A Man and a Woman, Indeed

Although he's been directing movies for almost fifty years, I had never heard of Claude Lelouch until the other day, when I rented a movie he made called A Man and a Woman (1966). This exquisite romance was nominated for four Oscars® during the 1966 season and declared Best Foreign Film and Best Screenplay. Not exactly a lightweight.

Much like Michaelangelo Antonioni, Lelouch was a documentary man who found success in art films, although it appears he did not find as much success as good ole Antonioni. Despite having only seen one (1) film of his, I feel comfortable saying that for two reasons:

1. I had never heard of him before the other day and I heard of Antonioni before I uttered my first word (almost).

2. Despite a prolific fifty-year career, he appears to have only made two movies of enduring quality: A Man and a Woman and the 1981 musical Les Uns et Les Autres (aka Boléro). The fact that a 23 year-old Sharon Stone has a bit role in the latter film only piques my curiosity and fear not--it is already on my Netflix queue.

Please do not think I mean to belittle Lelouch's contribution to the world of art, however. Anybody who contributes one exquisite book, painting, poem, photograph, motion picture, building, or sculpture to the global treasure trove can hold their head high in my book.

We should all be so lucky as to be responsible for the crafting of something enduringly beautiful, something strangers the world over can enjoy indefinitely, something that never would have existed without their unique efforts.

In other words, Joseph Heller can rest easy after 38 years of painful (trust me) failure post-Catch-22 and Claude Lelouch certainly has no reason to be ashamed of his cinematic hit ratio.

Los Angeles: Home of the Vaunted Broom Bear

That is some serious equipment there. The engineering involved in that thing is sick--aside from all the spinning brushes, the water system, and enormous engine, the middle segment jacks up and dumps the mess somewhere (the nearest Pacific tributary is popular, as it the most cost-effective solution). When we colonize the moon, this is probably what the astromen will clean it with once a week.

More importantly, this bear is evidence.  As a society, we have progressed from not giving a shit, to having actual humans clean our streets with brooms, to a citywide fleet of $127,000+ monster trucks [And that's used! -Ed.] that is valued more for its ability to generate bottomless profits from parking tickets than it is for leaving a trail of cleanliness.

Well done, world.

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Douchenberg?

In honor of Jay Leno's recent 'what-have-you' with Conan O'Brien/NBC, and his constant, suspicious profession of innocence in the matter, I feel it is my duty to remind the public of exactly what kind of character we are dealing with here when we speak of the man we call 'Jay Leno.'

What we are talking about here is a well-informed vintage car collector who bought a $1.5 million 1931 Duesenberg automobile for $180,000 and claims to have paid 'fair market value.'

Never mind that the owner was in his 80s, totally unaware of the sale, and suffering from dementia--or that Leno and the manager of the garage lied to that old man and put his cars up for sale in a secret auction where they were the only bidders. Or that the garage manager later shot himself in the face rather than face the music.

That's just how the game is played, right? Right?! Can I get a high-five on that?

Maybe only from Jay the 'humanitarian'...


...and then there is this, which I present to you for no reason in particular, except that it is funny to watch somebody impersonate Jay Leno so casually:



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Are You So Old You Should You Have Your Driver's License Revoked?

Then Lexus is the automobile manufacturer for you!

A car with a talking GPS that you can pre-program 200 destinations into online? I mean, a car your grandson can program 200 destinations into online? Wait a minute--the voice tells you where to go and if you still can't figure it out, an actual person will come on the line, politely neglect to tell you how stupid you are, and tell you how to get there in a loud, measured voice?

My crystal ball is getting cloudy. You know what that means...uh-oh, here we go...

I hear a deafening conversation taking place in the front seat of a pesky, dented, diaper-scented Cadillac about to be replaced by a Lexus with EnformTM eDestinationTM technology:

"Huh?"
"I said, 'WHERE ARE WE GOING?'"
"WE'RE GOING TO MABEL'S."
"Where does Mabel live?"
"Huh?"
"WHERE DOES MABEL LIVE?"
"I thought YOU knew!"
"I DON'T REMEMBER."
"Ask the car."
"What?"
"ASK THE CAR!"
"The car? THE CAR IS AN INANIMATE OBJECT!"
"CAR: TAKE US TO MABEL'S."

Nothing happens.

"I told you so."
"Well, maybe we should get one of those Lexuses. The Joneses have one and it does whatever they tell it to do."
"FUCK THE JONESES!"

Three hours later, they arrive at Mabel's house only two miles away.

Three weeks later, they trade in the Cadillac for a Lexus and promptly drive off a bridge when the calm voice at the helm says to continue straight ahead...

Thank you, Lexus!

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Will the Real Jay Leno Please Stand Up?

It's unfortunate that Kanye West's first public appearance post-VMA-blunder happened to be an already-scheduled appearance on Jay Leno's new, for lack of a better word, show. Has that guy ever given a good interview?

I can think of about 10,000 people I'd rather hear coax a worthless apology (either you got class or you don't) out of Chicago's most arrogant rapper. Letterman? Conan? Jon Stewart? My mailman?

I would rather see Kanye interviewed by somebody impersonating Leno than by Leno himself. What does that say about a fella?

I'll tell ya what it says--it says that fella is broke. Not financially, of course, since he continues to make millions due to his traction with the Alzheimer's set, but charisma-wise, intelligence-wise, humor-wise--broke.

But you probably already know all this.

What you may not know, however, is how morally broke Jay Leno is. Read on...

The guy pulls down over $25 million a year and loves cars. He has anywhere from 50-100 of them, plus almost as many motorcycles. He keeps them in an airplane hangar he adorably refers to as his 'garage' and employs 3-5 full-time mechanics to keep his fleet running smoothly.

Bottom line: When Jay Leno sees a car he wants, he buys it.

Unless that car is a rarity worth $1.2 million and the 90-something owner not only suffers from dementia, but also has no intention of selling him the car.

In that instance, Mr. Leno will simply conspire to swindle the old man out of the car, with the eager assistance of the manager of the Manhattan garage where the car was stored for fifty years.

The story goes like this:

A 1931 Duesenberg, but not the one in question

Jay had been trying to buy the car for years. He stored some cars in the same Manhattan garage in which the other rich guy stored some of his. Every time he walked past it, he wanted it even more...but the old prick wouldn't sell!

Conveniently, the owner of the 1931 Duesenberg, an heir to the Macy's fortune (of course), was unknowingly behind on his payments, so one day the garage manager sent a letter of warning that said if he did not pay his bill, the car would be auctioned off.

The owner promptly sent a check for $20,000 and the garage manager sneakily credited the money to some other cars held in a different garage owned by the same company. He then auctioned off the car to the only invited bidder, Jay Leno, who paid a relatively meager $180,000 for the automotive gem--over $1 million less than it was worth.

The old man never realized what happened and quickly kicked the bucket. Once his heirs swooped in and discovered part of their expected inheritance missing, all hell broke loose. They found out about the sham auction and immediately sued Jay Leno, the manager of the garage, and the company that owns the garage.

Three days later, the manager of the garage drove out to his summer home, parked his pick-up truck in the driveway, and put a bullet in his brain.

Guilt's a bitch.

Unless you're Jay Leno, that is. In his world, nothing has changed. Doritos for breakfast, Doritos for lunch, tool out to Burbank in a million-dollar car your employees refurbished for you, read a bad monologue your writers wrote for you, poorly interview two guests, laugh at your own jokes more than anyone else ever does, jerk-off in the shower, cry about how you have no friends, sleep, repeat.

He probably doesn't even remember anything about the entire affair, Bush-White-House-style. He probably never even thought he was in the wrong, figured the car belonged to him because he could figure out a way to get it, to game the system.

I'm sure his lawyers will postpone the trial for years, then appeal for still more years, and finally have his accountant cut a check for some small settlement to the only heir still hanging on for the fight, American-justice-style.

Welcome to the world of the megarich assholes, Jay! You and Kanye will get along splendidly.


Don't believe me? Read this. I couldn't find the original article I read last year, but this explains enough...

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