cronereport.com

Just saw “Encounters at the End of the World” at the Carolina. Didn’t know how Herzog’s sensibilities would translate to documentary, but they do, beautifully. Some amazing under-ice footage from, surprisingly, Henry Kaiser (who also did some of the music along with David Lindley). From the oddballs that are attracted to life on Antarctica (I’m looking at you, Mark!) to the scientists who brave the harsh conditions to study volcanoes and neutrinos and penguins and rare life forms, he captured the beauty of a place both lonely and extreme.

And only Herzog would ask a scientist “Are there any insane penguins?” and then find one. And film it. And evoke a sense not of insanity, but of adventure and obsession and futility and pioneering and the essence of a personal journey.

Live from Polkafest in Riverhead: a polka version of “Kharma Chameleon”.

Madonna turned 50 today. Welcome to cronedom! You should be receiving your card from the AARP any day now. I can’t say I’ve ever been a fan of her music or dancing, but I admire her as a (show)businesswoman. I’ll be interested to see if she’s still wiggling it on the stage in her 60s a la Mick Jagger. Hey, it worked for Tina Turner.

Speaking of old broads, we just watched the amazing finish of the women’s marathon. 38 years old and running like the energizer bunny! Now on to the other Olympic old broad, Dara Torres.

Mr. D. and I took a tour of the new studios at Golden Belt last night. Some of the work was excellent, but overall, it was not the highest caliber of art I’ve ever seen. But one of the things I like about Durham is that it’s not an art-snobby place. If you are working at your creative pursuits, people here are pretty supportive and enthusiastic rather than judgmental and critical and dismissive. So my hat’s off to all the artists here who are pursuing their dreams and making the effort to Make Stuff. They aren’t doing so to please my particular aesthetic but to explore their own creativity and develop their own skills. And that’s the way it should be.

We toddled off from Golden Belt to Merge Records, in Flywheel’s former digs, to see the Robert Pollard exhibit, which Roger had given me the heads-up about. We got there just before 9pm, the official end time for Culture Crawl/Third Friday, so it was mostly a private party at that point. Barry actually didn’t know anybody in the room—a rare occurrence. He was also the only person wearing orange tie-dye in a sea of mid-90s Dark Neutrals. I had described the show eloquently to him as “some comic books guy” and afterwards he said that if he’d KNOWN it was Robert Pollard of Guided by Voices fame he would have gotten there earlier.

From there we meandered over to Bull McCabe’s, sat outdoors where I was actually a tad chilly on an August night! The chicken pot pie—a preview of their fall menu—was excellent, as was the Sierra Nevada Anniversary Ale that Barry got (hoppy!). Barry and the proprietor are in an English Premier League fantasy league, which kicks off today. As I write this, Blackburn is up on Everton by one point, and one of Barry’s players did…something. I have an incomplete attention span when it comes to all things sports. On the other hand, Barry wondered about the Pukka Pies ad on the walls of the stadium, prompting a google search to the site cited. He had conjectured that they were an Indian treat, but in fact they are a manufacturer of traditional UK fare like sausage rolls and pasties. I think Bull McCabe’s should carry sausage rolls and pasties. Much more authentic UK fare than quesadillas and buffalo wings. Plus, I don’t think I’ve had either since I left CA.

Today’s agenda includes the ever popular go into the studio and work on my never-ending website redesign, but for those who plan to have fun on a Saturday afternoon, there is a rumor that the Fabulous Fishscenta will be in attendance at the Gay and Lesbian Film Festival at the Carolina this weekend. Plus, it’s a gorgeous day. Go play.

The number of trains passing through downtown Durham per day = the number of time I’m on the phone.

The hell with the election. The real news is Bob Costas’ toupee.

Lose the rug. Please. You’re fooling no one.

The fencers look like beekeepers on the Moon.

Badminton is not a sport. It’s a lawn game. What’s next, Olympic horseshoes?

I went to the website of the Davey Awards mentioned in my last post. In 2007, in the Print/Collateral category alone, they had 153 gold award “winners.”  For the silver awards—again, just in one category—I lost count somewhere after 400, and I was only in the M’s.

Why don’t they just say “Pay us an $85 entry fee and you can put the phrase ‘award-winning’ on all of your marketing materials!”

What a racket.

I got a solicitation in the mail to enter into a competition called the “Davey Awards.” The idea is Davey vs. Goliath, you know, the small scrappy upstart vs. the BIG GIANT.

To qualify as being a “small” graphic design firm, you have to have less than $5 million in billings.

Phew. And for a minute there I didn’t think I’d qualify.