When I was growing up, my brother had a big, framed Garfield illustration in his bedroom. He was covered in the contents of an exploded toothpaste tube - Garfield, that is, not my brother - and wearing a grouchy expression of "Harumph!" Across the illustration was written: "I Hate Mondays." Every seventh day, that's basically how I experience the morning. Well, until I finish my first cup of coffee. Then my tail's wagging again.
But for my fellow grouchy Garfields out there, I thought it might it be nice to ease into the workweek with a new little tradition. Hopefully you spent the weekend far, far away from a computer: beaching, hiking, horseback riding, hang gliding, or another favorite activity often featured in commercials for feminine hygiene products and male enhancement formulas. So I figured I'd pull together a quick roundup of Friday-through-Sunday entertainment world highlights. We'll call it, "While You Were Weekending" - at least, until I come up with something better.
The Rolling Stones rocked Boston.
On Friday night, Jagger and Co. played the final Boston date of their 50 & Counting... tour. Shout-out to the Boston University Marsh Chapel Choir (including my bud Graham Wright, founder of the Opus Affair, an awesome social group for people who like booze and art), which accompanied the Stones on "You Can't Always Get What You Want." Also, shout-out to modern technology for allowing a YouTube user to achieve this super clear documentation.
Disclaimer: this video is actually from Wednesday's Boston show, but it was the clearest version I could find. And I'm pretty sure that, after 45 years, they didn't decide to change the lyrics on Friday.
I'm not a huge Stones fan (though "Wild Horses" is pretty masterful), but all the reviews I saw were pretty glowing. And I have to give the Stones a standing O for continuing to rock well into AARP age. It's funny, though; these dudes, like Bruce Springsteen, are generally applauded for continuing to do what they do - rock, roll, and pop their pelvis - even as gray stallions. The Stones even embrace their longevity with the very name of their tour. But nearly every review I saw of Madonna's last concert, where she continued to do what she does - dance, dazzle, and pop her pelvis - was fixated on the question of whether she's "too old" to be doing it. And she's significantly younger than these guys. Double-standard? Hell yes. The boys can pop their little blue pills and jerk their Gibson guitars all over town, but heaven forbid a hot 50-year old wants to hoof it in stilettos and hot pants. That's just too much.
Man of Steel had box office super-strength.
Faster than a speeding bullet and richer than Warren Buffet. (Okay, not that rich.) Warner Bros.' reboot of the Superman franchise, Man of Steel, had the best June opening of all time: over $125 million in its first weekend. The flick was produced by Christopher Nolan, who gave our handsome embodiment of all-American heroism a slightly darker tone: as he did with Batman in the Dark Knight trilogy. This seems to be the way we're "doing" superhero movies now: brooding. (See also: last summer's Green Lantern. No seriously, see it. Because judging by that flop's box office receipts, nobody else did.) As a middle school-era comic book nerd, this approach excites me in theory. I never really dug Superman because he felt a little too Howdy Doody Wholesome. Yet ironically, I'm in the small contingent that didn't particularly love Nolan's Dark Knight trilogy. (I preferred director Tim Burton's twisted vision.) I'm going to catch Man of Steel next weekend, and I'm curious how I'll feel about it. Did you see it? What's your take? (Also, local trivia of note: check out the new Interview magazine cover story with Man of Steel stars Henry Cavill and Amy Adams. The photo shoot was held at the pool in Boston's own Revere Hotel.)
Bjork was Bjork-like at Bonnaroo.
Bjork, everyone's favorite pop cultural touchstone for Iceland, performed at Bonnaroo 2013 on Saturday while wearing an elaborate headpiece that looks like a dandelion cross-pollinated with a disco ball. Bjork, in case you're too young to be familiar, is a very cool singer well known for wearing wild, avant-garde outfits long before Lady Gaga made that seem desperate and cloying. Bonnaroo, in case you're too old to be familiar, is a very cool music festival where twenty- and thirty-somethings who won't quite commit to Burning Man set up tents and wear headbands and have the best time everrrrrrrr. No, I tease. It's a fun festival, I'm just glad that my Instagram timeline will no longer be flooded with city slickers capturing their blissed-out weekend in Hippie Chic photo filter. Especially since I know 90 percent of these fairweather ragamuffins normally sneer at "the sticks": i.e. anywhere more than a ten-minute drive from a Starbucks. Now, here's an awesome Bjork video that used to give me nightmares if I watched it on MTV right before bed. Ta-da.
Kim Kardashian had her baby.
I know, I don't really care either. But you're going to hear about this inevitably, so it might as well be from me. The good news: there is a new healthy little girl in the world. The bad news: Kim Kardashian and Kanye West are in charge of raising it. The weird news: baby Kimye was born the same weekend West's other big new release, his album Yeezus, leaked online. (It officially comes out tomorrow.) Apparently this child has inherited her parents' knack for impeccably-timed publicity. Strangely enough, the couple known for over-sharing has yet to reveal the name of the little girl, but I'm sure that's because they're planning to first announce it to an intimate circle of their closest several million Twitter followers. Y'know, like they teach you in the etiquette books.
I am far from Kim Kardashian's biggest fan (though Kanye I find fairly cool). But I can't strongly begrudge a new parent, so: Congratulations, Kimye. Now, let's all look forward to that awkward moment ten years from now, when TBD Kardashian discovers the Internet. And you thought your "birds and bees" talk was uncomfortable?
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