Treme

If after I'm long gone someone decides to make a movie of my life I'd always hoped this song would be appropriate to play over the ending credits:

Speaking of TV on the television, I'm about halfway through the first season of Treme.

I enjoy it a great deal.  A lot of the nuances carry over from The Wire but I was a bit put off because I was waiting for an overt conflict.  Then I realized with Hurricane Katrina being the primary antagonist it opens up a lot of room for the writers to focus on individual characters and it frees up the time for all the 4 minute musical pieces which they've been taking full advantage of and I, for one, couldn't enjoy more.  I can only speculate on the authenticity of the show's portrayal of the struggle of those displaced by the disaster, (based on the opinions of critics of both this show and The Wire the writing staff is heralded for the painstaking research that they do) but the show has certainly made me fall in love with the city as it's principle character.  This being said with the fact that I'd seen it with my own eyes (pre-Katrina) in real life.
It doesn't have me on pins and needles like The Wire did with each episode.  This time around I'm more so just along for a leisurely ride.

The Face Of A New Portugal

She married a resolute man.  Very austere.  Many disgruntled would-be suitors would say underneath their breath, 'That's what she gets.' 'It's her loss.' 'Serves her right.', because they don't see him as she does.  They see the Republican.  The face of a new Portugal.  They see how he walks, not hand in hand with her, but directing her with a stern hand on the small of her back.  They don't see the kisses that he places on her forehead when he leaves each morning.
They see how the boys follow directly behind him, with the most erect of postures.  Never can one say they've seen them shouting or running around even when surrounded by children who are.
They don't get the intimate moments when he's not in the public eye.  On the evening hours in his slacks and bare feet kicked up, reading the gazette to the children.  The way he intently closes his eyes with that first inhale of a fresh cigar.  They've never seen him passionate, which he often is, either with anger or lust which in either event ultimately has the same effect on her.
He could be a furious man.  Never has he been sentimental but she could live with that.  She'd joke with him in the mornings while he shaves about how he had the mustache of a Republican and how cliche it was for him to have such a mustache. He'd laugh his laugh which was a mono-syllabic grunt the way you think of a sleeping elephant to cough.  That was all she'd get out of him because that's how he'd trained himself.  He believed someone of his stature should never be so compromised as to be doubled over in laughter.  He was very restrained.  When they were young they laughed together.  He'd once said that it was her sense of humor that made him love her above all things.  He didn't have that mustache back then.

From her bath she could reach her pruney foot, dripping all the way, and rub the back of his leg.  He liked that.

Ghostface Killah has single-handedly ruined the new Kanye West/Jay-Z collaborative album, Watch The Throne, for me.  Well I won't say that.  I still enjoy the album very much, but his hilarious review has put a very different perspective on it.  Thanks to Bumoltua for pointing this gem out for me.

In other new developments, I've upgraded to a new 250 Gig XBox 360 with the built in WiFi which allows me to play and enjoy from the comfort of my bed.  Thus making all hope of any productivity lost.