"what we have here is failure to communicate."

it's dawned on me that it's kind of been awhile since there was
anything that seemed important or unimportant enough to write about.
that's maybe not changed, but it seems strange to check back and see
that i can barely remember when i last wrote. it seems even more
strange to think that i'm not thinking of much right now, either.

so i'll return to stealing -- i rented cool hand luke the other day
after not thinking about it more than a handful of times since i last
saw it my senior year of college -- seminar on 60s culture, very
american studiesish, taught by the woman who became my thesis advisor
and was supposed to want to date me. alas, she's now in prague. on a
fellowship, not because i drove her to leave the country.

anyway, i had forgotten how funny, how simple, how smart, and
complicated that movie was. i had forgotten about the part where, out
of sheer boredom, he tells the guys at camp he can eat 50 eggs, and
then does. because why not?

the movie can be and often is, extremely heavy handed, but you somehow
don't seem to mind. there's enough that makes you wish you'd known the
movie better and always did.

what got me was the scene where he learns his mother's died, and the
guys clear out and leave him alone on his bunk with his banjo --
partly out of respect, partly out of not knowing quite what to say to
someone who's been through that - can you ever know what to say, even
if you've experienced it yourself? i think somehow not.

he's left there, the camera comes in and frames a shot it will keep
for the entirety of the song he begins to sing, apropos of nothing
except maybe the absurdity of the situation he finds himself in. it
maybe be just made up by the person who wrote the book/movie, or it
maybe be some traditional song i've never heard before -- the music
is simple, his voice is not great, but it's somehow perfect:

"I don't care if it rains or freezes, as long as I've got my plastic
Jesus, sitting on the dashboard of my car. Comes in colors pink and
pleasant. Glows in the dark 'cause it's iridescent. Take it with you
when you travel far. Get yourself a sweet Madonna, dressed in
rhinestone sitting on a pedestal of abalone shell. Going 90, I ain't
scary, 'cause I got the Virgin Mary, assuring me that I won't go to
hell."

i never understood those things people kept on the dash, but hearing
him then, it made me wonder why more people don't.