Sometimes hunting for the right bus in Virginia is like the goddam Hunt For Red October.
It’d be totally worth it if I could meet Pensive Inscrutable Russian Sean Connery. But that doesn’t happen.
Anyway, my checkup today went well.
Doctor: “Everything with you is normal, Mr, Nolan.”
Me: “Honey, you don’t KNOW ME.”
OH MY GOD.
Virginia still has BOB EVANS. There is one right near the barbershop I’m hitting tomorrow. This is a venerable institution that deserves my patronage. I’m not even mad anymore about how the Fredericksburg store worked my fingers to the bone when I was 20. And I rocked that black and burgundy uniform in my long ago trim and strapping days.
Tomorrow I will enjoy biscuits, gravy, sweet coffee, and easy conversation at the breakfast counter with temperate Southern souls.
I will address the counter lady as “Ma’am,” and she will call me “Boy.” Because THE SOUTH.
“Smoke a Little Poetry and Get Haiku.”
Whaddya think, Sirs?
Have any of you guys seen last week’s episode of “The Following?” Maybe not, because I suspect I am the only one watching this cool show. (I’ve read that it is “on the bubble,” and Cracked.com has practically campaigned for its cancellation.)
Anyway, if you’ve seen it, Ryan Hardy and co. track a serial killer to a palatial “home” in “Purchase, NY.”
I was there. I worked there for a night. That “home” is actually a period mansion that is rented out for high-brow catered events. (I’ve forgotten its name.) It’s in Nassau County, not Purchase. When I was working for a hospital in NY as a grant writer in my 20’s, office staff also doubled as volunteers for fundraising events; we held a big one right there. Ryan Hardy goes stalking through the same cobblestone driveway where I took my cigarette breaks. Six degrees of Kevin Bacon indeed.
It was a fun night. There was a special room that was restricted — VIP access only, I guess. Only donors and board members were supposed be in the semi-private parlor. I wandered in quite accidentally, and people just reacted as though I were an (extremely young) donor. So I just pulled a Frank Abagnale, Jr. and ran with it. Someone handed me a brandy and a nice cigar, and I just reclined on an immensely comfortable brown leather chair. (When in Rome.) It was weird seeing other employees and administrators being gently kept behind the velvet ropes. I kept smiling and raising a glass to them as they passed. One vice president was visibly confused at my inclusion there.
So the moral of the story is that if you adopt false pretenses, you get a fancy cigar. Or something. I dunno.
I’m honored today that Aphelion Webzine has published my poem, “The Minotaur,” in its April issue. Because this terrific publication of science fiction and fantasy is free, you can read it right here:
http://www.aphelion-webzine.com/poetry/2015/04/Minotaur.html
Aphelion is a great and creative source of free fiction, poetry and features for those who like to read or write about other worlds. It’s pure fun. Be sure to check it out.
Thank you, Aphelion Webzine!
I got some very nice news today — Iain Muir at Aphelion Magazine told me that the online publication would feature “The Minotaur” in its April issue. I wrote this poem as a tribute to W. H. Auden.
Aphelion is a terrific webzine of science fiction and fantasy, with features, stories and poetry. It’s pure fun, and it’s 100 percent free. Check it out here:
http://www.aphelion-webzine.com/index.html
When my poem appears in April, I’ll post a link.
Thanks, Aphelion!
… and whenever she talks about it, it reminds me of my own black cat of many years ago in New York. His name was Jefferson. Named for Thomas, not George.
Another friend tells me he was a “Russian Blue.” (Because Russians are colorblind.)
You can tell these are old photos because the note on the door reminds you, “Lost! Tonight!” (There is also a campaign sign for my nearly successful Supreme Court run in the early 2000’s.)
“March Midnight Window,” by Eric Robert Nolan
Cold glass.
One white palm against
A March midnight window.
The hour is struck.
In blackness an indistinct
Day is made another.
Clouds seclude the moon.
To those outside,
The lithe, pale “L” of my hand may be
An alabaster letter,
A sign to other sleepless.
Each, in eisegesis,
Divines its meaning in
Their own midnight hearts —
Whether love or loss I do not know.
(c) 2015 Eric Robert Nolan
[THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE FILM.] Okay, now — this was actually a pretty good movie; I’d give it an 8 out of 10.
And that says a lot coming from me — I gave only a lukewarm response to “Captain America: The First Avenger,” because I thought that film was an overly safe family film that had no depth or suspense, and some awkward fight scenes. I’ve also opined that Captain America is one of the flatter characters on The Avengers’ lineup. And he’s got a simplistic character concept, even by comic book standards (super-soldier serum, anyone?).
But “Winter Soldier” does improve greatly on some various weaknesses of the origin story. The action scenes (my favorite is the highway fight) are very, very good, with well choreographed brawls and suspenseful shootouts that aren’t too hard for the viewer to follow. And the space opera-level climax will definitely give action junkies their money’s worth.
Chris Evans actually is a really good actor, in my estimation. He seems to do a far better job here than in the other Marvel films, and the script gives Cap a depth that lets Evans show a nice range. (And dammit if he doesn’t look the part.) He’s a charismatic lead that lets you more easily buy into the character. And … Robert Redford in a comic book movie?! That’s something I never saw coming. But what a great actor.
My quibbles? There were a couple. (BEWARE – SPOILERS AHEAD.)
1) Cap meets his best friend and (literal) wingman, the superhero Falcon, on a chance encounter after a run around Washington’s Mall? DEUS EX EXERCISE.
2) Winter Soldier is nice and intimidating with his bandit-like costume and metal (vibranium?) arm, and it’s a little unnerving when Captain America’s ostensible equal comes crashing into the scene. But when his mask comes off and he utters one of his few lines of dialogue, he looks and sounds like a slightly dull, soft spoken, 16-year-old boy. He’s utterly nonthreatening.
3) I’ve always been hard to please when it comes to conspiracy storylines. The larger the conspiracy, the less plausible — I refuse to believe that huge numbers of people can keep a secret so big. S.H.I.E.L.D. is an utterly incompetent spy agency if it allowed Hydra to flourish as it did within its upper echelons. Besides, Hydra is made up of weirdo fanatics — nuts like that would have a hard time blending in to a mainstream community.
4) S.H.I.E.L.D. was more fun when it was made up only of good guys. I never watched the TV show, but I rooted for them in the films. It was America’s everyman response to a world of super-beings, and it was sort of the committed underdog.
5) Again, we are never quite sure what Cap’s powers are. He can withstand 15-story falls with no major injury, but apparently isn’t bulletproof.
6) Why on Earth does nobody call The Avengers for help?
But don’t let those minor irks prevent you from checking out this movie. It’s pretty decent.
Comic Book Nerd Trivia — Winter Soldier looks a heck of a lot like an anti-hero named “Nomad” in the mid-1990’s. He teamed up with Daredevil when he went to Las Vegas in the “Dead Man’s Hand” storyline. It’s probably the same character; I am just too lazy to look it up right now.
Well … maybe not, as I am not even certain he’d been born yet when I was in college. But I did a fine job of channeling Christopher Plummer. I was into Sherlock Holmes about 20 years before it was cool.
I believe all that coolness rubbed off from a double-dose of Nate. Pictured here are Nate “The Amazing Nate” Leslie and Nate “The Great Nate” Wade. Nate L. is now a critically acclaimed author and a professor at Northern Virginia Community College. Nate W. is now a public defender in Pima County, Arizona.
In place of hair, I wore a Tribble from the original “Star Trek” series, as was popular at the time.
No one can forget the time when Carroll O’Connor (aka Archie Bunker) stopped by to prepare barbecue for us …
Finally, no Mary Washington College post would be complete without a shot of the legendary Len Ornstein (far left).
Or the mythic James A. Cordone.
Eric Robert Nolan, Author 