Steak & Bourbon

Well, thanks to the Church of Klugman for wishing me tons of steak & bourbon, but my question - why? (Other than they're big in Canada)

Anyway, in between sending off resumes and phone contacts, I've been catching up on my reading and DVD watching. Have to definitely agree with Logan on Shawshank Redemption - this movie found its way into my bitter, hurt, tired heart and spread a small ray of hope. This is one of those over-two-hour movies that needs to be so long - if you've never seen this, you're missing something special.

Of course, what didn't help was reading Ten Little New Yorkers by Kinky Friedman. No, it's not a bad book - it's actually pretty good - but it has a funereal, moody atmosphere. When I read the Kinkster, I'm used to his gravelly, Texas-style humor, and newbies are advised to start from the beginning and work their way up. For those who already dig the Kinkstah, I don't need to recommend this book - you've already read it or have it on your "to read" list. Recommended.

Also, I love Robert B. Parker's Spenser series, and Cold Case might be a minor entry, but it's got the goods. (For some reason, I can't get into Parker's other characters, but that's just me).
Worth your time.

In the "Ya Gotta Read This" category is Room Full of Mirrors, a biography of Jimi Hendrix. I knew the basic story of Hendrix's life, and this may not be the greatest Hendrix biography ever made, but it is a great solid read. (Especially at the end, which discusses some of the mystery behind Hendrix's death). It also smashes some myths (for example, the circumstances surrounding Hendrix quitting as opening act for the Monkees). At the very least, check it out of your local library. The best thing I can say about this book is that it is encouraging me to listen to Hendrix's music.

Finally, I really wanted to like Jay Mohr's Gasping for Airtime - a behind the scenes look at Saturday Night Live, especially during the Farley/Hartman/Sandler years. This book should have been an easy-to-like "expose". However, Mohr's writing style is a little awkward, the sense of entitlement (about instant stardom vs. being a "featured player") creates an awkward distance, and the anecdotes are only slightly interesting. (Apparently, Chris Farley would do anything for a laugh, David Spade only wanted to meet supermodels, and Rob Schneider was a "jerk", for lack of a better word - who knew?) There are one or two really strong passages (involving panic attacks and Phil Hartman's final SNL episode), but this book just doesn't satisfy.