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Join us during January 22" thru February 19 and enjoy the best savings of the year. 35 OFF all Pennsylvania House Furniture and Upholstery 6 Month Same-As-Cash Financing OAC Free Collectors Book (while supplies last) FINE FURNISHINGS & ACCESSORIES 3174 Highland Dr. Salt Lake City, UT 84106 (801) 486-2257 More Dogs on Main Street By Tom Clyde Now showing on a bed sheet near you Sundance is in full swing. I've kind of avoided it for the last few years, but this year I had a friend visiting, vis-iting, and he wanted to see the full, wide-screen impact of the event. So, after a day of skiing, we prowled Main Street for a while. Our tuning was a little off because everybody was at the movies, which, I've come to learn, is technically called "attending a screening.'' So the action on the street was a little slower than it might have been when everybody was in scramble mode to get to their next "screening venue." There were enough fur coats to make a pretty respectable zoo, so I guess that while each film still has a disclaimer that assures us that "no animals were harmed in the making of this film," the same cannot be said for dressing the producer's mistress. The black uniforms have kind of given way to a more complicated costuming it theme. This year, funny hats and bizarre scarves have become the big fashion statement: giant fur hats, dead poodles, hats stolen from Amish farmers, baseball hats in slightly "off' shades with the names of films embroidered on them. And lots of scarves in colors not even Old Navy could unload at the atter-Chnstmas sales. Sunglasses were a hot item, too. Now this was at night, and it was quite dark out. But almost everybody we saw walking on Main had their sunglasses on. They weren't wearing them over their eyes. They were on their hats, or parked above their regular glasses, or flip-ups. flip-ups. Expensive flip-up sunglasses were hot. Then there were the Elton John variety, with inch-thick gold frames, or clear plastic frames filled with glitter, or frames that would change colors when the head moved in the light. There is a documentary about the shades of Sundance in production now. It has some shots of Redford's sun-glasses in there that are wonderful. Bob himself is not in the film, but his glasses are. In fact, there are no people in the film, no dialog, and no plot just shots of sunglasses in the dark. Very cutting edge. Screening venues are at a premium this year, as always. Sundance itself has booked all the big ones all the real theaters and convention rooms. During our short walk on Main, we saw screens being set up informally infor-mally everywhere. The most creative was a big-screen television set up on a vacant lot near the top of Main. The filmmaker had managed to round up a portable generator (which is probably worth more in blacked-out blacked-out California than his film), and set up a big TV facing the street. It was tastefully covered in a plywood box made from materials "salvaged" from a construction site. The enclosure was not up to building code or Historic District design standards, and the stage carpenters' car-penters' union was picketing. But there was the film, being shown at Sundance, even if it was oh a vacant lot with the soundtrack drowned out by the generator and the traffic on the street. I don't know what the film was. The seating on the sidewalk was a little cramped as people pushed by to get There were enough fur coats to make a pretty respectable zoo, so I guess that while each film still has a disclaimer that assures us that 'no animals were harmed in the making of this film,' the same cannot be said for dressing the producer's mistress." -Tom Clyde to their next screening, dining, drinking or schmoozing venue. Another special screening was at the Main Street Mall, where somebody had the idea of pointing their projector out the window at a bed sheet hung over the street. It would have made a tolerable screen, but that was the night the wind was howling, and the sheet was flapping. Actually, if one of the hand-held camera movies had been shown on the bed sheet screen, it would have worked well. The flapping of the screen may have counter balanced the jiggling camera, and ended up with images that stayed still enough to see. But as fate would have it, this was a film shot with a tripod, tri-pod, and the flapping sheet only served to make it look like a hand-held epic. But they were showing their film at Sundance. The rear projection on to the bed sheet meant that anybody watching from the street was see-ine see-ine it in mirror image. That's a big problem for locals, but the Film Festival crowd always seems to be able to come up with a mirror on short notice. There was another film being shown in a VW van. My friend has just done a very nice restoration , on an old VW bus, which he drove across the country to get here. He was quite impressed with the bus itself. We couldnt figure out whether you watched the movie from inside, or outside, or if you looked in the windows somebody would punch you out, as the van was rockin" both times we walked by. They were passing out stickers, and had a loud speaker attached that was making noises that didnt seem to be related to what was going on inside the van with the steamed up windows. We had a very good dinner in the relative calm of Red Banjo Pizza. We were clearly eating among those whose films had not been purchased yet. They were living on credit, and knew how to find good food at a reasonable price. They were filled with hope and pepperoni. We walked up to Grappa after dinner, and caught a glimpse of the people whose films had been picked up, and were eating large that night. It was early, and the big money doesnt eat until after 10, but we still saw a bit of the celebration. cel-ebration. My friend had a cell phone with him, and called his sister just to blend in. Passers by immediately assumed he must have been somebody important; a star in snowboard snow-board pants. The other end of film festival frantic pace on Main Street and elsewhere was at the resort. We skied at Park City, and I have to say it was very nice of Vern to hire all those people and run all those lifts just for the two of us. There was nobody there. The lifts at PCMR seat more than some of the screening venues, but we almost never had anybody else on the chair with us. Nobody on the hill. It was like the neutron bomb had been dropped. My friend thought it all very strange. Tom Clyde is a forma city attorney and author of "More Dogs on Main Street. " He has been a columnist for The Park Record for more than a decade. Don't get me started By Gary Weiss Astronaut suits and cowboy hats 0 mm Conventional wisdom notwithstanding, there is no" reason either in football or in poetry why the two should not meet in a man's life, if he has the weight and cares about the words. " That, from the American poet Archibald MacLeish, in 1978. "Football combines the two worst things about America: It is violence punctuated by committee meetings. meet-ings. " And that, from George Will, the U.S. political columnist and author, in 1990. George Will, by the way, is both a well known Republican snob, and one of those people nostalgically enthralled with baseball, blathering endlessly about things like its "purity." Hah! Now, generally speaking, sports books aren't known for solid humor and witty repartee. But what I've used for the above title comes from one of the best. Dan Jenkins, who also wrote Semi-Tough, among other novels, wrote one about the life-of an itinerant sports reporter, called You Gotta Play Hurt. In a vignette about covering the Winter Olympics, he describes the American team marching into the opening' ceremonies wearing, as a team costume, cos-tume, Michelin Manlike Man-like astronaut suits and giant cowboy hats. Even now, more than 10 years after I I love watching football. I always have. I unapologetically luxuriate in the sloth of devoting 20 full Sundays and 17 Monday nights to watching it on TV. Deep in the Tao of Guy. " Gary Weiss first read the book, that image still makes me laugh. Rarely have I come across a description that so immediately imme-diately evokes a picture of how Americans must seem as we swagger onto the world stage. The only thing that might have made it better, would have been if they'd come in singing "Viva Las Vegas!" For some reason, I can never think about the Super Bowl, without thinking think-ing of that image. And tomorrow is, of course, Super Bowl Sunday. Along with celebrity, Americans love spectacle in a way that, perhaps, was exceeded only by ancient Rome. And other than the Academy Awards, there is no greater yearly American spectacle than the Super Bowl. In fact, it one of those few things in this life so bizarre and over the top, that it's virtually impossible to parody. Primarily, I think, because somehow over the years it's become much more about the surrounding ado, than the game itself. Still, it hard to figure out why more than a billion people around the work) tune in to watch a game that so few countries even play. I love watching football. I always have. I miss it when the season over, and though I've never been much of a television watcher, I unapologetically luxuriate in the sloth of devoting 20 full Sundays and 17 Monday nights to watching it on TV. It one of the very few things that has stayed the same in my life over something like four decades. Deep, in the Tao of Guy. All of that notwithstanding, I can admit that it really is kind of a silly sport. It shows a vastly different kind of athleticism than basketball, tennis or soccer. Teams carry nearly SO players for a game that calls for 11 at a time. It st violent and destructive to the human body that no one rationally expects players to last the whole season. And as it was once described accurately, I think by The London Times: "American football is an occasion at which dancing girls, bands, tactical huddles hud-dles and television commercial breaks are interrupted by short bursts of play. " Like all of those are negative things! But it's the ultimate American sport full of muscle, mus-cle, technology, sweat, money, oceans of testosterone, complex plans and even more complex rules, 350 pound men, fans with painted faces and ridiculous outfits, out-fits, NO GIRLS, and the responsibility for the invention inven-tion of the "TV. Timeout"; a stoppage in the game for no other reason than to allow for more commercials. And, just in case The Times of London hadnt noticed, American football fans hardly ever riot in the stands and kill a bunch of people. Unlike the staid and reserved British. And, of course, what could match the riveting excitement of an English cricket match? As a stand-alone ; : game, despite suppos edly being a match between the two best ; teams in the sport, the ': Super Bowl is rarely any good. But the spectacle is unmatched. Not too long ago, the endless half-time show used to be made up of acts like up witn feople" and Anita Bryant. This year, it N-Sync and Aerosmith, with a tie-in to MTV. I dont even know what that means. Regardless, it a full-on circus full of fireworks, tumblers and any other weird, damned thing they can come up with. That aint all. The audience for the Super Bowl is so huge, that various corporations spend millions making special commercials that may only be seen this once. Then they pay something like $500,000 for a 30-second spot to show it. Some people actually tune in just to see these works of art. How perverse can this day become? And take it from one who knows, the Super Bowl is a bookie nightmare, especially with teams like this. Everyone bets big and most wont bet again until next football season. Action very tough to lay off, and with no comebacks, a hard hit can put an office out of business. I, uh, must've heard all that somewhere like the Discovery Channel. So, whither this thing, this Super Bowl? Commentators have been spewing so much crap about this game for the last two weeks, that now we're down to all the lame old cliches from His Holiness Vince Lombardi, and all the rest. But few can wallow in the cliche sty like me, and I've found what should be the perfect football cliche. It from Nietzsche, back in 1888, before commercials and canned beer were even invented. But it works: " assess the power of a will by how. much resistance, pain and torture it endures and Knows now to turn to its advantage. Jeez, I should be a coach! Gary Weiss is the former owner of Dolly's Bookstore |