The Hiking Writer

If you happen to peek in on my little blog world from time to time, you might already know that I'm a huge fan of the Showtime TV series Dexter.

Dexter is a really well written macabre series about a serial killer working as a blood splatter specialist for the Miami-Dade police department. And since it was so well written, I decided to give the source material a try. The first season of the series Dexter spans 2 novels by Jeff Lindsay. The first one, which I just finished is called Darkly Dreaming Dexter.

SPOILER ALERT: If you don't want to know about what happens in the book climax, stop reading now

Darkly Dreaming Dexter only spans portions of the first season of the series, and in fact, the end of the novel was a wee bit dissatisfying. In one of the rarest things I can imagine, I actually like the way the series flows as opposed to the opening novel (the story continues in a second novel called Dearly Devoted Dexter which continues some of the storylines from the series).

The climax of Darkly Dreaming ends in what I thought was a somewhat ham-handed fashion, with Dexter's half sister Deb duct-taped down to a table in a refrigerated shipping box where Dexter's real and lost brother witnessed their mother's execution at the hands of drug lords. Dex's brother is also the notorius Ice Truck Killer from the series, but he is jammed into the last few pages of Darkly Dreaming and he or Dexter ends up killing the manipulative Lt. LaGuerta, a character that is still alive in the series.

As implausible as it sounds, Deb ignores Dexter's almost confession to serial killing in the shipping box and his brother escapes and is at large in end before the beginning of the next novel.

The verdict for me is still out, but the writing is tight and moves you right along with Dexter narrating his really disturbing life. Deborah is far more endearing in the TV series than she is in the first book, but it still doesn't excuse how Lindsay (the author) almost offed her at Dexter's hands in the end.

My hats off to the series writers on Showtime for their work in combining the two novels into a tight and engaging show based on both a charismatic and disturbing lead character.

I'm sure I'll be done with Dearly Devoted Dexter by next weekend. The new series season begins in September, when a new novel is also due out.

If I were to give it the Joe Bob Briggs treatment it would go something like "Decent book and easy read for only 288 pages. 6 dismemberings, 1 and a half breasts, check it out".

My mom had some cancerous skin cells removed from her scalp today (they weren't life threatening) and needed a skin graph to cover the spot. The good news is, they got all of  it. At 87 though, I worry all the time. I could use any good thoughts for her speedy recovery.

My sisters and I thank you.

It was with great joy that I read an article today on CNN about the return of my favorite pop band in the world Crowded House. They have a new tour and a new album of original songs called "Time on Earth". I'll be purchasing the CD this weekend for sure and I'll try to give you my impressions here as soon as possible.

In celebration, I present the new single from the new album, Don't Stop Now.

The Amazon is the worlds largest (not longest) river.

It carries more water than the other top 10 rivers COMBINED (NIle, Yangtze, Mississippi, Yenisei, Ob, Yellow, Amur, Congo, Lena).

I love the Planet Earth series. 

I know there are a lot of people that have extreme opinions about Billy Joel.

One of my personal heroes, Anthony Bourdain (Kitchen Confidential, The Nasty Bits, A Cook's Tour, No Reservations) truly hates him. And for that, I can certainly forgive him.

Say what you will about Billy Joel, but he's paid his dues and deserves a little respect. Pop music is a tough genre and though Billy Joel has been all over the spectrum musically, pop is his best oeuvre.

The Stranger is the greatest pop album of the late 70s, competing with the growing popularity of punk rock.

Say what you will about his abilities, but Billy could write a great song.

I submit to you my favorite Billy Joel lyrics, from the Turnstiles album, Summer Highland Falls.

They say that these are not the best of times
But they're the only times I've ever known
And I believe there is a time for meditation
In cathedrals of our own

Now, I have seen that sad surrender in my lover's eyes
And I can only stand apart and sympathize
For we are always what our situations hand us
It's either sadness or euphoria

So we'll argue and we'll compromise
And realize that nothing's ever changed
For all our mutual experience,
Our separate conclusions are the same

Now we are forced to recognize our inhumanity
Our reason coexists with our insanity
And though we choose between reality and madness
It's either sadness or euphoria

How thoughtlessly we dissipate our energies
Perhaps we don't fulfill each others fantasies
And as we stand upon the ledges of our lives,
With our respective similarities
It's either sadness of euphoria

Well, my sister came into town last night and we decided to celebrate my Mom's 87th birthday with all three of us together. I had suggested a lunch at West Baden/French Lick Indiana and after a little cajoling, Mom decided she liked the idea.

It was a ridiculously beautiful day for July in the Ohio Valley, low humidity, a cool Northerly breeze and temperatures barely hitting 80.

West Baden Springs only opened as a fully operational (and fully restored) resort hotel in May of this year. The site dates back to the late 19th century and has a rich history that includes ties to the early Chicago mafia. If you're interested in a little of the hotel's history, click here.

I took a lot of pictures today in the hotel gardens as well as inside the hotel atrium. I hope you enjoy the new album called West Baden.

I need to admit up front, I haven't read any of the books.

Yes, I know, I'm a writer and I've resisted participating in the biggest smash series in the HISTORY of fiction.

Rest assured, I WILL read all of them. 

Eventually.

I've enjoyed all of the movies (haven't seen the latest) but I have to tip my oh-so-unworthy-cap to JK Rowling as an author. All other authors of stature need to bow down to this storyline in terms of effect on society. Not since Star Wars has their been a series that had a greater impact. In fact, I would submit that outside of Tolkien, Rowling's Harry Potter series  is the most influential fantasy series of all time. And before it is said and done, it will probably outstrip JRR Tolkien for the record in sales.

I hope the latest resolves the series well, regardless of the outcome. 

It's almost mundane.

No matter what the movie or TV show, if there is an outdoor shot involving a street or cars, the roads will always be wet.

NEVER DRY. 

It is a Hollywood contrivance. Better looking on screen to have reflections from the pavement from streetlights, or headlights or anything else. And yet, despite the appearance of a recent downpour, the sky will usually be sunny and blue, or starry and cloudless. So many sudden thunderstorms, so little time for reality. It is fun to notice sometimes. Give it a try.

Holy mackerel!

What an incredible turd in the punchbowl movie. I'm just amazed. Get a decent writer and that thing makes 200 million.

Hollywood really has a dearth of writing talent these days.

Uma, babe, try to likeable. At least a little. 

Joe Bob Briggs?

Does anyone remember him? He was a slasher movie critic and a TV movie host that was downright hilarious. He'd rate movies on how much gore and gratuitous nudity they had, the more the better of course.

From Wikipedia: "Joe Bob's persona is that of an unapologetic and unreformed redneck and male chauvinist with an avowed love of the drive-in theatre. He specializes in humorous but appreciative reviews of b-movies and cult films, which he calls drive-in movies (as distinguished from "indoor bullstuff"). In addition to his usual parody of urbane, high-brow movie criticism, his columns characteristically include colorful tales of women-troubles and high-spirited brushes with the law, tales which inevitably conclude with his rush to catch a movie at a local drive-in, usually with female companionship. The reviews typically end with a brief rating of the "high points" of the movie in question, including the types of action (represented by nouns naming objects used in fight scenes suffixed with -fu), the number of bodies, number of female breasts bared, and, for gory movies, a "vomit meter". A typical such concluding paragraph would be, "No dead bodies. One hundred seventeen breasts. Multiple aardvarking. Lap dancing. Cage dancing. Convenience-store dancing. Blindfold aardvarking. Blind-MAN aardvarking. Lesbo Fu. Pool cue-fu. Drive-In Academy Award nominations for Tane McClure. Joe Bob says check it out."

Funny stuff.

How about the classic comedy series from HBO Dream On? One of the best and funniest of the 90s.