shape.
We're all in this quest together! Still
beautiful, in a manner of speaking.


Next week's seven phrases/groups of words:


-baffled at your level of comprehension
-she waited for you until they
-keep me out of the line of
-only for their approval
-rusted texture on the wall behind me
-playing the field at last
-do you hear it too?

-Adam

SIN-E-FILE (Bo Harwood)

"I have the sin of the cinephile"- Jean Luc Godard

I am working on an article about Michael Ventura's excellent on-set diary book Cassavetes Directs: John Cassavetes and the Making of Love Streams, which has totally shaken up all my assessments of this incredibly mysterious and significant filmmaker, and might be the best book on the actual process of filmmaking that I have ever read. I interviewed Ventura over the phone a few weeks back and some of the stuff we talked about has sent me back to the film itself (which is hard to find on DVD in this country) and Ventura's companion documentary, I'm almost not crazy (also, sadly, hard to find). Its been a rewarding and daunting endeavor.

One of the aspects of the work that I am rediscovering is the music. Bo Harwood worked with Cassavetes for 15 years, starting in 1971 with Minnie and Moskowitz. Harwood composed music for the films and wrote and recorded songs (some co-written with Cassavetes) that are both heard in the background as source music and prominently featured. Harwood claims that often Cassavetes used the "scratch track" version of his compositions, rather than let Harwood refine it and re-record it with an orchestra. Some of these scratch tracks were actually recorded in Cassavetes office, with just piano or guitar, and ended up in the final film. Cassavetes appreciated the purity of these pieces and felt like that certain something wouldn't survive the refinement process. This, at times, frustrated Harwood.

Cassavetes applied this approach to many areas of the filmmaking process. Often times using non-professional actors, and even non-professional crew members, and simply riding the wave of sincerity and spontaneity, forming it into his own kind of truth. It takes actual "directing" to do this kind of filmmaking; a constant conscious conducting of moments, accidents and chance. Ventura does an amazing job of documenting this in the book, as it was happening.

Harwood was one of these "non-professionals" that was hired by Cassavetes to do a job that really shouldn't be trusted to a novice. On A Woman Under the Influence the sound man was fired and he asked Harwood, who was already working on the music, to do the sound recording job as well. Bo had never recorded sound for a movie before. Ever. John knew this and didn't care. Bo did it. He has worked as a sound man in movies and TV ever since. There are numerous stories like this. How did Cassavetes know it would be alright? One of the many mysteries about the man.

Watching Love Steams again, and hearing the strangely poignant music of Bo Harwood used so effectively by Cassavetes made me wish there was some way to have access to this music. Over the years I have come across other people who were very excited by this music as well, who were also lamenting its inaccessibility. So, on a whim the other night, I found Bo Harwood's email online and reached out to him. I expressed my appreciation of his work and asked what the possibilities were of somehow, someway having access to it. He was gracious enough to answer. I don't think he would mind if I share part of it with you.

"...Over the years, it never really occurred to me to 'put out' a CD of our music probably because I've just always thought the music is where it belongs. But for some reason, during this last year, I have received a lot of email from people who really appreciate the music and wonder where they can get it. One of these people was Jeffrey 'Luck' Lucas in San Francisco who spurred me several months ago to put something together. So I went to work. The CD has a few improv sessions of John and myself which was how we began our song writing together. Most do not know that John and I wrote a lot of really nice songs that only a hand full of people have heard. The CD has other selections that are more familiar, some raw songs, some fully orchestrated cues. Most of my time has been writing a 26 page history section covering the 15 years I worked with the man. I never get tired of talking or writing about John. I've been invited to a screening of "A Woman Under the Influence" at the San Francisco Film Festival on the 26th. I'm meeting Jeffrey then and been asked to play at a club he's billed at to play some of my new stuff. It'll be a terrific 3 or 4 days and hopefully Jeffrey's record people will take an interest in my CD 'booklet' project..."

What's the chances that a music industry on life-support would take interest in such obscure material? Perhaps such niche work is the only stuff that has a chance in the marketplace. Regardless, this is exciting news for lots of fans. I guess, short of sending record people his way, we have to keep our fingers crossed.

-Peter Rinaldi

Goodbye Bea Arthur

We here at the BBF are saddened at the passing of one of the truly great funny ladies the world has known.

Journey To Published (6)

This video blog will chart the progress Brian Hughes will be making to get his novel The Boxpress Manifesto published.

Here's Part 6 of the journey...

SIN-E-FILE (The World of Apu)

"I have the sin of the cinephile"- Jean Luc Godard

After five months of intense mental suffering, eight undeserved Oscars and countless arguments with fans, I have finally received the antidote to Slumdog Millionaire.

The cure for this diseased piece of cinema has come in the form of a truly classic film that I took in the other night at the Walter Reade Theater, one that I had seen before years ago, made a mental note of its greatness, and yet still, somehow, it remain buried in my mind. Thanks to the Film Society of Lincoln Center, I rediscovered this incredible work. It is the last film in Satyajit Ray's Apu Trilogy, The World of Apu.

Both take place in India, but that's not really why a comparison was formed. What annoyed me most about Slumdog was that it was billed as a love story, when, in fact, it is significantly lacking in cinematic evidence that the characters actual love each other. What is really sad about this is that it doesn't take much to establish a romantic flame between two people in a movie. It is also depressing that most people actually didn't mind that there was no real romance in the film. To these people, when a character says "I love her", apparently that's enough.

Well, not only is that "not enough" for me, but I actually find it incredibly insulting as a filmgoer.

That's why when one sees The World of Apu, it becomes abundantly clear how love can be conveyed in a film. But what is so amazing about Ray's film is just how much we are invested in this relationship considering how simply and efficiently this story is presented to us. This, frankly, is what separates a mediocre filmmaker from a master. The main character, Apu, goes from being alone, to being in love, to being alone again after having loved, and the complexity of these three states is tangible to the viewer and not just alluded to. It is a visceral experience that's produced from the intricately drawn characters and the story. In Slumdog, the experience is also visceral, but it is produced from the overpowering music and conventional cliches and devices, resulting in a fleeting feeling.

How depressing and embarrassing to have a film from 50 years ago offer me a more lasting and significant experience. What does this say about our times? Our "art"?

I hope I am overreacting. I really do.

Here is a clip from The World of Apu that's on Youtube. Naturally, it is just plain wrong to watch a short clip from this wonderful film. But maybe it will spark your interest and you'll check out the whole thing.


-Peter Rinaldi

Bedbugs LXXVIII

Bedbugs LXXVIII


Click here for an explanation of how Bedbugs is created.

Click here for the previous Bedbugs.



Don't tell me you're sorry! Don't tell me you understand!
You don't even believe this sign of the coin exists because
you were told it didn't before I met you. The pretty one
got over him and brought a lot of sundown sooner than expected.
A vacation of clarity is required to properly gauge the
texture anticipated to build a place that can block the
phonograph's music out. Against all costs, it must be left
behind even if a pretty face tells you to listen! Tell me brighter
out west than here, do you think? Any time away from it will help.
Heal....please. Willing the wounds to stitch themselves. Better
than summoning infections that don't show up on any of
the masked doctor's charts. Talkative, I think she's not
which makes me nervous, why do I have to do it all?
Make me wish for it even as I'm out of body, and noticing near
where I live, they are gathering. They don't show up under
a flashlight, but they are there moving but not walking
like we do. Seventeen of them waiting in the field
and I think something's upstairs.. do I wait until I return to
handle this? Do I give up? Who is that in the house?



-Next week's seven phrases/groups of words:


-Stay dry out there
-improvement by centimeter
-she had me interested, until
-paint that hides a couple of scars
-transparent on the first note
-low tone to match the body shape
-still beautiful in a manner of speaking

-Adam

The Story Slice: Part 6: Heather So Long

This is the continuation of a story that began here:

Part 1: Maureen (1)

Part 2: Maureen (2)

Part 3: The Takeoff

Part 4: Colleen

Part 5: Alex

by Brian Hughes

Cahil was listening to Barry’s Manilow’s “Somewhere Down The Road” on his iPod in the hotel café – staring at internet pictures of Heather and her man, at least fifteen years her senior, from her MySpace “Mexico Vacation” album, feeling bad for himself, clutching his blackberry, her speed dial number at the ready. He knew Alex was right, that he should just forget here, for whereas Alex and Maureen and Colleen where just libido fantasies, Heather was more. Dangerous. Forget it, he told himself over and over. Work on the Brenda Burgundy piece, you have her interview tonight … it could be a career defining piece for you, over and over he was telling himself, but he pressed the button just the same. She answered:
“Cahil! How are you?”
“Did I catch you at a bad time? I can call back.”
“No, no … what’s going on? What brings you out to Los Angeles?”
Cahill filled her in on his career and how it was moving along steadily. He didn’t mention his engagement, nor his wedding.
“I have to be honest with you … Colleen said you had come to town and I was hoping you’d call because … I don’t know … I feel we should talk and catch up.”
“Really … well, great! Are you available for coffee this afternoon?”
“This afternoon … let me look at my schedule …”
Why did she want to speak with him? What did she have to tell him?
“No … I think I’m good … yeah,” she laughed, “I think that would be great! Yeah … yes! Let’s hook up.”
“Cool! Awesome.”
“Do you want to meet at the Coffee Bean where we last had java?”
“Sure! Perfect!”
There was a silence. Heather actually sighed.
“I’m glad you called Cahil. So glad you called.”
“I’m glad I called as well. So, I’ll see you at three?”
“Yes … perfect.”

It became nothing but positive love songs on the way back into the valley: “Love Lift Us Up (Where We Belong),” “I Just Fell In Love Again” by Anne Murray, “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head,” and “You’re My First, The Last, My Everything” by the grand daddy of soulful love, Barry White; And Cahil was singing too … oh, he certainly was. Fuck Brenda Burgundy and her cocaine and her entourage and her problems. Fuck her, fuck everything, Cahil thought as he stopped at a roadside shop to pick up a basket full of lavender products – Heather’s favorite aroma.

Cahil’s left leg went up and down as he sat at a window seat, basket on the table, customers ordering coffee, unaware of the movie-like moment happening in his life. When he gazed upon Heather getting out of her vehicle in the large mall parking lot, reaching for her purse in the back seat, it was like a gleig light shone only on her and blocked out the entire shopping madness of Ventura Boulevard. His heart began to race. He at once felt an anchor of sadness, that this would never work, and a joy that brought tears to his eyes. He looked up and around and across to let air into them. He could not believe the eruption of emotions in the first split moment of seeing her; after the years of wondering what this moment would be like, it had finally arrived.
Heather’s shoulder went up in unison as she made eye contact with Cahil, and the shoulders lifted her face into a warm smile as she walked over and they embraced.
“I am dumb struck as to how amazing you look,” Cahil said
“Oh … not really …”
“Yes really! What have you done? Your waist is the smallest I’ve ever seen it!”
“I go to the gym a lot and lay off the carbs.”
“Remember all the diets we’d try, all the new ones that would land on the best seller list?”
“Oh, yeah … we’d compare notes.”
“Yup.”
“And the music we’d play in the stock room.”
“It was all Britney and Christina for me back then.”
“And I’d play you some brooding songwriter, like Neil Young or Bob Dylan.”
“And The Doors.”
“Naturally, The Doors.”
Heather wanted green tea. She reached for her Manga designed, Velcro wallet, but Cahil wasn’t having it. Everything was on him today.
“What is this basket,” she beamed.
“It’s for you. It’s all for you. You still love lavender, right?”
“Yes, yes, of course … but you shouldn’t have.”
“There’s so much I want to talk about, I don’t know where to begin.”
Heather smiled, and when she smiled, her small oval lips crept up her mouth and exposed her dimples. She looked down for a moment and took in a deep breath.
“Why don’t you begin with why you came out here?”
Cahil chuckled and looked out the window. It was an open invitation to jump in and cut to the chase. Why had she smiled when she said that? She knew, didn’t she, Cahil thought, she knew he had come out west in the hopes that she would dissolve everything and take him in her arms.
“Well, I came out here because I was given a tremendous opportunity to interview the hotter than hot R&B singer, Brenda Burgundy.”
“Really?” she asked.
“No, that’s not the reason. I should get us some tea. What kind do you want again?”
“Breakfast.’
“I can’t tell you how great it is to see you in person again, in person and not in pictures.”
“It’s great to see you too, Cahil.”
Cahil bought the teas and sat back down, staring at the table before them.
“Is there anything wrong,” Heather asked.
“No, no, of course not, not at all. I couldn’t be happier. Heather, listen, I want to catch up and talk and all, but I have to say what’s on my mind…”
“Okay,” Heather said with trepidation.
“Okay … wow … I don’t think I’ll be this nervous when I speak with Brenda Burgundy, hahahaha ….okay … here goes … Heather, I, I love you very much, I, I, have been just stuck, I, I have been unable to think of anyone but you since I came back to New York and I look at your pictures on MySpace and on Flickr and on Facebook, and I can’t shake your image, and, and I don’t dare talk to you, or instant message you, because I know it will lead me down the wrong path…”
Heather had her hand over her mouth, tears swelled in her eyes.
“I don’t know, Heather, its been a problem with me my whole life, I’ve let great women slip through my fingers, and I guess, before I enter the next important stage of my life, I had to come out here and see you one last time to tell you how I feel, how I will never forget you, never forget seeing you enter the stockroom that time we met. I never told you how I felt in person and its been knowing away at me like a chancre. When I see you with guys in your pictures, my heart hurts, I don’t know what to do. Am I supposed to un-Facebook you, un-friend you? Of course not, how would that look?
“Don’t say anymore, Cahil, you don’t need to say anymore,” Heather said with a laugh. “This is amazing, AMAZING, how life works …”
“What?” asked Cahil.
“Well … I haven’t forgotten you either. Every time I see images of New York City, or movies shot in Manhattan, my heart longs for you. I always thought that I would never see you again and that the brief time we shared together would be a just a pleasant memory.”
Cahil’s eyes had begun to tear as well. “Can I hug you, Heather?” Cahil felt her ample breasts press against him. “It’s so wonderful holding you close like this.”
Heather removed a tear from her cheek and nodded enthusiastically. “I think I love you Cahil, I really think I love you.”

The cell phone had a message on it. Cahil stared at the lavender basket in front of him. How could he have missed a phone call, not possible. As far as he could tell, the reception was just fine. It was Heather:
“Hey Cahil, I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to make it, something just came up at the last minute and I have to take my nephew somewhere. How long are you in town for? Let me know – it would be great to catch up. Hope you’re well. Later.”
Cahil stared blankly at the empty seat in front of him, a seat made warm by Heather the last time they had a cup of coffee together. It would remain cold. Cahil drained the last of his coffee and walked out of the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf – leaving the lavender basket behind him.


The Brenda Burgundy interview went well enough, all except for the burn marks left in Cahil’s flesh. Brenda took great, sadistic pleasure in putting cigarettes out on Cahil’s exposed skin. And when he returned to his palatial New York City apartment, a three bedroom bought solely by his wife Janeen, Cahil couldn’t help but think that he deserved the burn marks and much, much more. Having failed in his attempted debauchery of nailing three girls from his “bookstore job” past, Cahil had nothing more to come home to than a devoted wife, who – not only draped a welcome banner across the apartment door, but had cooked his favorite dinner and purchased the scented candles he so thoroughly enjoyed from Bed, Bath and Beyond. It was more than Cahil deserved and he knew it, as he clutched Janeen in his arms and kissed her profusely.
“Let me see your burn marks,” Janeen implored.
“They’re nothing really to look at.” Cahil tossed off.
“We’re going to sue that bitch!” Janeen said as she inspected Cahil’s arms. “Terrible. Terrible. She can’t get away with doing that to my fiancé. I’ll rip her vocal cords out and feed them to her.”
“Now, now …”
“I mean it!”
“I know, I know … say, are we going to look at more reception possibilities tomorrow.”
Janeen softened and smiled as she and Cahil pressed their foreheads together.
“You bet we are, hon.”
“I can’t wait. I love you.”
“I love you to.”
Cahil and Janeen kissed long and warm, embracing each other completely.
Cahil was glad to be back, back to the steel and girders and realness that sustained him, gave him strength and kept his wavering mind focused. The daydreams were dead. For the longest time, the girls and the regrets lived in his fantasies. Now with microscopic precision, they had been dealt a stealth and fatal blow. What was left was what he knew would always, in the end, endure.

Bedbugs LXXVII

Bedbugs LXXVII


Click here for an explanation of how Bedbugs is created.

Click here for the previous Bedbugs.


Attacking me in order to take the focus off yourselves.
Can't spell God right even with a mile long devotion. Why
spine showing through your shirt should entail a greater risk
than being upfront and truly looking in the goddamn mirror;
her anger's always fear that the same song brought on
again and again; tell nausea every afternoon fighting against
the threat of loss, age, and being like the rest.
Find what you sought tomorrow and collaborate with the
best of them gathered out there in the forest waiting
for the idea that fixes everything. Tell the others
no secret to what I do really, many shouted that
while being condemned. Clarity slowly returns
as does purpose, whether you want it to or not.
Always frightening in a manner of speaking.



Next week's seven phrases/groups of words:


-the pretty one got over him
-sundown sooner than expected
-brighter out west than here
-talkative, I think she's not
-make me wish for it
-seventeen of them waiting in the field
-who is that in the house?

-Adam

The Boxpress Music Time Show with Brian Hughes

Show #20: James Bond Themes

Celebrating the popular theme songs from the classic James Bond films, Brian plays the famous and not so famous tunes associated with the series, and offers some trivia as well.

Play podcast # 20

If you think you might want to listen to some more of my podcasts - please click below:

Show #1: Variations on the classic song "Fly Me To The Moon."

Show #2: "Perfect: Part 1"

Show#3: "Perfect: Part 2"

Show#4: "Last Songs by 5 Great Artists"

Show#5: "Perfect: Part 3"

Show#6: "The Story Songs"

Show#7: "Bob Dylan: Part 1"

Show#8: "Perfect: Part 4"

"New" #1: King Khan and The Shrines/ O'Death

"New" #2: Dr. Dog / Caribou

"New" #3: Ed Harcourt

Show#9: "Death Before Fame"

"New" #4: MGMT/ Cold War Kids

Show#10: "Songs from Woody Allen Films"

Show#11: "ELVIS"

"New" #5: The New Pornographers/Honeyhoney/Counting Crows/Your Vegas

Show#12: JAZZ 101

Show#13: Halloween

Show#14: Bob Dylan: Part 2

"New" #6: Flobots/ Duffy/ Antony and The Johnsons/ TV on the Radio

Show#15: Celebrating Frank Sinatra's Birthday: "Suicidal Sinatra: Part I"

Show#16: Celebrating Frank Sinatra's Birthday: "Suicidal Sinatra: Part II"

Show#17: Celebrating Frank Sinatra's Birthday: "Ecstatically Sinatra: Part I"

Show#18: Celebrating Frank Sinatra's Birthday: "Ecstatically Sinatra: Part II"
Show#19: Springsteen: 2005-2009

Bedbugs LXXVI

Bedbugs LXXVI


Click here for an explanation of how Bedbugs is created.

Click here for the previous Bedbugs.


I'm ready, I think. Greater men have endured far more. How
can we face our fathers with our weakness? My ride should
have been here by now. The bartender whispers at me to
'break me gently' but I probably made that up. Get home,
wake up, painkiller it till you feel like someone who'd
enjoy 9 to 5. Animals don't look like that is a random
opening thought. Where did that come from? I will
find a way to turn the clock back farther than any
man has dared to attempt. If you're crazy, get out of
my way. Only room for one maniac in my head, and he's
been there for 3 decades and a little bit of change.
Noise upstairs constantly doesn't help, real or imagined.
Go for a walk again until the scraping stops or
I'll kill whoever it is. Miss me, I've whispered constantly
to passersby. It will eventually catch with someone.
I finally get the splinter out of my foot, it looks like a
phonograph needle.. My only hope is to talk it over
with someone who cares..


-Next week's seven phrases/groups of words:

-can't spell God right
-spine showing through your shirt
-her anger's always fear
-nausea every afternoon
-find what you sought tomorrow
-no secret to what I do
-frightening in a manner of speaking


-Adam

Bedbugs LXXV

Bedbugs LXXV


Click here for an explanation of how Bedbugs is created.

Click here for the previous Bedbugs.

Corner turned whether I like it or not. Can’t go back and
hear that song again no matter how well you know
all the words. The bar rats are upset too but they’ll
move on to the next glass and burn it out of their
cerebellum. Mute since it started, now what? There was a
path you were on before this fractured. Why make a difference tonight?
Because someone has to. Understand that impression in the side
of the wall didn't come from violence. It was just a mistake, I bet.
Never gave me your note with answers on it like I asked. The
last one was just as fucking stupid. All of us would like to turn
the volume down and maybe rest and try to understand. Will we?
Can't tell, last call is always in an hour. I should escape for
at least one month. Go where I'm the only ghost.
What color I found under it doesn't matter but the
bartender, who I pretend has an eye for me, knows
I need to hear on Earth "there is no scarcity here."


Next chapter's seven phrases/groups of words:


-my ride should have been here by now
-break me gently
-animals don't look like that
-noise upstairs constantly
-go for a walk again until the scraping stops
-miss me
-talk it over with someone who cares


25 chapters left in Bedbugs' second (and probably final) cycle..
-Adam

Bedbugs LXXIV

Bedbugs LXXIV



Click here for an explanation of how Bedbugs is created.

Click here for the previous Bedbugs.


Stop pretending you understand. Outside the seasons are shifting
with each eyeblink and you can't pretend they're laughing with you
when they're obviously trying to leave permanent marks. Heard
gave up Lent for Lent which was all he'd try and focus on while
the chapters count down. What happens at the end? Why do you
need to know now? Trying to manage stalking anyone who will wait
with the persistent friends backstabbing friends because you can't
find your own voice, your own passion, and someone who approves
of it. Never left the house but pretends to know how to run things
and truly live. Life experience, I saw something about that on
television once, she said. And then calls ME afraid.
Metal texture that shines off the back of the wall that's absorbing
rain while we forget how grateful all of us should be, right?
I will pick it up and try to set an example before the record
starts up again and it becomes an 'effort.' Leaving all of us
behind is your best favor. Since nature won this battle.


Next chapter's seven phrases/groups of words:

-mute since it started
-why make a difference tonight
-impression in the side of the wall
-never gave me your note
-rest and try to understand
-what color I found under it
-there is no scarcity here


-Adam