Ginty!

Bonus Ginterview:

What Can I Tell You About Bs.As.?

1. This music video is actually a documentary.



2. The subway system (el subte) is designed like a fork, with all the lines of the city converging in a central focal point right around the Plaza de la Republica (the famous obelisko). But since the last time I was here they have opened a new line (the H line) that cuts down the middle of town and allows one to take a minor shortcut. The stations in this new line are super modern yet the trains that run through are the rickety ones found in all the other lines. Some of the trains rumble so heavily through these historical tunnels that you feel the train might actually be wrenched apart while you're en route.

3. Part one of Soderbergh's epic about Che Guevara is already playing here, with giant posters of Benicio Del Toro all over town (they might be saving the downer second half of the project until the new year.) There are also posters everywhere for High School Musical 3, which will probably be the biggest Argentine box office hit of all time, as Zack Efron seems to possess the standards of genetic perfection that, outside of Argentina, can only be achieved in science-fiction or at Paul Verhoeven's casting calls.

4. I saw a half-hour show yesterday morning that was all footage of football goals scored, perhaps last week, perhaps all season. One shot after another of a striker scoring and the announcer screaming GOOOAAALLL!!!!!! for thirty seconds. Rinse and repeat.

5. I went to see Quantum of Solace in Palermo last night, shortly after watching a free performance by the Berlin Philharmonic in the centre of town (again, in front of the obelisko). When I bought my ticket and went in, the usher showed me to my precise seat. This might be a North American thing, but assigned seating to go see a movie seems to be a bit much, especially in an age where the film will not only be available in three months on DVD, but also can be found immediately on the sidewalk after coming out of the theatre, in bootleg form.

6. TV in Buenos Aires is insane. The hotel I'm staying at has about 75 channels, about 65 of which are Latin American variants of all the major American satellite channels. One of the tawdriest news channels, Cronicas TV, is aptly-named because I think Dr. Dre is the director of news operations there - if someone is lucky enough to catch a kid in the favelas firing his weapon off, they will show it in an endless loop and set it to music. There is a channel for each of the main American media conglomerates, plus an MGM Channel. The Latino TCM shows some movies, but mostly Spanish dubs of Get Smart and Kojak. I thought Argentine TV would be way raunchier than it actually is. The local channels are very low-budget by comparison, though they openly mimic the graphics of CNN, right down to the exact onscreen fonts. But one thing I can't do in Toronto is get up in the morning and start the day off with a one-two combo of Gilmore Girls and Veronica Mars reruns and stumble home to watch a chapter of Kieslowski's Dekalog, all of it subtitled en castellano... in Toronto you can only really depend on seeing a rerun of Everybody Loves Raymond while channel surfing at any given moment. By the way, I don't love Raymond and I want to go on the record with this.

Volver a Buenos Aires

Telekino is off to Argentina for another round of primavera. I leave on the 19th and get back on December 4. I switch planes in Chile - I will be have to kill four hours roaming the Santiago airport before legging it to Buenos Aires. Last time I stayed at a minimalist boutique hotel in Palermo Viejo but this time I want to hotel-hop and spend a few days in a few different barrios. I start off at a bed and breakfast in Boedo, a currently resurgent neighbourhood that was a hotbed of tango and leftist politics in the thirties. Then I move over to Recoleta, kind of the Upper West Side of Buenos Aires, to stay at an old hotel with stone lions at the entrance and an elevator that goes Bang! when it descends to the main level, i.e. my kind of place. Haven't yet booked the hotel for the last leg of the trip - I trust that I will be able to find another interesting place to stay when I'm there.

More bulletins to come.

Official Proclamation

As of November 2008, it is decreed that all arthouse films with a female protagonist must be marketed identically in this country's newspapers. None of this 'other kind of poster' bullshit. This is the design that elicits the most effective response.

Like a Hurricane

Paul Lynde hijacks the Channel 13 news team in Toledo, Ohio in 1978. One of my favourite inexplicable slabs of television history... I got hammered just watching this.

Bang Bang

The definitive version of course.


You could always count on Mina to do this song justice.


A French-Vietnamese cover by Thanh Lan is pretty awesome...


Equipe 84 did a hot psychedelic Italo version one evening on RAI...

Umm, can someone please put Raquel Welch's TV variety specials out on DVD?

My Name Is Potato

Southern Nights

Currently working through a particularly unshakeable earworm - Allen Toussaint's 'Southern Nights' (1975).

Glen Campbell took it to number one on the pop and country charts in 1977 - here he is performing it live in short shorts, with a little help from a friend.



Compare the hit version to the Toussaint original - with eerie lead vocals run through a Leslie speaker...



Meanwhile the Lawrence Welk version from 1979 makes the song sound like Huey Long might have used it as his campaign theme in the thirties...

NBC in the BA

Stanley White vs. Joey Tai

Galack Obama

Perhaps the Sci-Fi Channel should consider sending some reporters out to cover the GOP Convention in the Twin Cities this week. I mean, I know Battlestar Galactica is supposed to be a grand metaphor for the Iraq war and all, but come on - cylons running for president is laying it on a bit thick.

This election is the first between two nominees born outside of the continental United States (Barack was born in Hawaii; McCain, Panama) so why not add a VP pick who lives next door to Russia?

I can see the Ivan (Jason?) Reitman movie now - the 72 year president dies a few months after the inauguration and suddenly a 44-year-old Alaskan über-Soccer Mom becomes leader of the free world. With sexy results.

(Thanks, Ken!)

Frankenheimer Trailers

John Frankenheimer was one of the great black & white directors - in fact, I took his advice from an interview with him I saw once and checked out some of his cheesy eighties pulp like 52 Pick-Up with Roy Scheider and Dead Bang with Don Johnson but I turned the colour off on my TV; he said they were much better viewed in monochrome and yes, they are. He was also the master of the DVD director's commentary track. Too bad he never recorded one for Black Sunday...

Very disturbing trailer for The Manchurian Candidate (1962)



The most depressing movie ever made - Seconds (1966)



Cinerama-hyping TV trailer for the bloated Grand Prix (with Françoise Hardy!) (1966)



Am I the only one who prefers French Connection II (1975) to the original?

JLG & ACJ

More 'Waters of March' discoveries - here's a montage obviously made with love and some consideration.

Águas de Março

The sacred.



The profane.

The ABC Movie Of The Week

Mary Tyler Moore font slathered in Douglas Trumbull visual effects set to the music of Burt Bacharach... does it get any more seventies than this? I guess if you were to watch the clip while wearing orange Foster Grants after stirring your fondue...

Avant et Apres: Nino Ferrer

The mid-sixties yé-yé look

Disciplined Salut les Copains crowd enjoying the rave-up? Check.
Ray Davies meets Jacques Dutronc stage presence? Check.
Microphone framed by substantial sideburns of singer? Check.
Ruffled cuffs on Hammond organ? Check.
Belting out a song about pickles? Check.

The mid-seventies burnout look

Giant, foamy Civil War beard? Check.
The fashion sense of Mike Love at his most attenuated (beard-hat combo adorning gaunt skullface)? Check.
Walking around a waxy jungle diorama while ignoring a beautiful woman? Check.

Basking In Bacharach

Vedettes Sur 45

All I know is Françoise is on the charts and I think she placed ahead of 'More Zan Zis'. The year is 1982.

Hypercolour

Awesome scene from the awesome Sholay!

This scene from Mehboob Ki Mehndi is pastelrific.

Sydney Pollack - R.I.P.

This clip would be even better if it was the Sydney Pollack from Husbands and Wives or Eyes Wide Shut dressing you down for preferring to watch films that have been formatted from their original aspect ratio to fit your TV... "What the hell is the matter with you? Don't you realize you lose 50 fucking percent of the widescreen image when you watch this shit in pan and scan? You infant!"



Widescreen title sequence for Three Days of the Condor... avec Data70 et Dave Grusin.

And the master in action...


He will be missed...

Whither The Weather?

"It Even Looks Like Freedom."

Toronto Hulk

The Incredible Hulk wreaking havoc on Yonge Street, beating tanks up in front of The Big Slice and swatting shoulder-fired missiles down on the U of T campus promises to be one of the highlights of a long hot Toronto summer. My friend Dov and I thought long and hard about other amazing Toronto-centric sequences that no doubt will await us in the multiplex...

The Hulk having dinner at Cafe Diplomatico and then going to Soundscapes

The Hulk walking everywhere or on his bike wearing a helmet with wings on it

The Hulk riding a paddle boat at Ontario Place

The Hulk at H&M trying on low-waist jeans

The Hulk at the Brass Rail

The Hulk in K-Town ordering another garbage can full of kimchi

The Hulk turning Play De Record into Break De Record

The Hulk getting rejected by the NFB

The Hulk in Yorkville tickling young ladies passing by with tree branches

The Hulk ordering a triple-triple at Timmy's and rolling up the rim of the actual store

The Hulk getting in on that 2 day rebate on his April Metropass because of the TTC strike

The Hulk hanging around the Central Reference Library waiting to check his hotmail on the free computers

The Hulk starting a facebook group to promote his DJ night in Kensington Market

The Hulk renting an apartment on Roncesvalles, inspiring a hulkaccino drink at his local fair trade coffee spot

The Hulk producing an award-winning season at Soulpepper after being named the new Artistic Director

Toronto Fantasyland

The thing is, it sort of was this awesome when I was very young.

I Will Never Stop Loving You, Quebec.

Salute To Ontario

Dave Le Diamant: Juste Un Gigolo

This eighties interview with quote machine David Lee Roth from the French Enfants Du Rock is greatly enhanced by the gallic touch of the giggling interviewer, the subtitles and the video toaster effects.

Aberturas da Telenovelas Brasileiras

These opening credits from seventies Brazilian telenovelas are FANTASTIC in every way.

Miami Vice Will Continue

I have the first three seasons of Miami Vice on DVD and they are awesome enough, but I feel that this is a show that should have been released with the original commercial breaks of the eighties. I remember a great night out many years ago that ended with us all over at someone's house watching their roommates' 6-hour VHS tape of Vice episodes with the original ads, and night turned into day...

Since then I have made a point of searching Goodwills and Value Villages for old VHS tapes marked Miami Vice - that was a show that people tended to record weekly on a timer and fill up a tape.

Anyway, here is are some prime Vice commercial breaks to prove my point, from a Pittsburgh NBC affiliate.

Mr. Freedom Isn't Free

Next week Eclipse is putting out The Delirious Fictions of William Klein on DVD - never dreamed that Mr. Freedom would receive a Criterion-level restoration and release, but here it is, along with Who Are You Polly Magoo? and The Model Couple, three over-the-top satires by one of the masters of photography. Here is a tribute to Mr. Freedom that should wet your whistle.

Canadian Ad Agencies On The Rampage

Some of these ads make that Lee Majors/Mitchum Canuxplotation classic Agency look like a documentary.

The Original Lady Sovereign

Aretha Franklin takes Manhattan, clearly.

Primavera

Tullio De Piscopo brings it on, full Stop Bajon. This song is like potato chips for me these days. I heard this song again down in Argentina when I went a bit overboard buying vinyl - loading up on trashy disco compilations from the eighties put out by a DJ named Pato C. More on him later.

Good luck only listening to this song once.

Sloganeering

If this were only the original trailer...

Question Me An Answer

Though it's probably a bad, bad movie, I'm dying to get my chance to see the 1973 remake of Frank Capra's Lost Horizon, a prime example of the disconnect between the Hollywood Studios and the movie audience of the seventies. And I don't want to see it so much because of the moviemaking but rather to see how the songs are deployed in context of the film, as this is the only original motion picture musical written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David; in fact its colossal failure was the beginning of the end of their partnership. I bought the soundtrack on a whim a few years ago, partly because the movie was so famous for being bad and partly because of its garish gatefold cover of the steps of Shangri-La. I didn't actually listen to the record until I went on a huge Bacharach bender and tried to sample everything he did. (Another fantastic discovery along these lines was Bacharach and David's score for Promises, Promises on Broadway, another remake, this time of The Apartment, with Jerry Orbach. The clip below is a mindblowing number from the 1968 Tony Awards of the most uncharacteristic song from the show.)


This is a clip from a Bacharach TV special made around the time of Lost Horizon and Burt seems pretty enthusiastic about the project and working with a children's choir (was there ever a man who seemed more comfortable in his own skin?) but in a more recent interview he painted the experience as a nightmare - perhaps the reception it received got under his skin over the years.


But it's a terrific score, anyway, considering Sally Kellerman sings a few of the songs. I would have been classified as a "heavy user" of this soundtrack a couple of years ago - I played it a few times a week, not my usual practise. Of course there is no DVD of the film, even as a cash-in on Bacharach's cult status. How happy I am to be able to present this appreciation of one of the highlights of Lost Horizon courtesy of two hilarious Dutchmen.

Senior Moment

The first thought I had when I saw the final one-sheet for this summer's Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Meth was: hasn't anything happened to me in the last eighteen years? It looks exactly like the other posters in the series, in the sense that it looks like it came off a template of eighties action movie poster design. I will repeat my grousing of last year. Harrison Ford is now older than Sean Connery was when he played his father in the last one. But Connery was supposed to be a senior in that film...I highly doubt Ford's role is to be that of the grumpy old man in this one. Please let there not be a shirtless scene.

This seems to be a bit of a step back for Spielberg. I think it's a bit old-fashioned to continue to knock him for being Mr. Blockbuster, a non-risk-taking director who, to quote from an anti-Spielberg essay written by Crispin Glover (sic), “wafted his putrid stench upon our culture, a culture he helped homogenize and propagandize” (this from the guy who signed up for Like Mike and Charlie's Angels). I myself probably skip as many of his new releases as I see but I cannot take cheap shots at his body of work or his skills as a filmmaker. Minority Report was top-notch and his last film, Munich, even with the WTF sequence towards the end, is a masterpiece that time will be very kind to; maybe someday people will wish it had won Best Picture instead of fucking Crash. I know he pops between these lofty heights and The Terminal, but the career work is worthy of a Cinematheque series as much as that of Lynch or Scorsese... let the comments flamewar begin.

Crackhouse Multiplex

Another great moment from the history of Cannon Films - from the British release of their late eighties thriller Crack House, here is star Richard Roundtree introducing the film with a public service announcement about not doing crack, while settling back in a teensy, empty little multiplex theatre with springy seats.

Eastern Provinces

My friend Gordon informed me that Juno has just opened in South Korea, and is the first Canadian film that he can remember playing there since The Red Violin (didn't you guys get A History of Violence or The Barbarian Invasions? What about Les Boys?)

The Genies, the Canadian Oscars, are on next week, and Juno, despite being shot in Vancouver with a Canadian director, star and crew, is ineligible for any awards as the financing was American, whereas Cronenberg's Eastern Promises, with American and Australian leads, a London backdrop and an British crew, was partly financed by Canadians and therefore enjoys 12 nominations.

This nationalistic dilemma could have been addressed by the Canadian Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences if they had deigned to nominate the soundtrack to Juno for a Juno award this spring...could this be a job for a write-in ballot campaign?

I took the photo to your upper right outside a video store in Buenos Aires - it was prominently displayed on the racks in most of the rental shops I checked out...

Walking With Lee

Let's take a walk down Valhallavägen...

M.I.A.

Star-filter-saturated musical number from 1982's Disco Dancer - the sample may ring your bell.

Romney, We Hardly Knew Ye...

Well, Mitt Romney is out. He said he's leaving the presidential race for the good of the nation, because if he was in any way responsible for the GOP losing the election that would be tantamount to giving the terrorists the upper hand. This is all psuedo-bad news for all the right-wing talk radio blowhards who have been backing his fading candidacy, saying they would vote for Hillary Clinton if McCain was their party's standard-bearer, purportedly because she's more conservative than he is, even though they must know that raging against the ruling Clintons is actually their bread-and-butter.

Well, David Letterman should be good tonight - his nightly skewering of Romney has been a spectacular run of scorched-earth hilarity - and further proof that Mitt's a rich man, as all these wicked burns have been at his expense.

Don't worry about Mitt, if this presidential thing doesn't work out he can always go back to playing Victor Newman on The Young and the Restless. Mitt Romney doesn't look like a president, he looks like a ringmaster. Mitt looks like a guy wearing a golf shirt in an Eddie Bauer catalogue. He looks like the desk clerk at a Peninsula Hotel who tells you your room's not ready. Mitt looks like the guy at a party who gives you his card. He looks like a tennis pro at a restricted country club. He looks like a Jet Blue pilot who comes out to greet the passengers during the delay. Mitt Romney looks like the guy who says to the contestant, 'We're out of time, can you come back tomorrow?'

The Florida retirees didn't go for that Mitt Romney, either. He reminded them of a guy who tries to get a hold of their nest egg. He reminded them of a guy who sells subdivisions in the Everglades. He reminded them of the guy who pitches overpriced cemetery plots. He reminded them of the pharmacist who doesn't accept their prescription plan.

How about that Mitt Romney, am I right about this guy? I mean, he looks like the guy on TV selling life insurance, doesn't he? He looks like that guy on a Father's Day ad for Norelco. He looks like a guy on cable urging you to tap your home equity. He looks like an American President in a Canadian movie. He looks like the medical expert in a Victoria Principal infomercial. He looks like the spokesman for senior lending networks. He looks like the guy who promises accident victims he'll get the money they deserve. He looks like the guy on the 'Just For Men' bottle. I mean, this guy looks like he'd be selling fruit dehydrators on cable. He looks like the guy who tells you how to buy real estate with no money down. He looks like a cosmetic surgeon who gets ambushed on 60 Minutes. He looks like the photo that comes with the frame... By the way, if Mitt Romney is elected, he'll be the first president ever sworn in on a copy of GQ.

What about that Mitt Romney? He looks like a guy who would run a seminar on condo flipping. He looks like the neighbor who spends way too much time on his lawn. Mitt Romney looks like he is the closer at a Cadillac dealership. Mitt Romney looks like that guy on the golf course in the Levitra commercial.

We're all very proud of Mitt. He's the only presidential candidate to come from the Channel 2 news team. Let's throw it over to Mitt and see what's going on in the weather. He looks like the guy that would approve your check at a supermarket. He looks like the piano player at an upscale department store. He looks like a guy who winks when he shakes your hand. He looks like a guy who is married to an over the hill actress. He looks like a guy who would brag about his cholesterol. He looks like the owner of the steakhouse who keeps interrupting dinner to find out how things are going...

He looks like a lawyer who advertises on the back of a bus. This guy, he looks like an American actor who's popular in Germany. He looks like a contractor you'd have to sue, this Mitt Romney. He looks like the neighbor with the neat garage, that Mitt Romney. You remember Mitt Romney from the '80s? He was Mr. Goodwrench.

Mitt looks like a guy modeling briefs on a package of underwear. Mitt looks like a guy who said he met Marge on eHarmony. Mitt looks like a guy who goes to the restroom when the check comes. Mitt looks like a guy who tries to sign you up for Herbalife. He looks like a golf commentator fired for an off-the-cuff remark...

Air Scopitone

You Are Now Free To Move About The Cabin

Baby, It's Cold Outside

What better way to hot things up on an icy-cold winter's night with some lurid imagery from the fevered imagination of Harold Robbins?


Trailer for The Carpetbaggers (1964).



Fashion show from The Adventurers (1970).

Soviet Oscars!

One thing that has been interesting about the writers' strike in the States is how management's refusal to get back to the bargaining table has wound up imposing a quasi-Soviet gloom on the entertainment industry. Sunday night's televised Golden Globes ceremony was kind of like a 1988 Cold War awards show with a Hollywood touch, with no jokes and glammed-up TASS reporters as the presenters. (Come on, weren't there any right-wing movie stars with enough cojones to stride through a picket line and rip open some envelopes?) It's amazing that the industry is choosing to go forward with awards season in the midst of the strike, pretending that this dourness is the best possible way to do things instead of just sending out a press release like in wartime. The old adage must be true: The Show Must Go On.

Here is clip from Hollywood Foreign Press Association's Televised Conference / Awards Ceremony - category is Best Original Musical Song From Feature-Length Movie Film For Theatres. Loving usage of oppressive roomtone.



Will the Academy Awards be this amazing? Will they fly in Gorbachev to give out the Best Picture award? Will they finally give Sergei Eisenstein his special lifetime achievement Oscar?

This Is Not Your Mother's CBC

Says the latest full-page ad touting the launch of the Mothercorp's Winter Prime-Time Schedule, and they are not kidding. I guess the bad news is CBC 2.0 won't be bringing us anything along the lines of SCTV, The Kids In The Hall or Donald Brittain-calibre documentaries, then.

CBC has recently seemed to me to be about three or four years behind most TV trends. Their biggest ratings hit of late, Little Mosque on the Prairie, bears more than a passing resemblance to Corner Gas, a successful CBC-esque show airing on the private broadcaster for three or four years now.

This season, CBC has:

- their own 24 (The Border, with lots of Kiefer-meets-David Caruso squinting through Raybans, jittery shots of computer monitors, gunmetal grey interrogation rooms, dialogue revolving around the phrases "intel" and "satellite uplink" and gunfights in parking lots with shutter-strobe photography.)

- their own Footballers' Wives (MVP: The Secret Lives of Hockey Wives): bare bums in the locker room and flashes of boobies after 9 PM! Here's a telling quote from one of the actresses on the show (italics mine): “I remember my jaw dropping when the script for the pilot had a sex scene that involved double-teaming. It never shows that happening, but I remember going, ‘What? For the CBC, a threesome is pretty risqué!'”

- a Reality Bites-esque Gen-Y comedy called J-Pod billed wincingly as "a full terabyte of dysfunctional" but which at least has Alan Thicke as a sleazy dad. That still won't be enough, though.

- their own wacky one-woman Sex In The City called Sophie (itself a remake of a Quebec sitcom) which seems to have incorporated every Cosmo cliché imaginable without irony: the gay best friend, the domineering mother, etc. The tagline for the show is "And the craziness hasn't even begun!", which I imagine they can use for the entire run of the series.

Well, at least it's writers strike reruns in the States and that will allow these shows a rare chance to be seen. And whether or not it all works out, I guess this means maybe in 2010 the CBC will have an ersatz Desperate Housewives or Entourage to push, perhaps while mocking the kind of shows they are running now.

Hey, and what's wrong with the old CBC anyway? It was awesome! I think the braintrust ignores this at their peril.

Write What You Know, Brisseau

The ever-shrinking world of French filmmaker Jean-Claude Brisseau has just shrunk a bit further... in 2002 Brisseau made the deeply cynical male-gaze extravaganza Secret Things, an erotic thriller about two women using their sexuality to move up the corporate ladder. Upon the film's release, Brisseau was charged by two actresses who auditioned for the film with sexual assault (he had asked them to masturbate before his camera as part of the audition, you see). He was found guilty and received a suspended sentence.

His follow-up film, 2006's The Exterminating Angels, is an even sleazier film about a film director who makes a film about female eroticism, hiring young actresses to audition by masturbating in front of his camera who then turn around and accuse him of sexual assault. And lo and behold, last month Brisseau was accused by two more actresses who said he sexually assaulted them during the auditions for this newest film.



Brisseau, who in real life looks like the Paramount Pictures mountain if it wore a leather jacket, denies these latest charges. This is just a guess, but I think Brisseau's next film will be about a filmmaker making a film about a filmmaker making a film about female eroticism who hires women to masturbate in front of the camera who will then accuse him of sexual assault, only to be charged himself with sexual assault.



(Thanks, Andréa, for the update - I'm now obsessed.)

Buenos Aires In Trailer Form

Upchuck Taylors

This might be the most tasteless tribute to Kurt Cobain yet (and that's saying something); this spring Converse, in honour of their 100th anniversary, will be issuing a limited edition line of Kurt Cobain one-star sneakers.

Okay, granted, they are slightly similar to the pair he was wearing when he killed himself, but let's not dwell on that too much. Besides, never underestimate the power of the Insensitivity Dollar: it's a big market, and his estate is wise to capitalize on it.

Is David O. Russell The American Nostradamus?

I'm starting to wonder.

In 1999 he makes Three Kings, a period piece when it was made that also acts as a commentary on current US involvement in the Middle East. To wit:


And if that wasn't prescient enough for you...


Then a few years later he makes an existentialist post-9/11 screwball comedy called, of all things, I Heart Huckabees. Now go turn on CNN.



So if you're wondering what will happen in America in 2012, here's the synopsis of his next project, Nailed (now in pre-production, according to the IMDB:

A political satire in which Jessica Biel plays Sammy Joyce, a socially awkward receptionist who gets hit in the head with a nail in an accident. This triggers her wild, sexual urges which causes her to fight in Washington for the rights of the bizarrely injured. She meets an immoral congressman (Jake Gyllenhaal) who takes advantage of her sex drive and capitalizes on her crusade as Joyce heads into her own career in politics.

You can't deal with his infinite nature, can you, America?

French Pop Holiday

This goes out to those who are still enjoying the holidays...Sheila et ses amis...