Sunset Flight

Mark this down: For the first time since ... well, whenever, sunlight shone into my living room before I left for work. If ever I needed something to get me out of my funk, that just might do it.

: )

And then, after a day full of ... well, whatever I do in a day: sunset.



What did I ever do in the days before digital? When I would shoot rolls of film and then, basically, never get them developed? I honestly do not know.

And now, I have stumbled upon The Last of the Mohicans. And I remember seeing this film in a theater, and perhaps I saw it too soon after having seen Dances with Wolves or something, I dunno, but when I first watched Mohicans, I felt as if something were missing, somehow. And then ... I do not remember when or where or how or why, but sometime, later, I saw it again.

And I fell in love with the film. The story. Sacrifice, love, heroism ... and a GREAT soundtrack, which is easily on par with Dances; in fact, perhaps better because, for some unknown reason, the Dances with Wolves soundtrack (at least the one I have, anyway) does not include THE best song in the movie, the song where John Dunbar is dancing around the campfire, shaking the stick and basically going wild, the scene for which THE MOVIE IS NAMED, pretty much; how they could not include this song is beyond me, really.

Anyhoo, I now adore The Last of the Mohicans.

Stay alive, no matter what occurs; I will find you. No matter how long it takes, or how far: I will find you.

And the scene where Alice jumps ...

Damn.

: )

Earlier this evening, I watched a little bit of Rocky III, which previously had been my favorite of the Rocky series or franchise or whatever the hell it turned into. And I still find great humor in the performance by Mr. T/Clubber Lang and visual satisfaction in the ultra-ripped body of Sly Stallone, but other than that ... in terms of boxing movies, Million Dollar Baby KICKS THE ASS of any Rocky flick out there. And in terms of stories, too, it is better than anything Rocky-related.

There. I said it.

And perhaps the best part about Baby is the fact that, when it ends, you know: There ain’t gonna be no rematch. Which is kinda sad and sweet and somehow just about perfect, really, as sequels sometimes suck and stories should stand alone, really. Usually.

: )

The plane landed safely. Almost unnoticed, actually.