August 5, 2025 (Green Parrots, Pat, Diane's House, etc.)

Howdy and how goes your Summer? Are you stretching it out, making it Endless? You can do that with Summer, you know. I had an amazing sunset walk last night, in my old stomping ground of Reseda. I go there once in a while, to maintain The Feeling, and instead of my nightly loop around CSUN, I do my miles in the neighborhood where I used to push Pearl, beginning at Cantara Street School. The school is of course directly north of the short strip of Newcastle Street that we have talked about in recent blogs. Newcastle was home to Pat and Lys and the Watsons (last name slightly changed). And, for a while, it was Lilly's "home away from home", her Reseda home as Lys's close friend.

So I like to walk that neighborhood, but another great reason, espcially in Summer, is the return of the legendary Green Parrots. (hang on a sec, I feel a Shameless Plug coming on...) Pearl and I saw them almost every night in August 2021 in the trees at Cantara St. School. She died just one month later, and I chose our magical experience for the title of our first book, "The Summer of Green Parrots" (available on Lulu and Amazon). On a side note, Pearl is named as a co-writer of that book because she lived the experience with me, not only the Summer of 2021 but through our whole caregiving relationship. So there's your Shameless Plug (in addition to being a great story, the book will make you want to become a caregiver), but in getting back to my walk last night, the Green Parrots were not only back, but they put on a show exactly as described in the book.

It was "magic, Pearl", as I often used to tell her. "Perfection" was another word I used a lot: "That's perfection, Pearl."

You can experience it, too. Just drive over to Cantara St. School, park by the electronic sign in front, start walking west toward Hesperia Street, and look for the parrots in the trees. Heck, you don't even need to look for them; you'll hear 'em before you see 'em. Continue your walk down Hesperia to Lorne, following the chain-link school fence. Newcastle is about fifty yards from the southwest corner of the school. Make sure to count cats on Newcastle. The cats expect you to count them and will be disappointed if you don't. They aren't all out in the open, some of them like to hide, so look behind bushes, under boat covers, beneath cars and on rooftops, and do all of this out of the corner of your eye. Don't make a spectacle of yourself. Our record for counting was 23 cats (!) but the average is much lower, 5 to 7. See what you can do, but go go go. Don't wait until Summer is over. 

Since the last time I wrote, I also went to Warner Center Park to see Surfin', a Beach Boys tribute band. Man, were they great. The park was jam-packed. The Beach Boys invented Endless Summer.

Unfortunately, not all is Summer Sunshine. There are darker subjects in our sphere that we must tackle. We can do this, however, and still have an awesome day because it's good to shine a light on dark things.

Among our recent topics is the subject of the Meissner House. In the last blog, I changed the name and called it the Mossner House (moss being an appropriate metaphor), but screw it. All the Mossners are dead, so let's use their real name: Meissner. Man, they were bad news. Big time evil were the members of that family.

News Flash (this just in!): The 1984 Incident at the Meissner House has been 100% confirmed. We are still working to verify the 1983 Incident, and it appears (from a Confirmed 1988 Pool Party) that Howard Schaller was connected to the Meissner House.

Yes, indeedy. Just when you thought things couldn't get any weirder.

Now, in the last blog I told you about the house where I worked as a caretaker. Right? I'm talking about 2009 and the house on Jamieson Street in Reseda. I alluded to the things that happened to me in that house. I also told you about the demise of Pat Forducci, which was incrediby bizarre and sad - a guy who worked all his life, now broke and living alone in his car in the heat of 100 degree Summer days.

A guy dying of cancer. And not one single person came to see him besides me.

All those so-called "friends" of Pat, who showed up at his memorial service (even the ones who didn't know him), yet not one of those people visited him when he was living in his car for a year.

I didn't have the means to help Pat, but I checked on him in the nearby church parking lot. We watched the 2022 Fourth of July fireworks from the roof of the CSUN parking garage. Pat could barely walk. I tried to get him to apply for Social Security. It wasn't easy because he didn't care anymore.

And now we know that he didn't care because he'd been sacrificed by his cult.

I was very likely the last person who knew Pat to see him alive. I visited him at his new apartment when he finally escaped homelessness. This was in June 2023 (he'd been homeless since May 2022). He was very happy to have his new place to live, arranged for by his social worker, in a beautiful tree-lined Santa Clarita neighborhood. I visited him there twice. At the time, I was giving him rides home from Olive View Medical Center. On my second and final visit to his apartment (which he'd moved into only three weeks earlier), we were watching TV, and he put on a documentary about the Bagwan Shree Rajneesh. Have I told you this before? Even if I have, it bears repeating. I said something like, "Oh yeah...I remember this guy. Didn't he take over a whole town somewhere, in the '80s?" Pat said, "Yeah. It was in Oregon". With that, the story of the Bagwan came back to me. Pat seemed to admire his "accomplishment" of occupying this town. Maybe "admire" is too strong a word, but he was very interested (more interested than I was) in the Bagwan's story. At the end of the documentary, he asked me a question, "Do you think you could ever join a group like that"?

I said, "What, you mean a cult?" It was the first time I had used that word in quite a while. We think of "cults" as relics from the 1970s, Jim Jones and the like. "Not me", I continued. "It's nothing but mind control". I was surprised Pat had even asked me the question, knowing that I'm not a "follower". He mused for a moment, and offered his own take, "I dunno. It might have it's benefits. Your food and shelter are covered. There's women...". I'm paraphrasing, but he was saying "it didn't seem all bad." I said, "Whattaya mean? Everything they do is dictated by one man, the Bagwan Shree Rajneesh. He's a total charlatan. I think he was even sued by the government if I recall correctly." Pat restated his opinion that such a lifestyle might have it's good points. "Not for me", I reiterated.

Pat was of course "trying to tell me something in so many words" that night.

I never saw him again. He died about five days later.

In Fall 2023 and throughout 2024, I recalled things from 2009 and my year as the caretaker of Diane's House. That's going to be the title of my next book:

"Diane's House on Jamieson Street in Reseda". Good title, eh?

One of the things I recalled was that Pat had come to that house. A mindblower, right? Why would Pat come to that house in August 2009? He didn't know Diane or Sue, and I didn't even know his whereabouts at the time, or how to contact him. But yes indeed, dear readers...one day he was there at Diane's house. And that's because he got a call to come there. From who, I don't know. He just said, "They call you, tell you where to go, and you have to show up or they blackmail you." And he came to the house on the day that his fellow cultists tried to "initiate" me. Yes indeedy.

It didn't work, but it wasn't for lack of trying on their part.

They didn't go home after the Judas Priest concert, either.

Thanks for reading, tons of love, back soon.

July 25, 2025 (Ozzy and Interesting Stuff)

Hi folks. What a week, eh? I can't add much to the hundreds of tributes already posted, but here's an Ozzy memory I haven't mentioned. Lillian and I went to see him at Irvine Meadows on June 23, 1982. We'd been together for a little over a year. Her sister Ann got us free tickets through some guy she knew who met us at the venue. In retrospect, he reminds me of a sketchy guy from the '90s named New York Al who lived in my Dad's apartment building. Ann's ticket guy looked just like New York Al. Lilly and I rode down to the show with Ann and her friend Brenda, who - like Ann - was a nurse at Dr. Winn's office. But when we got there, there was trouble with the tickets. New York Al didn't deliver what he promised, which was "up-close seats", and Lilly was upset about this. I recall her being tearful, because she'd been told we'd have those seats, and we ended up sitting further back. I probably said "don't worry, it's okay." And it was okay because I was with my Honey, and it was a good show. What could be better than that? Lilly was 17 and had just graduated high school.

Brad Gillis was Ozzy's guitarist that night. I didn't like him at the time because it looked like he was showing off, shredding and "tapping" and playing a million notes, and I felt it was a lack of respect for Randy Rhoads, who'd died just three months earlier. It didn't help that Gillis had a SoCal surfer boy appearance. Ozzy as Jock Rock. And of course I didn't like Night Ranger, Gillis's band after Ozzy.

A about a year ago, I saw an FB post from Gillis (appearing inexplicably in my feed) in which he mentioned that concert and said it was his first night with Ozzy - the most nervous show he'd ever played. All of us are in our 60s now, heading toward 70, and we can see the person behind the image better than we could when we were young. Gillis now seems like a nice guy. 

That concert was recorded for Ozzy's "Speak of the Devil" live album. Well anyhow, there's no punch line to this memory. It's just fun (and kind of cool) to think back and remember things and certain people, like Brenda, who drove us down to Irvine for that show. I saw her once more, when Lillian took me to Ann's NoHo apartment around 1986 or thereabouts. I had a beard on that occasion, my one and only time. Me to self: "Good  grief, Ad, why?" I can't stand facial hair now. Even eyebrow growth drives me nuts. God Bless Ozzy Osbourne. Here's Ritchie Blackmore's tribute, posted on Facebook the other day: 

"I had the good fortune to meet Ozzy a couple of times. He was a very humble man with no rock and roll attitude. I think he was very grateful to be doing what he loved. He had a melodic, warm and harmonious voice over hard rock tracks and it worked out incredibly well without having to resort to screaming over the music. A wonderful way of singing. The late 80s was my favourite period but that is just my opinion. His home show was my favorite. It reminded me of Faulty Towers. I make it a habit of trying not to smile and laugh very much but Ozzy made me crack up with laughter on his show every time I saw it. It was so honest. I think that's what people loved about him.
Our hearts go out to Ozzys family. Candice and I share your grief. We have lost a brilliant singer, a great musician and a wonderful family man. Rest in peace Ozzy."

Kind words from The Man in Black to The Prince of Darkness.

In other music news, have you heard the new Alice Cooper album, "The Revenge of Alice Cooper"? It's just been released today, but there was a live stream listening party yesterday, and we're talking the original Alice Cooper group, not Alice the solo artist. I listened, and thought it was doggone good. I'll give it a 7/10 rating so far, and it may grow on me with repeat listenings (not on YouTube with crummy sound but from the CD). The group appeared onstage afterward, at a beautiful church in England (minus guitarist Glen Buxton, who died in 1997), and did a Q & A moderated by Tim Rice of Lloyd Webber lyricist fame. Whoever thought we'd get a new album from these guys, 50 years after "Muscle of Love", and that it would be this good? They're all pushing 80! Folks, I've seen close to 1000 concerts, and I've seen Alice solo 8 times, but I've never seen the Alice Cooper Group. A prayer for a tour is is order. Talk about your Bucket List shows...

I'm re-reading "The Tommyknockers" by Stephen King, a book he's called "awful" but which I think is one of his best. It's about a giant UFO buried in the ground in rural New Hampshire, and what happens to the townspeople when a woman and her boyfriend dig it up.

I'm also reading "The First Gentleman" by Bill Clinton and James Patterson. Have you read any of their collaborations? I read the first two: "The President is Missing" (2018) and "The President's Daughter" (2021), and I'm halfway through this new one. All are great stories, total page-turners, and besides that, I read them for clues...(if you get my drift). Some clues are subtle, and you've gotta be on the lookout to spot them, but others are more obvious, such as the name of the President's daughter in the book of that title:

"Lilly" is The President's Daughter.

And in the new book, there's a character named "Lillian" whose name is mentioned repeatedly. There's also a "red Nissan" in the new one. Who had a "red Nissan?" Why, me of course. Now I have a Subaru, which one of the main characters drives. Okay, a Subaru (no specific color), no big deal, right? Okay fine. But a red Nissan? How many of those do you see? Well anyhow, yeah it's fun looking for clues in BC's books.

I hate to be negative, and talk about unpleasant stuff, but I'm working on my own book, about 2009, and it's opened a humongous can of worms that spills backward into 1989, and 1988, and I'm realizing that what I thought (for decades!) was a 12-day event in September 1989, that I called "What Happened in Northridge", actually began in 1983.

Holy smokes, what a thing to discover (though none of it is a reflection on Lillian, just the bad guys, and we know who many of them are).

We've talked about Newcastle Street and we've talked about Lys, but we need to talk about Pat Forducci. Pat worked for almost 50 years of his life, starting at age 13 at College Records. He took a few years off toward the end, say from 2004 to 2010, but he worked at least 40 years, closer to 45, and he only lived to be 63. Therefore, most of  his life was spent working. 

So why did he die broke and almost homeless? He was one month removed from a year of homelessness when he died.

Because he was the victim of a cult, that's why. Now, Pat participated in his victimhood. He was a member of this cult. But he still didn't deserve what happened to him. The cult left him to twist in the wind, because he tried to tell the truth. They blackmailed him and probably harrassed him until he didn't care anymore.

Pat came to the house I was caretaking in 2009. He was there as part of a bizarre Incident, in August 2009, initiated by his cult, in which I was the victim this time. My book is about the things that happened to me in that house, and the other people besides Pat who appeared there. The house had been owned by a woman named Diane, and was transferred to her younger sister Sue when Diane died in May 2009. That's when I unwittingly became the caretaker. The house is in Reseda, not far from the short strip of Newcastle where Pat, Lys and Sean lived, and it's just around the corner and down the block from the Burton Street house where the late Dave Small lived, with his girlfriend Kelly, beginning in 1988.

I have this thing now called my White Oak Walk. It's a Northridge walk that encompasses a long section of White Oak Avenue between Merridy and Rayen Streets (Google Map it). The walk diverts to Shoshone for a block, and sometimes goes down Halstead to Zelzah, but it's mostly on White Oak and takes in many "important landmarks", including the "Mossner" house. I hate to even mention that horrible family's name (and have slightly changed it) because they were profoundly bad people. I'm just coming to learn and understand how bad they were. You could say they were evil personified. I now believe that certain evil Incidents happened at their house in 1983 and 1984. I know for a fact that an evil Incident happened there in May 1988. But here's the weird thing about that house:

Folks, it's been sitting empty and unoccupied since 2002.

It's been empty for twenty three years, since the Mossner patriarch died. Try that one on for size.

We can ask why this is so. Why has the Mossner house been unoccupied for 23 years? Someone cuts the lawn and maintains the shrubbery. But the paint is moldering, and the electric gate is rotting away. The iron mailbox is skewed and hanging by a thread.

We can ask about Mr. B's Flowers, which burned to the ground on July 19, 2019, after going out of business years earlier. Here is a link to that story: 

 https://www.dailynews.com/2019/07/19/heavy-fire-hits-mini-mall-on-corbin-avenue-in-winnetka/

In case the link doesn't work, just Google "2019 Fire at Mr. B's Flowers in Winnetka, Ca."

We can ask why it took 86 firefighters from 20 engine companies to put out the blaze, as reported in the Daily News story. Have you ever heard of 86 firefighters at a structure the size of a house? Have you ever heard of 20 engine companies responding to such a fire? Read the details of that fire. Read about the "known hazards" in the building, such as "holes in the floor".

Yes, we can ask these questions, but we may know some of the answers.

Thanks for reading. Tons of love. Back soon.

July 14, 2025

Howdy folks. I wish you a Happy Bastille Day in the name of Rush. I'm thinking about Dave Cousins, founder and chief songwriter of The Strawbs (or just Strawbs), who died yesterday at the age of 80. Strawbs were another of my earliest discoveries from College Records. Their album "Hero and Heroine", released in Spring 1974, was recommended to me by one of the clerks, probably Pat or Barry the manager. I was immediately hooked; it was classic prog, with a twist of English folk. "Hero" was their most commercially successful album and even had a track played on FM radio ("Shine On Silver Sun"). I played it repeatedly (and still do fifty-one years later), and it led me to earlier Strawbs albums, found in the used bins at College, that I purchased to complete my collection. "Grave New World", "From the Witchwood", "Ghosts": all are highly recommended. On a side note, one of my favorite albums from those days (and all time) was "Six Wives of Henry the 8th" by Rick Wakeman, and while hanging out at College I found out that - before he joined Yes - Wakeman was a member of Strawbs. 

Is it any wonder he's a candidate for the King of Progressive Rock?

But it was Dave Cousins who wrote most of Strawbs' music, and every song featured his distinctive, throaty voice. I never got to see them live (they toured mostly in England) but I have loved their music, and songwriters like Dave Cousins don't grow on trees. Thus, we remember him today. 

Anyway, how goes your Summer? Are you enjoying the long, lovely evenings? I've gotta get back to hiking (haven't been on the trail in a year, omg!), but for now, I've got my walks. As you know, I'm an Inveterate Walker, picked it up from my parents, and I walk five miles every day to maintain my weight (155, ten pounds less than high school).

Now, get ready for a segue.

During my years as Pearl's caregiver, we went on many walks together, at first to rehabilitate her hip. In the beginning they were short - just around her block to build strength, but they continued and got longer, often at parks with her dog Kobi (who became my right hand man). Toward the end of her life, eleven years into my tenure, our walks involved a wheelchair, in which I pushed Pearl around our tract and beyond, into upper Reseda.

If you know Reseda, you know about The Tract (as the Originals called it), an area of residential homes almost a mile square, devoid of boulevards, businesses, and noise. It's just houses and quiet streets between Roscoe and Saticoy and from Lindley to Louise. The core of the tract is tighter than that, and is centered at Meadowlark Park (which consists of three streets: Keswick, Hatton and Lull), but to rein this story in, one of our favorite walks was a wheelchair push up Zelzah to Cantara Street, and past Cantara Elementary School. This walk is at the heart of "The Summer of Green Parrots", our book published earlier this year. Just south of that school is the short strip of Newcastle Street, which in the 1980s was home to the families of Forducci, Villanova, and Watson (last names slightly changed).

Pat, Lys, and Sean. And also Sean's sister, Kelly.

Our segue leads mostly to Lys.

We've mentioned Lys several times recently. She was Lilly's close friend. I always liked Lys, and have noted that in these blogs. I've even called her a "hero", for reasons that will presently go unmentioned. 

Lys was at the Capitol Records Swap Meet on the night Lillian and I were introduced. I think Malia was there, too, and maybe Luann, but Lys is the important one for our discussion.

Pat Forducci knew all of these girls and it was he who introduced me to Lilly. He claimed he knew them (and her) from his job at Moby Disc Records on Ventura Boulevard in Sherman Oaks, not far from the high school they attended.

But what he didn't say was that he lived, at the time, within a stone's throw of Lys's house on Newcastle Street.

I never thought about this until I started walking there with Pearl.  

On a side note, while I worked for Pearl I came to love Reseda maybe even more than Northridge, and on our walks, when we went down Newcastle, I thought of Lilly as "my Reseda girl" because in our early days she spent a lot of time at Lys's house. And, of course, their famous Tennis Match in the Street is still the stuff of legend. If you're gonna have your car blocked while driving down Newcastle, there's no better way for it to happen. One time, they invited me to meet Lys's parents. Her Mom made salsa. Lys's little sister thought I was cute.

But yeah, at the Swap Meet in October 1980, when Pat introduced me to Lilly, he never said anything about living on the same street at Lys. Nor did she mention it, and both of them were standing there with us. I don't think Pat ever mentioned it in all the years after, and it was only in 2020, when I started walking down Newcastle with Pearl, that I started to wonder if their proximity on that street, and Pat's failure to mention it, was more than a coinkydink.

I'm not saying that my introduction to Lillian was pre-planned (and if it was, Pat and Lys get a Gold Medal), but it just seems hard to believe that Pat could "know these chicks from Moby Disc", as he said on the night of the Swap Meet, and not know Lys from across his own street. Anyhow...

After high school, Lys (I think, correct me if I'm wrong) briefly attended UCLA, where she studied psychology. She went on to work for a major airline (not crucial to the topic at hand), but the reason I mention her is because I'm coming to realise she was "there" at many key points in the 1980s.

Without getting specific, Lys was present at noteworthy incidents in my life in 1981, 1983, 1984, 1988, and especially 1989. Lys was present in the lobby at Northridge Hospital on the day I was released from my involuntary, medically-induced, evil amnesia treatment. Lys pushed me around that lobby in a wheelchair. True story.

Now, I've called her a "hero", and I'm not rescinding that. She, and Ann too, bailed me out of more than one horrendous situation. However, neither has sent me so much as a postcard since. Both just kind of "exited Stage Left". Ann was "Navy", which is Ad Slang for "she had some kind of unofficial affiliation". Lys may have been "Navy" also; she sure was connected to something or someone to get into the places she did, especially that hospital lobby, on that day at that time. I don't begrudge Ann or Lys for not saying "hi" all these years. Maybe they had to sign a non-disclosure agreement or a national security oath or something.

Lys rode along on some of the Clandestine Car Rides in the early '90s, as noted in blogs from last year.

But Lys was also present at some incidents that weren't so "heroic". She had a Sunflower dress that may have been symbolic, and to quote the late Sean Watson, "they call it Free Love but there's nothing 'free' about it". Still, at the end of the day, Lys was (and is) probably a nice lady. Young women can be coerced into unwholesome things. And bad guys can get away with bad things. Just ask P. Diddy.

As for Lys, I'll leave it up to Lillian. If Lilly says Lys is okay, then I agree. And I think Lilly probably does.

Lillian had two purple jumpsuits that were really super cool. One for herself (a cloth one), and one for me (nylon or synthetic fabric). I mean, it wasn't mine, it was hers and she let me wear it (or had me wear it). How I fit into it I will never know. Even at 155 lbs today, I wouldn't get the zipper halfway closed. But back then, in Summer 1981, I did fit into it, we both looked cool, like twins almost, and I always called it a "jumpsuit" (and hers was) but the one I wore, in hindsight, was more like a flightsuit. 

And maybe hers was, too.

It was like we had our own personal Air Force, just me and her, whenever we wore those flightsuits.

Much later, in 2002, I wrote a short story called "Wingwalkers", from my mythical-but-real other life. The story was about my protogenic "child self", a kid called Little Ad, and his wingwalking partner, Vivian.

Vivian was based on Lilly, and perhaps she was Lillian, or once was her, in a mythical-but real other life.

I think Vivian was real. Heck, if all this other stuff is real, this stuff with Lys, and everything else, it's no stretch to believe in Vivian.

Once again, I'll leave it up to Lilly. If she says Vivian is real, I agree.

Thanks for reading. Back soon. Tons of love as always.

Black Sabbath and July 4th

Howdy folks. Did you watch the Black Sabbath concert on Saturday? I didn't stream it, just watched the incoming YouTube vids, but I thought Ozzy sounded great. His voice was better than it has been in decades. He must've trained hard to get it there. I was especially happy to see Bill Ward back, as they'd been playing with a stand-in drummer for the past 20 years. He pounded the skins as if he'd never been away. Its amazing and inspiring when you consider that all the band members are nearing 80 - and considering the past "substance issues" of Ozzy and Bill, and to a lesser-but-substantial extent, Tony Iommi - that all four are still alive. It must be that Birmingham toughness, which gave rise to Black Sabbath in the first place. I first saw the band 51 years ago, at the legendary California Jam (which I've mentioned ad nauseum, I know). I was up against the chain-link fence, as close as you could get to the stage, getting crushed by the quarter-million fans in the crowd. They were the second rock group I'd ever seen live (Black Oak being the first at the same show), and I'll always remember the sheer power of their sound, and the low end that shook your bones.

If you watched their final performance on Saturday, you saw on the faces of the fans how much Black Sabbath has meant to people.

I was (and am) one of them, a fan since I was 12 years old. I was fortunate to see them six times in concert, most recently in 2014. I saw Ozzy several times as well. In January 1983, I got to have lunch with him, courtesy of Jon S., who was interviewing Mr. Osbourne that day. Jon invited me along as the photographer. I still have those pictures, and a tape of the interview.

In May 1983, Lillian and I saw Ozzy at the US Festival - which had an even bigger crowd than California Jam.

Before that, on New Year's Eve 1981, we attended Ozzy's concert at the L.A Memorial Sports Arena. With us were my two then-band members and the late Pat Forducci. Afterwards, we all drove to the Bonaventure Hotel, where the post-show party was happening. How we learned of this I don't remember, but we went. Unfortunately, there was a security guy blocking the doorway. It was my idea to look for a side door, and we found one unattended and unlocked. Yippee! I remember saying, "just act like we belong here". No sooner did we enter than we were talking to Don Airey.

Then we met Randy Rhoads. I still have that picture, too.

We also met Ozzy and Sharon, who had recently become his girlfriend. She looked a lot different in those days.

Wow, what a night! An amazing way to cap off 1981...

Anyhow, I hope you had a nice 4th of July weekend. I went to Shepherd of the Hills Church in Porter Ranch for the fireworks, as always. Before that, I took a walk around CSUN, nice and quiet on a holiday afternoon. I continued south on Etiwanda, down to Rayen, then turned west toward Reseda Boulevard. On the way, at the corner of Rayen and Darby, I passed the "I Love You" house, important as a July 4th honoraria.

Why is it called that, and why is the date important? In part because, on July 4, 1981, it's where I played my first concert. Talk about "Back to the Beginning"...

Now, my band wasn't...(um)...as good as Black Sabbath, but we did play a few Sabbath covers. The important thing was that we had a blast playing them, and we knew this long-haired guy Bill from the nearby Liquor House (located at Rayen and Reseda, where the Northridge Mural now is). Bill invited us to play a backyard party at his pad on the Fourth of July. I mentioned it to Lilly, who had recently become my girlfriend. At the time, she was planning to see Cheap Trick on the 4th. If I recall correctly, they were playing in Bakersfield. But she ended up coming to the party and I was excited because I wasn't expecting her to be there. Lys was there, too, and Pat Forducci, and Jon S, and several other friends and acquaintances. Lilly and Lys mixed and served drinks. Pat got hammered and sang a few songs, swinging the mic like Roger Daltrey. I think I have a Super 8 film of him doing this.

But the best part of the night came when the party was over. Most folks had left. It was probably close to midnight or later. Bill was ushering stragglers out of his house, but Lillian and I were still there. I was sitting in an easy chair by the door. Lilly was on the armrest. At that moment, no one was around, and a feeling arose, prompted by togetherness and the start of a wonderful Summer.

Suddenly, I spoke three words, and Lilly repeated them back.

And that's why it's called "The 'I Love You' House", and why July 4th is a great day. 

Thanks for reading. Back soon. Tons of love as always. 

June 29, 2025 (Movies and other stuff)

Briefly, before we get started, a note on the passing of Dave Parker, aka "The Cobra", who spent time with the Cincinnati Reds, my favorite baseball team. I don't know if we have any fans here at the blog (cause I don't know who reads the doggone thing; I've never had a single comment or acknowledgement in 25 years), but baseball has been my favorite sport (tied with football) since I was five or six years old, when Dad took me to see Sandy Koufax pitch for the Dodgers. Dad lived in Cincy after the war. It's where he met my Mom. He took me to Dodgers/Reds games and said "watch that guy", meaning Pete Rose, who became my favorite player. The Big Red Machine won the World Series in 1975-76 and is considered one of the greatest baseball teams of all-time. Dave Parker played for the Reds from 1984 - 87, after their heyday, but before that, he was with the Pittsburgh Pirates. In 1977, me and my pals used to take the bus to Dodger Stadium. Bleacher seats were three bucks! One time, the Dodgers were playing the Pirates, and big Dave Parker was in right field. Everybody loved The Cobra, even fans of other teams. He could hit the ball out of any park, and had a rocket arm, but most of all, he was a cool guy...easygoing, no superstar ego. On the day we saw him play, we kept trying to get his attention. "Hey Dave! Big Dave! Hey Cobra!" Finally, he was close enough to the outfield wall to hear us. He smiled and gave us a wave.

That made our day. Dave Parker won the MVP award that year. On July 27, he will be inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame. He didn't live to attend the ceremony, but I bet he will be there anyway. All athletes should be as cool as Big Dave Parker.

Okay, now for some movies:

Um...can we start with a list? We usually do Top Tens, and they're always "Best Of", but can we do it in reverse? Something got me thinking about the All-Time Worst Movie Directors. I have a "thing" I've developed in recent years: turning off a movie as soon as it gets bad. I never used to do this. I thought it was impolite: "You chose this movie, Ad, you must stick with it." Of course, any film can have a needless scene, or can drag for a few minutes. When that happens, you've gotta give it a chance to recover. But you sometimes get a vibe, either from the start or a few minutes in, that "this movie sucks" and it's not going to improve. Then you think (or should think), "Why should I spend 90 to 120 minutes watching this when I already know how bad it is?" Life's too short, right? But I used to sit all the way though every movie, no matter how crummy, even when I knew it from the get-go, just because I "felt bad" about rejecting the filmmaker's effort.

But then, about ten years ago, along came a film called "Tideland" by Terry Gilliam. And it was so bad, I just couldn't sit through it. I made it through the first fifteen minutes, but then said "why am I watching this"? And all of a sudden...I wasn't. That's because my thumb had pressed the "stop" button without me realizing it. "Thanks, thumb." It gave me the courage to stop worrying about politeness (and hurting the filmmaker's feelings) and start using the stop button more often. I did it again with "Cosmopolis" by David Cronenberg. That time, I was only three minutes into the film. Geez, you wanna talk a bad movie? Give that one a shot, see if you can last longer than I did.

Anyway, without further ado, let's list our Top Worst Directors (#1 being the champ). I don't know if we can find ten of them, but lets try.

1) Terry Gilliam. "Baron von Munchausen", "Brazil", and the horrid "Tideland" which, on the dvd, sports a disclaimer by Gilliam before the movie starts, where he basically acknowledges that it sucks but asks you to give it a chance anyway. I tried. I couldn't. Do you need any more evidence? I rest my case that he's the worst movie director of all time.

2) 'Twas a close race for second, but I had to go with David Cronenberg. "Crash", "Eastern Promises", "A History of Violence" and (drum roll please)..."Cosmopolis"! I double-dare ya to sit through even the opening scene! Good grief does this guy suck.

3) But I'm tellin' ya, it was really hard not to give the #2 spot to Lars von Trier. Have you ever tried to watch one of his movies? You won't be able to do it. In many ways, he's the worst of the worst, though he doesn't have a "turn it off immediately" flick like the first two lame-o's. Pound-for-pound, however, he's got more ridiculous, stupid and really bad movie moments and just awful movies than maybe even Cronenberg and Gilliam put together. Plus, he's an arrogant a-hole. Go ahead and try to sit through one of his "critically acclaimed masterpieces". I guarantee you won't make it.

4) The guy who directed "The Lobster": Yorgos Lanthimos. He wins for Most Obtuse Director. Watch any of his flicks without going "huh?" and I don't mean in a weird, David Lynch way. I just mean "Huh? Why is this movie so bad? Why am I watching this"? Then hit the stop button and find something else. He won't ever be #1 because his films aren't obnoxious enough, but rock-bottom boring they are.

On a side note, we aren't talking about guys like Uwe Boll or Abel Ferarra, where it's common knowledge that their movies are lousy. We're mostly talking "critics darlings", whose movies are lauded by people with agendas, and hipsters who watch because the movie critics told them to.

5) I wanna put Wes Anderson on this list but I just can't do it because he's a genuinely nice guy who doesn't seem to be deliberately pretentious. It's just that....well, try sitting through "Asteroid City". But I still can't put him on the list. Oh, okay, maybe around #9 or 10. But I'm all out of names to make 10 (unless you can think of some). I just wanted to get these off my chest, and the subject in general, because whenever I think of "Tideland", I cringe. 

I had a great first day of Summer, last Saturday at the Chatsworth Nature Preserve. In addition to the guided hike (with all kinds of info about native plants, trees and critters), I had a blast learning to sing Native American songs with a group watching Martin Espino, a Native American musician and lecturer. Google him, he's awesome. He brings percussion instruments along; I got to play the Big Drum, the Turtle Shell, and the Rattle (it's like maracas). If you ever wanna see what the Valley looked like before development, come out to the Preserve when it's open next year. They only do this one day per year, so don't miss it. It's amazing!

How about a few Tubi movie reviews? I'll keep 'em brief:

"Ted K"(2021), the story of The Unabomber is good as a one-man show. Sharlto Copley plays Ted Kaczynski. Who knew he was so resourceful, or that he got around, travelling to other states by bus, and was a master of disguise? Ted was a bad and violent guy, but I'm not sure he was crazy, and many people agree with his assessment that modern technology has had a deleterious effect on the world. Autistic? Maybe. Sociopathic, for certain. But crazy? No. And, he rejected the insanity defense. Worth a watch for the lead performance.

"Good Kill"(2014) is about the moral question of using drones to kill targets 7000 miles away. Ethan Hawke gives an emotionally repressed performance as the guy working the joystick, but the screenwriter does not confront the fact that collateral damage by warplanes is likely greater than that caused by drone strikes. War is war, folks get killed.

"No Man of God"(2021) is a good one. They have some excellent unknown actors playing serial killers nowdays. Luke Kirby, who plays Ted Bundy, has his mannerisms him down pat, which can be compared to the real Ted's last interview. The problem is that no one can "out-Bundy" Bundy, and if you've never seen that last-ditch "confession" with James Dobson, you should check it out. It shows he was a very good actor himself, and a complete phony-baloney psychopath. 

Two more good "backwoodser" movies: "A Dark Place"(2018) and "A Single Shot"(2013) are both noteworthy for their lead performances, yet both feature some ludicrous plot devices and scenes that would never happen in real life. Still, both are riveting because of the atmosphere and aforementioned lead roles, and are thus the most highly recommended of all these films.  

R.I.P to the great Mick Ralphs, one of my very first guitar heroes, who played with Mott the Hoople, which in turn was one of the first bands I got into when I discovered College Records. Check out his short-but-perfect solo on "Ballad of Mott the Hoople", or his work on the first Bad Company album. In addition, Mott and Ralphs looked cool and were the epitome, along with Bowie, of Glam Rock. They made you want to get a pair of platform shoes!

Finally, having remembered "Heavy Metal" as the first movie Lilly and I saw, I was trying to think of the second one. I had to consult my trusty internet movie-list databases (which have been helpful in many respects), and in browsing the Complete List of Movies Released in 1981, I found it! It was "An American Werewolf in London", which opened on August 21 of that year. We saw it at the MGM Studios main theater, which often previewed films, and we probably saw it a week (or a few days) before the general release, and it was a fun and slightly scary movie (though not full-on horror, which Lillian would not have liked).

But the cool thing was, because it was at MGM, I got to show her through the lab! Lilly got to see where I worked, and I remember leading her through the positive developing room, which was dark. I don't remember if I had my amber safety flashlight. I recall taking her through the corridor between the noisy developing machines, through the double doors and into the lighted "dry end", where the film went into the drying boxes. She was 16, I was 21, and I was proud to show her my workplace and also the MGM theater. I only worked at the studio for a few more months, and the rest is now history, but as the saying goes:

"That's showbiz!" 

Thanks for reading and Tons of Love, as always.   

June 19, 2025 (Movies & Happy Summer)

Howdy folks. I'm afraid I have nothing to report but movies. Everything else is my book, the one I'm working on, and I can't tell ya much about that. So, whattaya think? Can we do a bunch of flicks? Okay, good, but before we do, here's some exciting movie-related news:

The legendary Reseda Theater will soon be back (well, sort of). A development project is finally in the works. Read about it here: 

https://www.azuredevelopmentco.com/reseda-theater.html?fbclid=IwY2xjawK-liJleHRuA2FlbQIxMABicmlkETFQTUdpd216cEk2QWVmWlVFAR4Gbn_Syup4RhpHZ9OiWinpuYT7AUDToBQWI0wKMkWuVG2lgLo9VuKevDfG8w_aem_DpfbepB4yJv5WbN6pnviPQ

Now, before we count our chickens, it must be noted that several other RT developments have been announced over the years and fallen through. This one, however, seems to have been approved and is already in the works, so, even though it won't be a full restoration of the original, single screen theater (without all the added shops and bistros), it's better than letting it sit idle as it has for the past 37 years. The best part is that they're gonna preserve the facade and marquee. Long live the Reseda Theater, my very first Movie Home.

Okay, now on to our reviews. Our first film is "Emperor"(2012), about the aftermath of the Pacific war and Hirohito's fate after his surrender to General MacArthur. Matthew Fox stars as the real life "Gen. Bonner Fellers", an assistant to MacArthur, who must find evidence that Hirohito ordered the attack on Pearl Harbor. Fox gives an outstanding performance; the ads showed Tommy Lee Jones' picture as MacArthur, but its Fox's film from start to finish. I don't know why he isn't a major star. Most of the cast is made up of Japanese actors who do a good job of capturing the warrior mentality and male-dominated culture of Japan at that time. Hirohito was seen, literally, as God to the Japanese people, and this is only 15 years before I was born. Talk about political mind control. Now then, we all know who Hitler was, but have you ever heard of Tojo? He was the true evil dictator of Japan who, along with his militarist generals, really ran the show above Emperor Hirohito, a passive man. Read the two thousand year history of feudal Japan, which was closed off from the world until Admiral Perry "opened it up" in 1853 (only 100 years before rock n' roll came into being). The movie shows how the war put a final end to all of that sequestration, and how the greatest horror the modern world has ever seen (WW2) brought about the greatest positive change in culture for Japan, and allied prosperity for our two nations. A love story holds the movie together and brings tears. "Emperor" is a great film that will stand the test of time. Tommy Lee Jones is excellent as aways in his supporting role as the Supreme Commander.

We also have "Kandahar,"(2023), a top-notch action thriller with Gerard Butler of "300" fame. He's in some really bad movies and a few good ones. This is of the latter, a captivating action flick shot in Saudi Arabia, which isn't all sand dunes and looks here like a godforsaken netherworld. You know how the Alabama Hills or the Utah Desert are ancient but majestic? This location looks like God destroyed it. It's supposed to be Afghanistan, and I thought it was until I read the movie's IMDB page, but man you wouldn't wanna live there. No wonder it's a source of continual strife. Butler is like Liam Neeson. He's great at portraying the existential stoic hero, caring only to do his job and survive. Neeson and Butler are too old to do the machismo schtick, which makes them appear even stronger - age and experience outweighs youthful muscle and braggadocio. The old guys have been there done that, and don't give a Flying You-Know-What. Butler plays a CIA asset working covertly in Iran to blow up their nuclear production plants. Strange how art mirrors and predicts real life, eh? He succeeds in blasting their nuke factory to smithereens, but then is identified. Now he must escape not only the Taliban and Isis, but also a relentless Pakistani ISI agent who wants to capture and sell him to the highest bidder. He has an interpreter along for the ride who just wants to get home to his family but has gotten more than he bargained for. The movie's message is that ordinary citizens just want peace and stability no matter what country they come from, but are unfortunately dominated by a-holes using the guise of a religion they don't even believe in. As these kinds of flicks go, it's very well done and doesn't lag for a second, even at two hours running time.

 Next up, a solid crime flick. "The Texas Killing Fields"(2011) boasts a strong cast: Sam Worthington, Jessica Chastain, and Jeffery Dean Morgan as detectives searching for a bayou serial killer. Morgan is downright sympathetic as an altruistic, devoutly religious, transplanted New Yorker. He shows himself to be a talented actor not limited to psycho roles, and makes you wonder why he chose to play the most reprehensible character in the history of movies and televison ("Negan" from "The Walking Dead") which unfortunately typecast him. This flick is well paced, with seemingly competent direction by Michael Mann's daughter Ami. I say "seemingly" because you're watching, locked in, and for the first 110 minutes, everything is top notch. There's a great "backwoodser" vibe featuring some creepy Hoot & Holler people including an unrecognisable Sheryl Lee of "Laura Palmer" fame. The plot has you riveted, and even though there's no backstory or character development, it's still a good watch...until the end, which leaves one of the biggest Red Herrings in recent memory. It doesn't ruin the movie, but you wonder "what gives"? Why was this particular person even in the film and why did they spend so much time on him? You can chalk it up to directorial inexperience, or very poor screenwriting/script editing, heck I don't know. But they additionally wasted a good performance by this Red Herring character, who is one of the best recent movie villains. So go figure. Still, it's well worth watching for the atmosphere, and young Chloe Grace Moretz as a vulnerable child.

But the best film of all was "The Professor and the Madman"(2019) starring Mel Gibson and Sean Penn in those roles respectively. If you love words and books as much as I do, this is your movie, about the creation of the Oxford English Dictionary. We like to talk about time here at the blog, and how the past, in many historical instances, is not as far back as it seems. Dig it: the creation of the Oxford English Dictionary was begun in 1879, only six years before my grandmother was born, and only 81 years before myself. Using 2025 as a reference, it would've been created in 1944, not a "distant past" at all. But imagine a time without dictionaries! Nowadays, of course, the English language is in a period of steep decline. It's interesting to consider that God gave many living creatures a tongue, but only humans had the impulse to form words. What might have been the very first well-articulated (and not grunted) spoken word? Who spoke it and when? It is also interesting to note that English has become "the international language" and is used as "the language of aviation". Did this happen because England, and then America, were the world's most powerful countries (and forced it down everyone's throats), or because English conveys more nuance than any other language and is relatively easy to learn? Language is a fascinating subject that extends into pasta. Linguine means little tongues. This movie is about the attempt to preserve the English language by literally putting "every word that ever was", per James Murray, into the most comprehensive dictionary ever created. The Oxford now has twenty volumes! The other half of the movie is how this massive effort first attracted then negatively affected a "madman" (Penn, playing a Civil War surgeon) who resides in a London asylum. It's great stuff, featuring (imo) Sean Penn's best performance as the hopelessly insane Dr. William Chester Minor, and a restrained Mel Gibson as Professor James Murray. We need more literate movies like this one. Thanks, Mel and Sean.

Quick Top Ten List! Greatest debut albums of all time: 1) "In the Court of the Crimson King" by King Crimson 2) "The Six Wives of Henry the 8th" by Rick Wakeman 3) the first Van Halen album 4) "Out of the Silent Planet" by King's X 5) the first Rush album 6) the first Black Sabbath 7) Roxy Music's first 8) "Tones" by Eric Johnson 9) "Montrose" by Montrose 10) "Caravan" by Caravan. That's just off the top of my head (and "Crimson King" is the consensus #1 by anyone-and-everyone), but think of all the great bands who didn't have a killer debut: Yes, Genesis, Deep Purple, Alice Cooper, Judas Priest...heck, even The Beatles didn't knock it out of the park until their second album. So, it's less common when a band hits a grand slam the first time out. What are some of your top first albums from your favorite bands?

Another question, in the same vein as "who spoke the first word"? Why did man feel the need (or receive the initiative) to depict life? Why did he make cave paintings? Why did he feel the need to eventually invent photography, and then motion pictures? Why did he create "plays" when he had real life? Why are there stories? I ask because it's interesting...

I've had fun doing Movie Memories, and I was trying to think of the first movie Lilly and I ever saw. Could it have been "Heavy Metal", the animated Ralph Bakshi flick? I think so. It was released in August 1981, just weeks after we became a couple. Lilly wanted to see it because Cheap Trick was on the soundtrack. I think both of us liked the title and it just looked like an awesome movie. We saw it at the Cinerama Dome. To be honest, I don't remember the storyline, but I know Lillian was glad to hear the CT song play. They have no bigger fan in the Universe. The Dio version of Black Sabbath was also on the soundtrack with "Mob Rules". The 80s was of course when heavy metal exploded. Lilly and I were still getting to know each other at this point, and doing a very good job of it. The Summer of 1981 was The Greatest Summer of All Time (in my book, at least). It's funny: back then I would've said I didn't like the music of bands like REO Speedwagon or an artist like Christopher Cross, both of whom had huge radio hits with songs like "Keep On Loving You" and "Arthur's Theme". But - while Van Halen and Rush will always be "more my style" - it is songs like those that necessitate a Kleenex when I think of that time in our lives. It's a Happy Kleenex, mind you. Nostalgia equals timelessness, an endless Steady State...

And that's all I know for today. Thanks for reading, Happy Summer, and Tons of Love as always. 

June 9, 2025

Howdy, folks. Sorry to do this, but I've gotta start with a brief tirade. Newsom and Mayor Bass have got to go. First, there was their non-response during and after the firestorms in January of this year. And now, they are basically supporting these rioters, who are waving Mexican flags while they burn vehicles and throw rocks at passing cars. I'm grateful to President Trump and Secretary Hegseth for Federalizing the National Guard and sending in the Marines. Screw these criminals who riot every time they think thay have an "excuse" (even after basketball championships). And don't get me started on blocking the freeway. Folks, you can take whatever stance you want about the ICE deportations here in Los Angeles, and I'll honor your opinion even if I disagree with it (and you can guess where I stand on illegal immigration). However...and this is one of those Howevers we've seen in the past that are huge and must be drawn out..Howw-wwevv-err: If anyone thinks that blocking freeway traffic is acceptable, you should deport yourself from the Earth. Why do I say that? Because I was a caregiver. What if an ambulance was on the freeway with a patient in critical condition? What if you or I were on the freeway, going to visit a dying relative in the hospital? What if your wife was in labor and your child was about to be born, or your loved one had been shot and was dying...and these a-holes, these entitled POS, blocked the freeway and you couldn't get through? And your loved one died before you could get there, or the person in the ambulance died...

You know what? "Hey Newsom", eff you. You are the worst governor this state has ever had. Ditto Bass as Mayor, and that ain't easy to do when you consider Villaraigosa. Thank you, Trump, for standing up for law abiding citizens of all stripes and ethnicities. Shut these bad guys down, and keep them off the freeway and roads by any means neccessary.

More cops, more military, support pop up robots. America will NOT acquiesce to the criminals.

Okay, deep breath. Thanks for restoring order.

On a lighter note, have you guys heard of Helgi and Erlend? They're two Norwegians who do Scandanavian stereotypes on Facebook. They do a few other countries, too. I think they're hilarious and you've gotta check 'em out. Just put them in the FB search window, and watch their reels and shorts for best results.

We've got a coyote roaming my neighborhood. I've run into him two nights in a row and it's almost uncanny. The first time was on Saturday evening, during my Ralph's walk up to Chatsworth & Lindley. When I got to the old Denvonshire Downs lot, I was talking to my sister Vickie on the phone and suddenly there he was, Mr. Coyote, standing 15 feet away from me. I wasn't skeered, because I'm something of a coyote veteran at Aliso Canyon. If they're alone, they aren't gonna bother you (only when you see more than one should you be careful). Anyhow, while on the phone I watched him run around the Dev Downs parking lot. I said to Vickie that "I hope he heads back up into the mountains where he belongs". It worried me that he was close to traffic, which is relentless around here. Well, then last night, I took a detour on my CSUN walk. I never return via Superior Street. That's above my block and out of my way, but tonight there were a whole bunch of people on the sidewalk on Halsted. I didn't wanna weave through them so I kept going, one block out of my way up to Superior. And no sooner did I turn the corner onto Superior from Etiwanda...than there was Mr. Coyote, running through someone's front yard! I kid you not. It's like he's doggin' me (pun intended). He stopped for a second to check me out. I stopped too. I said (quietly) "you go on home, Mr. Coyote. You could get hurt down here". And he could hurt or kill someone's dog or cat, too. Hopefully, he'll find his way back, or animal control will pick him up. I hope it's the first option because Animal Control might put him down. Anyway, that's something, eh? Having a coyote just "pop up" two nights in a row, at random places...  

I went to the Academy Museum last week, with Vickie for her birthday. Have you been there? It's pretty awesome, and highly recommended for anyone with even a passing interest in the history of movies. For film buffs, it's a must-see. They have tons of Hollywood memorabilia & historic and technical presentations. It's located in the old May Company building next to LACMA and La Brea Tar Pits, and across the schtreet from the Petersen Auto Museum. You could even go and make a big-time "Museum Day" out of it. Hot tip: don't pay the 21 dollar parking fee (ouch!) in the LACMA garage; instead, turn right on Fairfax (off Wilshire), go up two blocks to Maryland, turn left and find free schtreet parking in a Lynchian residential neighborhood, very nice indeed. Tickets for the Academy are 25 bucks, or 19 for seniors like me. 

A couple of Tubi movies: "Man on the Prowl"(1957), an ultra-low budget psycho/thriller notable for its excellent performances. The great James Best plays a nut who romances then kills women when they reject him. He's just been let out of Camarillo and is living with his Mom. He knows cars, and has a job at a high-end dealership called Yeakel Cadillac (now Casa de Cadillac on Ventura near Moby Disc). He murdalizes one date at the beginning of the movie, then almost runs down pretty suburban Mom Mala Powers the next day while returning an Eldorado to a rich blonde bimbo. The movie has an inventive script that may have influenced "realist" filmmakers like Scorsese and Tarantino, and Best's portrayal of an extremely twisted character gives you the creeps. He was never a star, but you know him from a million things: for most it would be "Dukes of Hazzard", for me it was the cold-blooded leader of a redneck cowboy gang who put William Devane's hand in the garbage disposal in the all-time revenge film "Rolling Thunder"(1977). It was Best who uttered the movie's immortal line. After Devane's hand gets turned into ground round, his wife says: "My God, Charlie! Why didn't you just tell him where the money was?!" Best interjects, and says: "I'll tell you why lady...because your husband is one macho mo****rf**ker." I don't have to tell you that, at 17, that line hit my friends and I like a ton of bricks and we used it for a long time as a meme. James Best was the kind of actor who you never forgot in a role. He had a distinctive voice, for one thing, a high Texas twang. He did have one starring performance in "The Killer Shrews" (a 1959 b-movie classic with dogs dressed up as giant shrews), and that too was indelible. I say the more James Best, the better. According to IMDB, only one print exists of "Man on the Prowl". It was found in 2015; Alpha Video bought the rights. A high recommendation for this rarity.

We also have "Black Robe"(1991), which you may have seen or at least heard of. I saw it at the Peppertree when it was first released. Last night was my second view. Simply put, it's one of the greatest historical movies ever made, in my opinion. Briefly (if you are unfamiliar with the story): In 1634, from Quebec in what is called New France (before Canada was a country, and no one knows - even today - if it's a real country), a Jesuit priest (Lothaire Bluteau) sets out into the untamed wilderness, heading for Huron territory. He is sent by "Champlain," the French governor of the colony, to Christianize the Indians, and thus make them more peaceful and compatable. A handsome young colonist (Aden Young) accompanies the Father, wanting, like him, to "serve God". But he falls in love (and in lust) with a beautiful Algonquin girl (Sandrine Holt), causing an already tenuous relationship with their Chief to get worse. The Algonquins don't trust "the Black Robe" as they call Father Paul LaForge (Bluteau). The superstitious braves think he's a demon because he can "write words" and play the flute. To them, he's bad magic. But the Algonquins are downright moderate compared to the Iroquois, who are bloodthirsty and practice a form of voodoo. The situation worsens at every stop along the way. Winter comes, and with it sickness. The small group is continuously reduced. When they finally reach the Huron mission, only Father LaForge is left. That's all I'll reveal, and again, you've probably seen it. If you haven't, watch it asap. The stunning color photography alone is worth the effort, but it's also a gripping story of different forms of faith. Looked at from a Christian perspective, you could almost say that the Indians (some tribes) were stuck in the type of "eye for an eye" violence found in The Old Testament, whereas Father LaForge "turns the other cheek" at every injury they inflict upon him. 10/10 for "Black Robe", which was directed by Bruce Beresford (of "Driving Miss Daisy" fame). It came out around the same time as "Dances With Wolves" and "Last of the Mohicans" and I think it's the best of the bunch.

I had so much fun writing and thinking about "One From the Heart" that it reminded me of another great Movie Memory. Do you remember "Legend" starring Tom Cruise? Lillian and I saw it at the GNC Theater in April 1986, close to my birthday if I remember correctly. The GNC was in the Northridge Mall, and something about the way it was "tucked into a corner" (near Bullocks) and its '80s decor made it a favorite theater of mine for many years. So it was already a great movie date. But the film itself, like "One From the Heart", also had a "personal" connection for me and Lilly. Cruise plays "Jack", a forest dweller who fights The Lord of Darkness (basically, the devil) to save the last unicorn in existence. And in doing so, he saves Mia Sara, who plays "Princess Lily"! I loved "Legend" and I think Lillian did too, and on the way out, she said that someone told her she "looked like Mia Sara". I may have said, "No, she looks like you."

It's another of my favorite movies. 

That's all for now. Thanks for reading and Tons of Love as always.