Results tagged “cult classics” from Overlooked

The bass pounds away all inhibition. Sweating dancers moving to the same heartbeat. A massive social display plays out, the subtle intricacies of courtship and communication like an infinite puzzle.

She danced up on me. I noticed her jeans. I placed my hands on her hips and felt them sway under the smooth yet durable fabric. My fingers played along the solidly stitched belt loops, tugging at them playfully, testing them. The back pockets fit her more than ample form immaculately, yet had room to spare even with my hands in them. I teased out of her back pockets and around to the button-fly, I could feel her grinning against my neck. I got down on my knees as she writhed against me, like thick heavy oil on deep dark water. I ran my hands along the hem, then up along the double stitched inseam. I caressed the faded denim front of her thighs with my palms. I stood up and pressed my lips against her ear:

"You're ugly as hell but those are some really hot jeans."

♪ Oh, I'm picking out a thermos for you
Not an ordinary thermos for you
But the extra-best thermos I can buy
With vinyl, and stripes, and a cup built right in
I'm picking out a thermos for you
And maybe a barometer too
And what else can I buy, so on me you'll rely
A rear-end thermometer too! ♪

Sincerest apologies to Tiny Tim, but never has a ukulele player looked this good. Steve Martin as Navin R. Johnson in "The Jerk" was the absolute pinnacle of idiot savant hunkitude and remains the romantic icon for all but the most cynical of intellectuals.

Every time I meet a potential suitor, I find myself comparing him to Navin. Would my date defend my honor against a snooty waiter attempting to pass off garden snails as an appetizer? Would he take a stance against the horrible practice of cat juggling? Would he let me throw knives at him in support of my artistic endeavors? The results are inevitably dismal, and I am forced to call things off.

Yes, the world can be a lonely place, but I refuse to lower my standards. So until that day when I find my very own Twinkie-eating, weight-guessing, special-purpose-having, oil-can-saving, Optigrab-inventing, no-rhythm-possessing hunk of man, I guess I'll be picking out my own damn thermos.

Sigh.

You know those annoying friends that always have a camera with them and snap away despite your best protests? That's totally me. Thanks to the digital age, my habit has become something of a problem, given that I no longer have to buy film or wait for it to be developed. On my recent 10-day vacation, I took approximately 500 photos, and had I not been limited by battery power, there surely would have been more. You get the picture (har!!!).

Unfortunately, despite my love for photography, I have never had formal training - I dropped the class in high school because the lens on the family camera would basically come off in my hands. Furthermore, these days, it's far too easy to be lazy and let the machine do all the work: there's virtually no need to learn about apertures or F-stops. Even though I have grandiose visions of myself wielding a high-powered model, there is so much to know, and I am intimidated by artistic and financial failures of epic proportions.

My compromise to myself was this little baby above, the Lomography Diana+, a reproduction of the 1960's cult classic. The medium format (120 film) camera is crafted entirely of plastic and was originally considered as a toy, but its dreamy images and unpredictability quickly made it a favorite among art students. Since it has three different aperture settings, variable shutter speeds, and a pinhole option, it seemed an appropriate way to learn a bit more without breaking the bank.

So far, I can say with complete certainty that it's true love. The learning curve is not steep at all: I took one practice roll before leaving for vacation to get accustomed to the manual shutter, and on the very next shoot, I was able to capture the image at left (like what I did there with the egotism bit?). A lot of the images on the film are vignetted, evocative of the silent film era, but the camera is also prone to light leaks, which can either enchant or annoy, depending on your aesthetic (they can be prevented by covering the seams of the camera in black electrical tape). The camera also does tend to advance by itself, so if you don't want double exposures, you'll probably want a protective bag.

The only other difficulty is finding 120 film. In New York City, I have only been able to find it at photographic equipment stores, most of which have limited hours. I either have to plan ahead or order online and wait for delivery. Sadly, I was planning on snapping some photos this past weekend at the stunningly decrepit Coney Island but was not able to get to the shop on time.

In spite of any inconveniences, I think the Diana+ is pretty wonderful. I'm a nostalgist at heart, so loading film and hearing the crank of the manual film advance is just so marvelously novel to me, and the images really do make you feel like you're looking back in time. If you've never used a toy camera and you're curious to learn more about the photographic process, the Diana+ or the Holga 120N are both an excellent place to start.

They're both cinematic brilliance? Yes. They'll share cult classic status? Yes, that too. But there's one more you'll never get. They were both filmed in my li'l hometown of Las Vegas, New Mexico. I know, you thought Las Vegas was in Nevada hah-hah blah-blah. But my Las Vegas is quaint, beautiful and a hotbed of hollywood film sets.

Red Dawn is one of my favorites and though it was never up for an Oscar like fancy pants No Country, the movie always manages to entertain. My junior high and parts of Vegas' downtown area were blown up and that's enough to make any angst-ridden kid happy, very very happy. WOLVERINES!!!!

No Country for Old Men sure blew away the critics. The Coen brothers are apparently geniuses, Javier Bardem makes for one hell of a creepy guy, and Las Vegas, NM was a good backdrop for murder and general bloodshed. Congrats to No Country!

Really what I wanted to do is share with you the shopping spree I went on after looking up Las Vegas, New Mexico in our wonderful comparison shopping engine. First, something I couldn't buy: This historic building going for $1.2 million. Shopwiki, can I have a raise? If I'm not mistaken this building is the Murphey's Drug Store building. Many shots from both Wyatt Earp and All the Pretty Horses were filmed there. Anyone want to go halfsies with me? Anyway, my other purchases included a black Las Vegas, NM t-shirt that I will wear proudly in the streets of New York City, a brown "New Mexico: Cleaner Than Regular Mexico" t-shirt that I will wear ironically in some hipster bar, AND a book, Jewish Pioneers of New Mexico. I swore we had ZERO Jewish people in New Mexico because up until I moved away, I had never met one. I have spoken of this to my Jewish coworkers who undoubtedly think I'm an uncultured small town hick.

I'm pretty excited about my purchases and hope that you are excited for me. Now lets hope my jobby job gives me a raisey raise because working here is going to break me.