Wynton Marsalis

Brooke and I saw Wynton Marsalis and the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra last night. I’m not a big jazz fan, but I’m glad Brooke impulsively ordered the tickets. I enjoyed the show a lot, but as always, found the jazz musician’s habit of sitting around looking bored waiting for his next solo annoying. The only performer who really seemed into things for the entire show, apart from Marsalis, was the drummer, Herlin Riley, who was excellent. When he finally soloed in the second to last piece, there was a collective whoop from the audience.

Sensitive Masculinity

“There’s something so wounding about growing up a boy, especially a broken-hearted sensitive boy stuck in a tough-guy demographic with no fine words for his finer feelings.”

Caterina, eloquent as ever, explores sensitive masculinity. How did I make it through adolescence and young manhood with my sensitivity intact? I wrote lots of poetry, most bad, some good. I saw a lot of serious films and read a lot of serious books, and talked seriously with my closest friends about them. I made a lot of girl friends (usually with the objective of removing that space between the words) who were able to help me hone my listening skills. And I kept a journal. Essential survival tactics. One has to train oneself to articulate feelings or else those feelings stop coming.

Unbreakable

I watched the DVD of Unbreakable last night. I thought it was pretty cool, except for the hastily tied up ending. Surely they could have left it a bit more ambiguous, couldn’t they? M. Night Shyamalan (whom everyone calls “Night” in the documentary. Cool.) seems like a great guy, but I’d suggest for his next movie, he casts someone other than Bruce Willis, gets rid of the kids, and remains twist-free. Maybe he could direct the next Adam Sandler flick? Nah, Paul Thomas Anderson is already doing that. By the way, I’m rating all my films over at IMDB now. I’d give Unbreakable an “8” even despite its weak ending, and the DVD is really nicely put together.