I went to see A Prairie Home Companion the ‘Movie’ again. A truly wonderful film, a cinematic break from the trivial or sensational adaptations we’ve seen in the cinema before. Its altogether different – first off PHC is a radio programme- that really goes out every Saturday on NPR over in the States’, a musical variety show interspersed with the host’s (Garrison Keillor) long tales. He wrote and stars in the PHC Movie, directed by Robert Altman – his final film. Not an obvious choice for hollywood… it was filmed on location at the Fitzgerald Theatre- and seems to be making the rounds in the filmhouse cinemas (here in Scotland) after generally positive reception in America.
The long tales don’t really make it onto the screen although the very documentary style of the first scene – in which Keillor stands in his underpants in the middle of the bustling dressingrooms telling hyperbolic stories of his early days in radio, saving a drowning man from ankle-deep water, clarifying the identity of a pilot in a tangled story about an early transcontinental flight that ditched in a Minnesota lake (after shooting itself down) – does capture a little of his whimsical musings… sadly no “News from lake Wobegon“.
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well tomorrow i start my 9-5 life, validating the selection i have made for years in drop-down boxes for all manner of sign-up forms. tomorrow my occupation really will be “print & design”. that’s enough about work i still have my weekends free, and what a town to be free in.
Edinburgh is one of those pretty cities people come from miles around to walk around and be touristy in. i invite you to do the same and know i have a flat(share) you’ll have to come stay with us. the flat is pretty cool, and located not 10 minutes walk from Prince’s Street. we have a record player and some bobby dylan along with many, many more classics. everything’s fairly spacious and really quite affordable compared to the horror stories i’d heard about living in our capital. i have a view of the castle, arthur’s seat and carlton hill… also a pretty good overview of a grey parking lot and some of the nicest re-developments Leith has to offer.
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What are you talking about, 19. No no, you’ve got it all wrong, I’m 18 in 11 days not 19 *false Basil Fawlty amused laugh*. So Rebecca, Quincy and I were walking down the street, after being kicked out ofthe Kill Bill 2 Screening at “The Belmont” (a pretentious as any “art-house” cinema in Aberedeen) when Quincy starts to go over the plan, the routine, he’llpull to obtain a ticket – and entry to the (very strict about letting 17 year olds into an 18) cinema; the
Lighthouse.The plan is – Quincy will remove his school tie (Belmont guy didn’t get this kitschy fashion statement) and he will obtain the manner of a 20 year old “aw, I’m so hungover and so poor – I’m a student of a university y’know”. Anyway, Rebecca says something about his “school” bag giving it all away, and I agree – throwing in my 10c I tell Quincy I’ll take his schoolbag, it’ll be just fine.Rebecca barked at me “Why? Do you think you’re so obviously over 18 Callum!?”. I liked Saunder’s barkings, not in a weird way – like a clever young mother on the edge of her troublesome two’s kicking off into a “awww, I wanna see some Tarrantino arse kicking”, she’d disarm a pretentious conversation, de-rhetoric your words. Her retorts we’re always on time and always of value (this is starting to sound vaguely obituary-like isn’t it). No matter how much I enjoyed replaying her words through the Dictaphone (joke, that’s a joke) that is / was my 6th year mind. So – anyway, I explain to Rebecca I have ID. Whats-more I am 18. Now, Rebecca gave me a wink-less nod, “so you have fake ID?”.I am 18 I explained. In 11 days, officially (yuck) I’m 19. This is a sad birthday, it may be the first I’m not
looking forward to. What got me though my 16th was Julia’s (completely unexpected) break-time party for 6 we had at the ‘old-school Insch table”. 17th- I had new friends and a new love for Jack Daniel’s and air weapons – which both played there part to a small degree in the humour of that night. 18th, I think I maintained silence enough to be missed by most my friends, but a recycled 18th button and a home-made card made it all
okay. Sara Daniel, Louisa and I share the same Birthday weekend, we are (in) the oldest aged kids on the block back in old-school times. That was fun, and the recycled buttons (for two or three years) came from Louisa, last year we had champagne at Rebecca’s (photos online somewhere) and free-periods in the afternoon. Life was indeed, simple.19. We have agreed to boycott the age 19, personally I’m setting up for a car, word-travel and a wife
by age 25, I’d rather skip the years 19-24 if that’s okay with you. I guess we’re (clitch??d in our ways) bored with growing older, being reminded of
responsibilities, deadlines, money and tax. It’s all dreadfully dull, but you can’t, and I won’t, get stuck in nostalgia. With a passion for living, even just in this 2D word of photography, it’s amazing how easy it is to fall into a belief that things don’t have to change, this is a common Scottish pasttime, it
is the death of civilisation, when concrete sets. When we deny death it’s place, put a sword on a podium, close the gates. It makes me sad. I’m not afraid of the future but getting there’s going to be a bugger.
