Yesterday, I dragged my novel-in-progress off the back burner and actually did some work on it. I am about to do a bit more work. Was going to do even more work tomorrow, but have been called in to work/cover a shift, and given my electricity bill arrived yesterday, and it was a SHOCKER (boom-tish!), I need all the extra buck-a-roonies I can earn.
But when I have done my work, I might just head off to the DVD hire franchise, and see if I can get out 'Dazed and Confused' tonight. I'm not talking about any Led Zeppelin flick, but an indie flick that has just celebrated its 21st birthday. Yes. Time flies like a mythological, rapid night-thing. I went and saw this film at the Valhalla in Glebe, accompanied with two of my cousins, and my cousin's then girlfriend (now wife). I used to love going to independent cinemas like the Valhalla. And I love watching movies like 'Dazed and Confused', which is set on the last day of school in 1976, in the US. Yes, I know it's the US, and I know I finished school in the Eighties, but those themes of the end of year party and getting drunk and groped can be identified with by most people. The film also has a soundtrack that just kicks arse of all description. It's got Kiss. It's got The Runaways. It's got Ted Nugent. Some of the music in the film isn't actually on the soundtrack CD I bought years ago, but I can put those tracks on my iPod. The tracks I'm thinking of are 'Summer Breeze' by Seals and Croft, and 'No More Mr Nice Guy' by Alice Cooper (I can download them onto my iPod). The latter track accompanies a rather awful scene, but it's brilliantly set up and filmed. A kid - freshman, I think - called Mitch is set upon by the seniors, and has the stuffing whacked out of his arse with a paddle. One of the sadistic fuckers is played by an almost unrecognisable Ben Affleck, although in this film he does bear a scary resemblance to one of my husband's uncles. The music, the kid being tracked down by the seniors, the pain on the kid's face, the cruel triumph of his attackers, the show-mo shots to me make one hell of a scene. So, I might hire it out, like I said.
Well, I've got to get typing. The scene I'm working on in my project is set in 1983 or so, and the character is making her debut. This is in no way autobiographical. Although of appropriate age then, I did not make my debut. I did not make it at any time. Whilst maintaining the view it is fine for others, I do believe I would sooner sit down and chow down on a big box of hair than partake in this ritual. There was a deb ball announced in my town at the salient time, and many girls of my age group rounded up partners, but I couldn't stomach the idea. Also, I was a bit shy to ask a boy to partner me. The other debs were twerps from Year 11, and I did not wish to be frolicking around in a long white gown, flowers in my auburn locks, wishing I was anywhere else, alongside this lot. My cousin made her debut (in another town), and I attended as a guest because we have always been very close. We went to an after-party, swilled Dr Jurd's Jungle Juice, and some bloke said to me, 'Has anyone ever told you you've got hair like Boy George?' I replied, 'They do if they want to die.'
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