October 19th, 2009

pulsing jock

Rugby is for sissies

Last weekend mudcub and I went to a rugby game.

It was a match with the Washington Renegades, D.C.'s gay team.
Here's the team conferrin' about a scrum or somesuch.
The guys were very friendly, and invited us to join them for beer afterwards, which we did.

All of this takes place in the shadow of the Washington Monument --
well, if there were shadows on this blustery, perfect fall day.

I was finally able to meet naylandblake's dicta for good photographs
like "have several things going on in the picture,"
and "have your subject off center" by shooting live sports.
Although most of them just came out blurry.

It's a rough sport.

Gotta have protection! Although most players don't.
I still maintain rugby is all about getting hurt, and the beer afterwards.
Generally the only ones wearing these padded helmets
are those who already have had an ear ripped off.

It's a great sport for ogling men's calves!

These are one of the coaches'.

"Send me in, coach!" mudcub wants to play.
He's played on the Denver and San Francisco gay rugby teams,
and is going to start going to the Renegades' training and practice nights.
(And yeah, I just broke several photography rules with this shot, but he's still fuckin' handsome.)

Walking back to the car we came upon a Kodak Moment for the Jefferson Memorial,
where we saw a lot of men running around in red dresses. More on that in a future post.

Oh, and the Renegades won their game!
It was a great day.

movie popcorn

Two movie reviews

Fig. 1

It’s Dave Eggers’ world, we just live in it:

mudcub told me about his complete collection of McSweeney’s Journal. I’m looking forward to their next issue to be published in a couple of weeks, this one is in the form of a Sunday newspaper.

Worked through much of the latest issue of The Believer while on the toilet this weekend, and it’s really improved as a magazine, more good writing on really interesting subjects and less twee, less fucking hipster irony, post-irony, post-post-irony, and neo-irony.

I gave mudcub this [see Fig. 1 above], The Wild Things, Eggers’ young-adult novelization of his screenplay of Sendak’s original children’s classic with only 338 words. McSweeney’s also designed and published the $40 coffee-table The Making of book with a hardbound binding that folds throughout the book. Fuck yeah.

We watched Away We Go, Eggers’ first screenplay, directed by the acclaimed Sam Mendes (American Beauty). A road movie without much of a road (they fly most places), a young couple, abandoned by their one remaining set of parents and apparently without much in the way of roots or friends, look for a new place to settle. The largely acoustic alt/emo soundtrack gave it a part Nick Drake, part Cat Stevens/Harold & Maude vibe. Away We Go becomes a series of set pieces shot (and beautifully shot at that) around the country, with great comic star turns by Allison Janney as an alcoholic mom and Maggie Gyllenhaal as an unsufferable more-spiritually-evolved-than-thou post-vowel wymyn. They finally settle in an abandoned ocean-view family plantation mansion which they were idiots not to move to in the first place.

We considered going to see Where the Wild Things Are, but opted instead for Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs IN 3-D since that will be leaving theaters soon. I was delighted at its highly stylized design, looking like no other animated feature you’ve ever seen, and quirky humor. And now I want a Steve the Monkey with Brain Wave-Reading Speaking Translator for myself!

Both movies ended up along surprisingly similar themes: being misfits, feeling out of place, although Meatballs ends up with the usual trope about wanting (and finally receiving in the last reel) your father’s approval, and Away is actually all about meditations on childbearing and parenting.

Both are recommended, although Meatballs is a lot funnier, and Away is not for kids, opening with cunnilingus and closing with the word “fuck.”