How Don Draper Destroyed Our Marriage.

Now that we’ve finally delved into “Mad Men,” we have firsthand experience of the seductive charms of one Don Draper. He wears great suits. He’s top dog at the negotiating table. He’s mysterious and tight-lipped about his past. He gets $2500 bonuses just because. He’s got a smokin’ hot wife and two kids at home, yet he still keeps a mistress (or two, if you count his courtship of Rachel Menken) on the side. Whether this makes him a likable character is subject to debate, but it certainly makes him a compelling one.

It’s time to add one more female conquest to his list: Erin Vore. When I (Ben) came home from work yesterday, my wife was sitting on the couch. There was a remote in her hand. The television was on but the screen was blank. She smiled at me guiltily but said nothing. An awkward silence of about five seconds ensued. Finally I said, “So are you going to keep watching or should I leave?” This made her indignant. “What are you suggesting?” she asked, feigning outrage. I walked over to the DVD player and pressed “play.” Don Draper materialized on the screen, taking a luxurious pull on his cigarette. “How did that get there!” she protested. “How indeed,” I said.

Erin’s proclivity for watching ahead of me on TV shows has been documented in this space before, but never before have I had a contender for Erin’s affections as magnetic as one Don Draper. Which is why I’m spending my day off studying this tutorial from the one and only. (I could not embed a Hulu video, but here’s a snippet from YouTube to whet your appetite.)

I’ve got my work cut out for me.

x

(Interesting sidenote: “Nathaniel Shnerpus” (Fred Armisen) is engaged to Don’s secretary, Peggy Olsen (Elisabeth Moss).

Marriage And Our Rapid Decline Into Morbid Obesity

Couples who live together are more than twice as likely to become obese than those who live separately, new research shows. Penny Gordon-Larsen, associate professor of nutrition at the University of North Carolina, said … people living together – married or not – tended to eat meals together, possibly cooking bigger meals or eating out more often than they did when they were single.  - The Telegraph, June 12 

 

[Entry from Erin's journal, 8/14/04] 

Getting married today! I’m so glad I found a man who cares about his physical health as well as regular exercise and sensible eating. We agreed we’ll join the Y next month. (Couples discount!) I am certain that marriage will lead to a shared, lifelong commitment to healthy living!

[Entry from Ben's journal, 8/19/04]

We climbed Grouse Grind on day five of our honeymoon here in Vancouver. No taking it easy on the beach for us! 2.9 km basically straight up (a 853 meter elevation gain). For fun, we took the tram back down and then ran up the mountain the second time. Erin beat me by a nose, but we both clocked in under 40 minutes. I love a woman who’s in better shape than I am!

[Entry from Erin's journal, 9/14/04]

One month down! Marriage is off to a good start, although I’m eating more than I anticipated. Need to remind myself that I don’t need to keep up with Ben. Also to keep my portion sizes down. I know I can do it!

[Entry from Ben's journal, 10/21/04]

Weighed in at 180 this morning, up 15 lbs. from wedding day. I guess we have been eating out a lot lately. And it’s been harder to exercise than I thought. Next week I’ll definitely sign us up at the Y. 

[Entry from Erin's journal, 12/26/04]

Our first Christmas together as a married couple. Everything was beautiful. Ben did gorge himself on the Christmas turkey, then put back an entire pie for dessert. Father cheered him on for seconds and thirds but appeared repulsed after sixths and sevenths. I was brushing my teeth tonight when he got on the scale. I sneaked a look: 209 lbs. That’s up almost 50 from the wedding. Oh well. There’s more of him to love, I guess. 

[Entry from Ben's journal, 3/23/05]

We celebrated Erin’s birthday at Golden Corral. I thought it a curious choice until I saw the all-you-can-eat buffet. Two please! But while I found the restraint to stop after four trips, Erin went back for nine helpings. After the seventh I said, “Honey, maybe you should slow down and let things settle” when she snapped, “Maybe you should shut your trap, lardo — it’s my birthday!” When we got home she finished both Ben & Jerry’s pints in the freezer. I had been hoping for at least one of them.

[Entry from Erin's journal, 11/24/05]

Thanksgiving, our favorite day of the year! Despite the fact we’re both over 200 pounds now (Ben is pushing 300), we felt like we could indulge a little (or, in Ben’s case, a lot). It was poor taste for Ben to push my nephew Timmy out of the way for the last piece of pumpkin pie, but Timmy can be a brat sometimes. Mother said she was disturbed by the way Ben sat in the corner gnawing on that pile of turkey bones. “I thought you two were joining a gym,” she said. “What, and cut back on our ten hours of TV a day?” I shot back. On the way home we stopped at Honeybaked Ham and rooted through the garbage out back. Mmmmmmmm!

[Entry from Ben's journal, 1/1/06]

New Year’s Resolutions: 

1. Finally join the Y.
2. Get back under 430 pounds.
3. Fit into those stretch-waist pants again. 
4. Stop using those motorized carts to get around the mall. (Erin says it’s time to suck it up and just walk.)
5. Submit online application for The Biggest Loser.

Here’s to a healthier 2006!

[Entry from Erin's journal, 1/10/2006]

We adopted a cat! His name is Scooter Thomas and he makes us feel better because he’s a little rotund. Plus the vet said his percentage of body fat was 82%. No way we’ll ever get that obese!

[Entry from Ben's journal, 9/9/06]

Worst birthday ever. Erin (all sanctimonious because she hasn’t gained triple figures since January) suggested we just get the salad bar at Ruby Tuesday’s. “That’s a terrible appetizer, but okay,” I told her. That’s the whole meal, she said. “Ha ha,” I said. Fight ensued. Later we sat at separate tables at DQ and drowned our sorrows with ice cream cakes. I had seven.

[Entry from Erin's journal, 10/17/06]

Sometimes I look at Scooter Thomas and think he’s judging me. So what if I’m tipping the scales at 340? Still, maybe we shouldn’t have laughed so hard when his substantial girth prevented him from jumping on the bed. Confession: Some nights I can’t fall asleep because I’m afraid he’ll eat me.

[Entry from Scooter Thomas's journal, 10/18/06]

Boy do I have some fat owners. Their corpulence disgusts even me.

[Entry from Ben's journal, 11/16/06]

Woe is me. Mr. Scale says I’m 507 pounds. Stupid Know-It-All Scale. I thought I could hold off the 500 mark until at least December, but I guess going to White Castle every day for the past three months hasn’t helped. And darn Taco Bell and their “Fourth Meal”! I started setting my alarm at 2:40 a.m. so I can get a half dozen chimichangas before the drive-thru closes at 3. I wish they wouldn’t skimp on the salt though. 

[Entry from Erin's journal, 3/23/07]

I put my foot down and told Ben we had to join the Y. He said it’d be a birthday gift, so we went today but he couldn’t fit through the sliding doors. I inquired about local gyms with wider entrances. Little teenage punk working the desk gave me this holier-than-thou, I’m-not-410-pounds look before responding, “I think all entrances are the same size, m’am.” Outside, Ben had fallen down and couldn’t get up. I rolled him to the car and strapped him on top.

[Entry from Ben's journal, 7/6/07]

Terrible check-up. The doc said my body fat percentage is 103%! I told him I didn’t think that was possible. “Neither did I,” he said, shaking his head. He kept looking at the tests and furrowing his brow, then he looked at the CT scans and started dry-heaving. (I hate it when he does that.) I dread the thought of seeing Scooter Thomas tonight. He knows. He always knows.

[Entry from Erin's journal, 12/25/07]

Terrible Christmas. Family tensions are through the roof. Ben broke his chair when he sat down, which didn’t help. Worst moment: When Aunt Betty’s bowl of cranberry sauce disappeared and turned up twenty minutes later in the folds of Ben’s stomach. (Father was not pleased.) Later, while watching Family Man, somebody said, “Where’s Aunt Betty?” “Someone check Ben’s stomach flab,” Uncle Mort said. (I hate Uncle Mort.) A thorough search revealed Aunt Betty was not there, although we did find what looked like some half-eaten Cadbury eggs from Easter. Later Aunt Betty turned up in the couch cushions. (Ben accidentally sat on her.)

[Entry from Ben's journal, 5/1/08]

I can honestly say I didn’t expect marriage to be this hard. Or that 1000 pounds would make it so difficult to fit into the car. We bought a forklift to get me around town. I hate it that my cat judges me.

[Entry from Erin's journal, 9/2/08]

Oprah called. She wanted us to be guests on her show. “What’s it about?” I asked. “Couples who collectively weigh a ton,” she said. “Will there be hard questions and tears and forgiveness and reconciliation and more tears?” I asked. “You betcha,” she said. “Let me call you right back,” I said. I ran outside and couldn’t find Ben, but when I came back in he was rooting through the fridge. “You’ll never believe it!” I said. “We’re going to be on Oprah!” “Great!” he said. “I just have to call her back right away,” I said. “Oh,” Ben replied, suddenly looking downcast. “What is it?” I asked. “I ate the phone,” he said. 

[Entry from Ben's journal, 10/3/08]

Mr. High And Mighty Scale said I’m 1,593 pounds. I hate him. HATE him. I took him outside and ran over him with the tractor Erin uses to pull me around town. The last laugh is mine, jerkface!

[Entry from Erin's journal, 1/1/09]

New Year’s Resolutions:

1. Join the Y with or without fat ass husband.
2. Get back under 600 pounds.
3. Wipe that look of smug superiority off Scooter Thomas’s fat face.
4. Buy a bigger tractor and holding pen to transport Ben around town.
5. Apologize to Scooter Thomas. He looks too tasty to be mad at.

[Entry from Scooter Thomas's journal, 4/12/09]

My owners are going to eat me. Absolutely, positively no doubt in my mind. I fear for my life. 

[Entry from Ben's journal, 6/17/09]

Scooter Thomas ran away sometime last week. It’s a shame. I found a great grilled cat recipe. Guess I’ll have to eat the Cincinnati Zoo instead.

This Day in Vore History: May 28, 2003

Part three of a four-part series recounting the romantic origins of Voreblog. Part one and Part two.

 

On June 2, 2003 — the day after Erin Beers flew back to Nashville after a five-day trip to Pittsburgh to visit Ben (and attend Mike and Beth Werkheiser’s wedding) — Ben cracked open his journal and wrote, “I think Erin Beers made a mistake.” He considered this for a while, reading and re-reading those seven words, before adding, “It’s not an irrevocable mistake. I am still confident of that.”

——————

Six days earlier, on Tuesday, May 27, 2003, Ben awoke with a ruthless headache. He was home in State College, PA, to celebrate Memorial Day with the family. It wasn’t much of a celebration though, as he spent most of the day in bed with a fierce migraine. He went to sleep Monday night thinking it couldn’t get worse. He woke up Tuesday and it was.

Ben’s parents refused to let him drive back to Pittsburgh that day, not that Ben would’ve attempted it. But Ben had to find a way to be at the Pittsburgh International Airport by 12:57 p.m. on Wednesday, the 28th, the time at which Erin Beers would be landing for a five-day visit. The ostensible reason for the visit was a wedding. Mike and Beth Werkheiser, camp friends, were to be wed in Beaver, PA, that Saturday. Erin returned her invite with the “and guest” box checked, then booked her trip. She’d spend four days in Pittsburgh prior to the wedding, then fly back to Nashville the following day. All Ben had to do was be there.

——————–

Ben woke up on Wednesday and felt like a human being again. He drove back to Pittsburgh that morning, and three hours in the car allowed him ample time to plan out the crucial details of Erin’s reception. Ben plotted what album would be playing when Erin got in the car (Gemma Hayes, Night on the Side). (Ben had visually associated Gemma and Erin since he thought they looked alike. Plus he had a crush on Gemma. Plus Ben hoped Erin would pay special attention to the lyrics of song three on the album, “Let A Good Thing Go,” a lament for, as the title suggests, letting a good thing go.) He visualized which details of the youth room at Shadyside Presbyterian he would point out to her, details which — if carefully selected — would evoke shared memories of the prior summer at Summer’s Best Two Weeks when Erin and Ben met as co-counselors of the kitchen crew, comprised of twenty-some high schoolers who occasionally did bone-headed yet endearing things like try to mail camp forks to friends (this is you, Chris Tolles) or parade around camp during optional playing the bagpipes (in kilts, no less). Ben was concerned about the state of his apartment, which he had not had time to prep given his delayed return from State College. Had he accidentally left his frog-print boxers in the common room? Carefully arranged his Paste magazines on the coffee table as potential conversation-starters? And the right books beside them? And the right CDs? He’d have to wing it when they walked through the door, assessing the situation like a field commander and moving like a hawk to correct any incriminating details that might suggest he was not boyfriend-worthy.

By day’s end, an event Ben had anticipated for so long (Erin! in Pittsburgh!) came and passed … normally. When Ben spotted Erin at the airport, all the little details of her face, hair, build, gait came back instantly. When they toured Shadyside, Ben feared that the youth room — rather than inducing camp nostalgia — may have alternately raised Erin’s potential doubts of Ben as the stereotypical churchy youth pastor. When they reached the apartment, Erin — tired from her trip — dozed on Ben’s bed and drooled on his pillow. That night, after Ben dropped Erin off at a friend’s house in Squirrel Hill where she would be staying for her visit, he drove back down Negley Hill and saw — as he always did from that hill, when he was paying attention — a panoramic view of Pittsburgh at night, stretching far and wide in all directions. One other detail Ben had incorporated into the day was the glorious view of Pittsburgh that greeted drivers emerging from the Fort Pitt Tunnel, a view most spectacular at night but even at midday still a pretty good way to introduce the Steel City to a visitor. (Pittsburgh is “the only city with an entrance,” sayeth the New York Times.) When they had emerged from the tunnel that afternoon, Ben rolled down his window, stuck his head out and yelled, “She’s expecting big things, city!” He repeated that line, alone in his car, with slightly less gusto, as he descended Negley Hill that night.

——————-

The template for the next two days started with leisurely mornings spent sipping coffee at Jitters on Walnut Street (Ben, in his pre-coffee days, getting a chai instead), enjoying a light breakfast, then going for a long walk or run. This was still three months before Erin, running for the first time with Ben in Nashville, nearly blacked out from a combination of fatigue and nerves, the latter being the result of her fear that she couldn’t keep up with a boy. While Erin sat down on the 21st Avenue sidewalk to regroup, Ben — slightly panicked and doused in sweat — ran into the nearest convenience store. “My girlfriend almost passed out and I need to get something for her,” he told the clerk. “Are you going to pay for it?” the clerk asked. “I don’t have money,” Ben said as he grabbed the closest granola bar and apple juice. “I’ll come back and pay you, honest.” The clerk shook his head. “You can’t take both,” he said. Ben put the granola bar on the counter. “Ok,” the clerk said — resigned, probably, to taking $1.09 out of his paycheck as the price to pay for enabling a possibly life-saving intervention, if not an unusual new shoplifting technique.

But, again, this act of small heroism would not transpire for another three months.

On Thursday, Ben and Erin drove south and east to visit Fallingwater, then to Ohiopyle, another site intended to evoke fond shared memories. (Camp rafting trips down the Youghiogheny River launched from Ohiopyle.) They parked at Cucumber Falls and hiked downstream to Cucumber Rapids where they found a big, flat rock to stretch out on and just rest, eyes closed, below the sun. On Friday they explored the Warhol Museum with its balloon-filled rooms and Campbells soup can trinkets in the gift shop, then sauntered around the North Shore and its wading pools. They talked of the upcoming summer at camp, when Erin would return for two terms (a month) and Ben would overlap for two of those weeks, his first — and only — post-youth ministry plans once he wrapped up four years at Shadyside. Where he would move that August — be it Nashville or Chicago or, less likely though still a possibility, out West to regions unknown — was still up in the air. Ben hoped to have a better idea after Erin’s visit if there was a green light on Nashville. But for the first three days of Erin’s stay, no talk ventured too far down that uncertain path. 

——————-

Neither Ben nor Erin remember much about the wedding, except that they were slightly late arriving because — depending on who you asked — the driver either missed a turn or the navigator misread the map. This would prove to be a harbinger of things to come.

What both remember happened after the wedding, in Ben’s car, parked on Elmer Street just outside his apartment, with the engine off but the power still on so Erin could enjoy the smell of a Honda Civic’s A/C, its own little aromatic madeleine. It started raining, first a drizzle and soon a downpour. Inside, Ben and Erin were still all decked out (though Erin had removed her shoes and put her aching feet on the dash), both reclined with their seats back, watching the rain patterns on the windshield and talking, finally, about where they stood. (The kids today refer to this as the DTR conversation.)

Erin said she didn’t see a green light when she thought about a relationship with Ben. It’s not that there’s another guy in the picture, she said. It may be about the timing, she said. Everything lines up, she added, ticking off items: musical and artistic interests; athletic interests; shared religious beliefs. That’s what I’m looking for in a guy, she said, almost apologetically. But no green light.

I’ve never met this Green Light guy, Ben thought, but God help him if he ever crosses my path…

Ben had a hard time believing Erin. He considered the evidence from the past three days and saw only good things. He couldn’t bring himself to believe Erin wasn’t feeling something good too, although there was always that nagging doubt — cultivated from numerous misreadings of relationships past — that Ben simply didn’t get it the way other people got it on matters of the heart.

That’s when Erin said, There’s something else. She told Ben he had always been a good thing in her life, and it occurred to her that this may be something to consider.

“I don’t think it was just my optimism that wanted to hear ‘yes’ when Erin said ‘no’,” Ben journaled after the fact. “I think it’s because her ‘no’ was a ‘yes’ in the making.”

Later, both of them would recount the other doubts that went unspoken that night in the car. Erin’s visit had reminded Ben, who had been single for quite some time, what the harder parts of a relationship might be: the listening, the yielding, the silences. Erin, for her part, had some misgivings both large — about what Ben would be now that he was done being a youth pastor — and small — about some of Ben’s fashion tastes, particularly his choice of black suede dress shoes for the wedding. (This would fester in silence until, a month after they were married, Ben saw those shoes and certain other items from his closet in a Goodwill pile Erin had started. “I could let it slide until we were married,” Erin said. “Now I’ve got to put my foot down.”) 

Because they could not talk about “us” before an “us” existed, Ben and Erin had the more immediate conversation about where Ben would move in three months. Nashville? And if so, to do what? And for what reasons? Neither one suspected that the fragile possibility of a relationship could survive the expectations that would come with Ben moving to Nashville for no other reason than that Erin was there. Ben found himself wondering, Where would I be and what would I do if Erin Beers wasn’t in the picture? Would I be doing us harm by moving to Nashville? Is it really just a matter of timing, and we just hit it wrong?

——————-

The first letter Erin wrote to Ben after returning to Nashville included a folded copy of the cover of New York magazine’s June 9, 2003 issue. The headline reads “What Are You On?” above a counter of pills, ranging from Paxil and Zoloft to Ritalin, Viagra and Vicodin. Such was one outcome of their visit: Mental health issues were not just out in the open now, but fodder for comic relief. “Yeah! Drugs!” Erin scribbled on the cover. This was the kind of thing they couldn’t have joked about nine months ago.

“It’s fun to spy on your life and to put together a few more pieces to the puzzle of knowing you and not knowing you at all,” Erin wrote in her letter. That’s before the missive went completely bipolar. Erin first wrote, “I stand behind everything I said to you last week … I cannot say things to you that I don’t fully mean & have you move here & then be disappointed,” then — half a page later — “When I think about you possibly moving here and having things go well and I imagine us together or whatever, it makes me think that it would be final. You would be it. If we dated then we’d probably get married, pros & cons. And that FREAKS ME OUT. I wouldn’t want you to be someone on a list of failures.” Later in the letter she wrote, “When I think about the future, I know I’d be happy with you. There isn’t one good reason why I wouldn’t be.” 

——————–

Ben would not receive that letter until after he saw All The Real Girls at The Harris Theater downtown. He saw it alone, as he usually preferred. The film is a beautiful, note perfect account of all-consuming young love in a small North Carolina mill town. It is brutal, and it is honest. “I just want to make sure that a million years from now I can still see you up close and we’ll still have amazing things to say,” Paul (Paul Schneider) tells Noel (Zooey Deschanel) in one scene. It is a line that only the very young could say and mean. 

Leaving the theater, all Ben could think about was Erin. He was sad and forlorn and elated and confused all at the same time. He was in love and didn’t know if he was loved back. Standing on top of the Smithfield Street parking garage, Ben called Erin to tell her he’d just seen the film and how much he’d enjoyed seeing her and how he couldn’t wait for camp in less than two months. That was it. It was a good conversation. And the next day Erin mailed the letter.

Friday Recommends/Disrecommends: Starting and/or Finishing Movies Without Your Spouse

Today we tackle the sensitive marital topic of whether or not to finish watching a movie — by yourself — that you began watching with your spouse but did not finish. Or: Starting and finishing a movie — by yourself — that your spouse may have rented with the intent of watching it together. Or: Watching ahead on TV DVD sets. 

 

BEN: DISRECOMMENDS

Seriously, you can’t wait for me?

We began this journey together. I drove to Blockbuster and called to see if you wanted to watch Body of Lies, Ghost Town, Forgetting Sarah Marshall or Australia. You said you were in a light-hearted comedy mood, so I went with Ghost Town. What could go wrong with Ricky Gervais*? (Plenty, it turns out — but we’ll blame Greg Kinnear.)

We watched forty, maybe fifty minutes before you conked out on the couch. Who can blame you? It was bad. You were tired. We’d both put in a long day. We went to bed.

Then, three days later when I suggested we put our heads down and barrel through (it was due back that night), we started watching for five minutes when you got that sheepish, guilty look on your face. You said, “What if I told you…”

“That you’re PREGNANT??” I said. I was absolutely convinced those were the next words out of your mouth, while at the same time baffled that you would choose this moment, halfway through Ghost Town, which we both knew was terrible though neither of us had said that out loud yet, to tell me that Scooter Thomas would one day have a younger sibling.

No, you said. It’s just that I already watched this. Can I just tell you how it ends so neither of us has to suffer?

Oh, my lovely wife, I could overlook this if it had been the first time. But was it the first time? No. Was it the second time? Not even. How many times has this happened before? Let me count them:

• “Dexter,” Seasons 1 and 2
• Pan’s Labyrinth
• “30 Rock,” Seasons 1 and 2
• “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” Seasons 2 and 3
• “Big Love,” Seasons 1 and 2
• “Extras,” Season 2
• “Prison Break,” Seasons 1 and 2
• The Faculty
• The Ballad of Jack & Rose
• “The Sopranos,” Seasons 1-6

 

Are you seeing a trend here?

Marriage is about being joined together. One flesh and all that. But what can I do when you’ve been going behind my back … with movies and TV shows I think I’m sharing with you for the first time? It’s so disillusioning. 

But I am of small account. I will proceed no further. I repent in dust and ashes.

 

ERIN: RECOMMENDS

I can’t help it that you work weird hours. I only have a narrow window of time when I get to relax. And see all those seasons of television.

You know how I am with surprises. I can’t wait! I want to know now! Birthday presents, Christmas presents, secrets — it’s torture! Why do you put me in a situation where I have to endure such temptation? 

Besides, I always watch them again with you. And you wouldn’t know any better if I didn’t tell you. It’s just that Ghost Town was so bad and I couldn’t bear watching it again. 

The real question is: Why are you such a slow-poke meanie?

If I waited for your lazy butt all the time, think of the movies and TV shows we’d never finish. (Answer: All of them.)

I’m like Bob Harper on “The Biggest Loser.” I’m pushing you to be your best. 

Also, when you come home from basketball on Wednesday nights you smell like The Swamp Thing’s crotch.

But I love you!

p.s. Your stromboli was much better tonight.

 

—–

* = Speaking of Ricky Gervais. (h/t Mark Hoobler)

A Twitter Recap of the Most Recent Argument in the Vore Household

We are aware that Twitter feeds usually read chronologically, from the bottom up, but we have inverted the format here for ease of reading.

goodhusband I’m going 2 be a good husband & make dinner 2night. I’m thinking stromboli

bettycrocker Ben must be trying 2 be a good husband 2night because he appears 2 be making something resembling stromboli

goodhusband Wife noticed I’m making stromboli! Bonus points

bettycrocker Husband is absolutely butchering whatever he thinks resembles stromboli

goodhusband Wife does not appreciate my slightly unorthodox stromboli-making technique

bettycrocker Do not appreciate my husband’s very wrong stomboli-making technique

goodhusband Wife will regret 4ever doubting my slightly unorthodox stromboli-making technique

bettycrocker Going 2 take over & prevent my husband from continuing 2 be wrong @ making stromboli

goodhusband Wife has misguided notion that I need help making stromboli. Might reconsider words coming out of her mouth right now

bettycrocker Groaning incredibly loudly so as to break my husband’s will & let me take over the stromboli-making

goodhusband Wife apparently does not want dinner 2night. I guess she is curious what starvation feels like

bettycrocker Husband could not fold dough properly if his life depended on it

goodhusband Wife will deeply regret ever doubting my ability 2 fold dough

bettycrocker Husband shows an appalling lack of concern 4 the insides which are spilling out of the stromboli

goodhusband I could put those insides back in the stromboli much more efficiently w/o my wife’s very loud groaning

bettycrocker Husband is acting like a stooge

goodhusband There, I have restored the insides to the stromboli. Now I will pinch down the sides like so

bettycrocker WHY IS MY HUSBAND PINCHING THE SIDES DOWN LIKE SO??

goodhusband MY WIFE NEEDS 2 GRASP THE FACT THAT IT WILL TASTE JUST FINE REGARDLESS OF HOW I PINCH

bettycrocker Will alert my husband 2 the disaster that is his folding technique by poking open a hole where it is poorly folded

goodhusband Wife is sabotaging the stromboli & needs 2 step away from the oven

scooterthomas When Mommy & Daddy fight I hide under the bed & cry

bettycrocker Husband is quite stingy w/ the garlic salt

goodhusband Wife apparently thinks garlic salt grows on garlic trees & that we need not worry abt garlic salt supply 4 rest of earth’s popul

goodhusband ation (whoops)

bettycrocker Husband is acting like a total stooge

goodhusband Will allow my wife 2 garlic salt the stromboli because she can sometimes be a total stooge

bettycrocker My husband can watch & learn from how I garlic salt this stromboli

goodhusband Was looking forward 2 having stromboli w/ my garlic salt tonight, so this will be wonderful

bettycrocker Glad I intervened & salvaged the stromboli. Husband will feel the same once he tastes how good it is

goodhusband Wife will deeply regret interfering w/ dinner when she tastes how good this stromboli will be. If I decide 2 let her eat any

[10 minutes pass]

bettycrocker Stromboli my husband prepared is actually pretty good!

goodhusband Wife has a way w/ sarcasm!

bettycrocker Husband does not appreciate my honesty and mistakes a genuine compliment 4 biting sarcasm

goodhusband Wife really thinks I did good! I am filled w/ joy & sunshine

bettycrocker Wonder if my husband will be so good as 2 cook stromboli 4 me again?

goodhusband Will have 2 think long & hard on this matter of whether or not I can ever cook stromboli for my wife again

bettycrocker I think Jeopardy is on now

goodhusband Agree w/ my wife that Jeopardy is on now

bettycrocker I don’t think Jeopardy is on this channel though

goodhusband I ask my wife what we will do about Jeopardy not being on this channel

bettycrocker I am going 2 groan really loudly

goodhusband I am going 2 make my wife stop groaning really loudly because I love her & I want to watch Jeopardy as well

bettycrocker I love my husband because he makes me stromboli & turns the channel 2 Jeopardy

goodhusband I love my wife but I am now going 2 crush her @ Jeopardy

bettycrocker I think my husband believes he will now crush me @ Jeopardy. Will have 2 disabuse him of that notion

scooterthomas My parents are watching Jeopardy so I’m going 2 go hide

Live-Blogging the Oscars

A running diary of last night’s Oscar festivities. But first, our respective favorite Oscar Night memories: 

My (Erin) best Oscar memory by far was 2003. It was my birthday. I was working at the Belcourt Theatre in Nashville. Every year the Belcourt hosted a fancy gala to benefit charity. I got to bartend the evening. We poured many a drink, bid on a silent auction or two, watched the awards on the big screen, and when all was said and done karaoked to Dynamite Hack on stage. Highlight of the evening: I was sitting on a bench and a photographer asked to photograph my “exquisite” ankle. It’s as close to famous as I’ll ever come.  

My (Ben) favorite Oscar memory is when I won Best Supporting Actor for my role as Otto West in A Fish Called Wanda.

 

7:37 p.m. While Barbara Walters asks Mickey Rourke why he destroyed his own career, it occurs to us that we still haven’t seen The Wrestler. Or Revolutionary Road. Or The Visitor. Or several other movies we intended to watch before the Oscars, not simply because we’d be better-informed viewers and would-be diarists but also because we still had every intention of finishing our long-promised “Best of Movies: 2008″ post. (This was as close as we got.) As has been widely commented already, 2008 was not a great year for movies. It may not have even been a good year for movies. We don’t feel especially qualified to make a judgment on that because we watched fewer movies this past year than any year since we’ve been married. We saw very good movies (Slumdog Millionaire, Milk, The Dark Knight, and — depending on which member of Voreblog you ask — The Curious Case of Benjamin Button), we saw less good movies (Quantum of Solace, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, and — we’re being vulnerable here – Yes Man), and we saw two movies we’d classify as terrible: Vantage Point and The Happening. But, again, we left no movie this year thinking, “We just saw a great movie.”*

     We will, however, use this space to make one controversial statement: We think Wall-E was overrated. Saying this out loud has gotten us cursed at by, among others, Matthew Leathers. The first half hour of the movie was close to perfect. But once Wall-E lifts off into space in his quixotic quest to win over EVE, things got pretty conventional and a little boring. We’d definitely recommend seeing it once, but it’s not on par with, say, The Incredibles or Ratatouille. 

     Phew. Glad we got that off our chest.

7:51 p.m.  Matthew Leathers calls us and unleashes such a blue streak of profanity that we have to remind ourselves we’re not in a “Deadwood” episode. 

7:57 p.m.  Hugh Jackman just gave Barbara Walters a lap dance. We’re not joking.

8:04 p.m.  Sarah Jessica Parker appears to be wearing a tent to support what Erin calls her “50 gallon boobs.” A few other fashion snap judgments: Ben on Kate Winslet: “Classy but she’s got Hillary Clinton hair.” Erin on Miley Cyrus: “I secretly love her dress, but since I hate her, I hate the dress.” Erin on Anne Hathaway: “Love her dress. Love her Chiclet-sized teeth. Jealous of her giant boobs.” 

8:17 p.m.  A preview for Nic Cage’s movie The Knowing! Which Nic Cage will show up?

8:27 p.m.  We get uncomfortable whenever a Red Carpet host fails to acknowledge a movie star’s significant other. Three examples so far, all women: Richard Jenkins’s wife gets the snub, as does Jack Black’s wife and Leslie Mann, who was sandwiched between husband Judd Apatow and Seth Rogan. It’s just rude.

8:36 p.m.  Snap judgments on Hugh Jackman’s opening number: Anne Hathaway is a great Nixon; we’re glad someone said out loud that no one has seen The Reader; and nice work plugging Wolverine too. Good start.

8:39 p.m.  Erin immediately spots Daniel Craig sitting behind Frank Langella. One row over, Philip Seymour Hoffman appears to have a black spore eating him from the head down.

8:40 p.m.  Our apologies. It’s a beret. 

8:41 p.m.  Hugh Jackman acknowledges Meryl Streep and her daughter. “Her daughter’s pretty,” Erin says. “She’s thin and pretty. I hate her.” Then, five seconds later, “She’s a tramp.” “What?” Ben asks. “You just said she was pretty.” “Well, pretty in a trampy kind of way.”

8:43 p.m.  Bevin Beers thinks Hugh Jackman is doing a great job so far. The phone conversation ends abruptly with Erin saying, “Oooh! Emile Hirsch! Gotta go.”

8:44 p.m.  Erin on Tilda Swinton: “She always looks like a crazy space god.” On Anjelica Huston: “You could land a plane on her cheekbones.” On Penelope Cruz: “You could also land a plane on her cleavage.” On Goldie Hawn: “Is she drunk? Are her boobs wearing their own dress?” And we both have a crush on Taraji P. Henson. 

8:46 p.m.  We like having past winners present the nominees. Even though some have not aged well.

8:53 p.m.  We both agree Tina Fey has learned much since her Golden Globe fashion debacle, when Erin said she “looked like a busty hobo.”

8:56 p.m.  We’re glad Dustin Lance Black wins Original Screenplay for Milk. He’s one of the writers for “Big Love.” Two of our favorites from the past year.

9:01 p.m.  Simon Beaufoy wins Best Adapted Screenplay. Now boarding the Slumdog Millionaire Oscar train.

9:03 p.m.  Someone just egged our house and smashed our mailbox with a baseball bat. We call Matthew Leathers’s home phone. No one picks up.

9:08 p.m.  We skip out on the Year in Animation tribute to move a load of laundry into the dryer. Ben offers to do this alone so Erin can watch but Erin doesn’t trust him to identify which of her garments cannot be dried. This goes back to an unfortunate episode during our first year of marriage when Ben dried a Banana Republic sweater he had purchased for Erin the week before. (This was not, repeat not, a ploy for Ben to get out of laundry duty.) (Honestly.)

9:09 p.m.  Oktapodi totally gets snubbed for Best Animated Short Film. We’re just about ready to boycott these shenanigans.

9:20 p.m.  A heated argument erupts as to which one of us has worse gas. The vote is a tie. Scooter Thomas is asked to be the tiebreaker but he is off his rocker on the new catnip we sprinkled on his Trader Joe’s Double Wide Cat Scratcher.

9:31 p.m.  Erin on Natalie Portman: “She looks like a sexy bottle of Pepto Bismol.” And we are very amused by Ben Stiller’s Joaquin Phoenix impersonation. 

9:39 p.m.  From the dining room, Erin mistakes Jessica Biel for Catherine Zeta-Jones. We both hate Catherine Zeta-Jones. 

9:44 p.m.  The best moment in Judd Apatow’s short is Seth Rogen and James Franco laughing hysterically during The Reader and Doubt. Sort of like in Naked Gun when Leslie Nielsen and Priscilla Presley couldn’t stop laughing after Platoon. If you’re gonna rip off someone else’s gag, rip off the best.

9:53 p.m.  Three minutes into an interminable Mamma Mia!-inspired musical number. Ben has never been able to stomach musicals. This should be listed as a job requirement on all youth ministry applications. If you’re going to spend time getting to know teenagers, chances are good you’ll end up at more than a few musicals. Oklahoma. Guys and Dolls. Into the Woods. Once Upon A Mattress. The Wiz. Oklahoma. Oklahoma. Oklahoma. If you can’t at least fake like you’re having a good time watching a musical without wanting to rip your eardrums out, take it from me: You should rethink youth ministry.

9:59 p.m.  Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock need to stop making movies. Other stars we would put on this list: 

• Adam Sandler
• Kevin James
• Cuba Gooding Jr.
• Richard Gere
• Gretchen Mol
• Eddie Murphy
• Renee Zellweger
• James Van Der Beek
• Jason Biggs
• Jennifer Aniston
• Dakota Fanning
• Vin Diesel
• Queen Latifah
• Robin Williams
• Mira Sorvino
• Owen Wilson (temporarily, until he regains his sanity)
• Robert DeNiro and Al Pacino (anyone who disagrees with this will be strapped to a chair and made to watch Righteous Kill)
• anyone slated to appear in a future Pirates of the Caribbean

 

10:03 p.m.  Ben is going to run a quick errand to Kroger until he discovers his tires have been slashed. And someone has toilet-papered our lawn.

10:04 p.m.  Still no answer at Matthew’s home phone.

10:08 p.m.  Heath Ledger wins Best Supporting Actor. Voreblog readers are geniuses. 

10:11 p.m.  Erin: “Honey, seriously. I’m going to make you watch upstairs if the stench gets any worse.”

10:15 p.m.  We haven’t seen Best Documentary winner Man on Wire, but Dan Vore loved it. Philippe Petit delivers what will surely be the best acceptance speech of the night. Let’s see Penelope Cruz balance an Oscar on her chin!

10:25 p.m.  Erin: “Who do you think is nicer: Brad or Angelina?” Ben: “I bet neither of them are very nice.” Erin: [gives Ben a disappointed look] “Why don’t you play my games? The correct answer is Brad.”

10:32 p.m.  Erin spots a woman in a fur coat who doesn’t clap when Slumdog Millionaire wins for Best Sound Editing. “What’s her problem? She didn’t start clapping for at least ten whole seconds!” Really, if you get invited to the Academy Awards, you should at least put in the effort and applaud the winners.

10:43 p.m.  Remind us again what Heidi Klum sees in Seal?

10:49 p.m.  Ben cracks a window to air things out a bit.

10:53 p.m.  Danny Elfman does not win Best Original Score for Milk. We’re pissed. This whole thing is turning into a sham.

10:55 p.m.  We wonder if Slumdog haters will soften up given the fact that the most endearing acceptance speeches have been from that movie’s winners. Then two songs from Slumdog get nominated in that category. Seriously? One step forward, three steps back. (And what’s with this anti-High School Musical bias?)

11:00 p.m.  Erin: “Alicia Keys sounds like Maya Rudolph doing Oprah.” 

11:04 p.m.  Ben compliments Erin on her exquisite ankles.

11:11 p.m.  Erin: “Wait, Michael Crichton died?”

11:12 p.m.  Ben: “Wait, Roy Scheider died?”

11:20 p.m.  Danny Boyle locks up Best Director. Goes to show what filming great toilet scenes for a career will get you.

11:28 p.m. Speaking of people who should not be making movies anymore, whatever happened to Halle Berry? Monster’s Ball was, um, awkward. And Swordfish? Gothika? Catwoman? Shouldn’t Academy Awards count for something?

11:30 p.m.  Sophia Lauren scares us out of our pants. Erin: “She’s wearing a red fox on her head.”

11:31 p.m.  Erin: “Kate Winslet is going to win, and she is going to be a crazy, hysterical mess.”

11:33 p.m.  Kate Winslet is a crazy, hysterical mess. But it’s a vast improvement over the Golden Globes. (Why does she always sound like she just ran a marathon?)

11:34 p.m.  What would “Extras” Kate Winslet say about The Reader Kate Winslet? 

11:42 p.m.  While Ben Kingsley salutes Mickey Rourke, Erin cannot help but notice Robert Pattison sitting behind Rourke in the crowd. She apparently knows him well enough to address him as “R-Patts” “R-Patz.” (Ben apologies profusely for not knowing it was Patz with a ‘z’.)

11:45 p.m.  Sean Penn’s hands are visibly shaking as he reads from his thank you list. It’s reassuring to see movie stars and celebrities get nervous. We felt this way when we held up Ted Danson the other week. 

11:47 p.m.  Nice touch for Penn to acknowledge Rourke. Still, we suggest he have a bodyguard escort him to his limo tonight.

11:53 p.m.  Slumdog! Never have so many cute Indian kids accepted a Best Picture award. 

11:57 p.m.  We both agree that Sarah Jessica Parker and Sophia Lauren tied for Worst Dressed. Matthew Broderick is runner-up. Erin gives Best Dressed to Tina Fey. Adrien Brody locks down the “Is He High?” Award. 

11:59 p.m.  Fearless predictions for 2009 Oscars: Anne Hathaway wins Best Actor for Frost/Nixon. A movie about the Holocaust will be nominated for Best Picture. And Christian Bale wins Best On-Set Meltdown. (Imagine the acceptance speech!)

12:03 a.m.  Matthew Leathers is in our front lawn torching squirrels with a flame-thrower. We call the police.

 

Wednesday, February 25, 12:54 p.m.  Hendrik Hertzberg wanders afield and comments on this year’s Oscars. We concur.

—–

* = Erin: “You didn’t think Milk was great?” Ben: “I thought Milk was very good.” Erin: “Well what’s a great movie then?” Ben: “There Will Be Blood.” Erin: “Milk was at least as good as There Will Be Blood.” Ben: [shrugs]. Erin: “You’re a snob.”

Friday Recommends: Not Seeing These Movies On Valentine’s Day

In the current issue of Cincinnati’s alt-weekly CityBeat, staff writer Phil Morehart picks his “movies to avoid on Valentine’s Day” (or, “Love Me Nots”). “Cinema and the holiday d’amour make a perfect match,” Morehart says, before warning,

One thing is certain, however — if the wrong [movie is] chosen, your romantic evening will nosedive. Avoid films dealing with downer subjects or situations that might make you and your partner uncomfortable — strained relationships, infidelity. Take a pass on the new breed of hardcore torture porn as well. You don’t want to spend the evening cleaning the undigested remnants of your romantic dinner off of the floor. 

 

Moreheart goes on to list seven “prime offenders,” several of which might seem to be friendly fare if you knew nothing else about them besides their titles: Husbands and Wives, Scenes From a Marriage, Closer. He’s on his way to a good list, but we’d like to recommend a few more that he — and you — should avoid sharing with a loved one this Valentine’s season.

Monster’s Ball.  Bill Simmons describes the graphic Billy Bob Thornton/Halle Berry sex scene as “absolutely horrifying”: “I don’t think I’ve ever felt more uncomfortable in a room of people in my entire life.” So, if you’re walking through Blockbuster on a first date and your date picks up this movie and says, “I’ve heard this is really good!”, find a clean, expeditious way to jump through a plate glass window.

Requiem For a Dream.  Ditto.

Croupier.  This experience will be especially bad if you’ve really built up the movie beforehand. This movie and Closer are the two exceptions to the rule which says that any woman will jump for joy at the words, “Well it’s got Clive Owen in it!”

House of Sand and Fog.  Are you noticing a trend here? If Jennifer Connelly shows up in your ultimate date movie, odds are very good your relationship is sick and twisted and will end in death. (Reservation Road? Dark Water? Pollock? Little Children? The Day The Earth Stood Still? Folks, none of these movies end well.)

We Don’t Live Here Anymore.  Jennifer Connelly should have been in this movie. Instead, Naomi Watts does her best JC impersonation and everyone cheats on everyone else. This is basically a more pastoral Closer with slightly less foul language. Which is still no excuse to watch it.

21 Grams.  Another Naomi-Watts-doing-Jennifer-Connelly movie where everyone is really anguished and terrible things happen and when it’s over you just feel dirty and then curl up in a fetal position on the shower floor.

March of the Penguins.  Some of the penguins die! DO NOT WATCH THIS MOVIE IF YOU DON’T WANT TO BAWL YOUR EYES OUT!!

Sahara.  Nothing — we mean nothing — is a bigger cinematic cold shower than Matthew McConaughey. You should feel the same about this whether you’re a man or woman.

Funny Games.  You are a depraved individual if this film gets anywhere near your DVD player on Valentine’s Day.

An Inconvenient Truth.  Regardless of how you feel about Al Gore, he should not be your go-to guy when it comes to setting a romantic mood. 

Jonestown. “Hey honey, want to watch a documentary film about religious fanaticism and mass suicide?” “What’s that dear? You’ve chosen to forsake sexual intercourse for the remainder of your time on this Earth?”

There Will Be Blood. Great movie, but in short:  There Will Be No Love Tonight.

The Standard of Perfection:  Show Cats. A PBS documentary about what it takes to win the gold.  This is not a good date movie, unless your last name is Vore.  Then it’s purrrfectly romantic.     

 

Please, for everyone’s sake, fill us in on any we may have missed. And have a happy Valentine’s Day.

The Argument We Had During The End Credits Of Slumdog Millionaire*

[credits begin rolling]

DAN VORE: What else has Danny Boyle done?

BEN: He did Trainspotting.

ERIN: And 28 Days Later. 

BEN: And his last one was Sunshine, which was weird but we liked it.

DAN: I didn’t like that one. That was the one with the sun-monster guy lost in space, right? 

BEN: Yes. We didn’t have very high expectations, so we were pleasantly surprised.

ERIN: We watched it when we were on a big Cillian Murphy kick.

BEN: You mean when you were on a big Cillian Murphy kick?

ERIN: Dan, have you seen Red Eye?

DAN: Yeah, I think I saw it once.

ERIN: Once? That’s it?

BEN: Trust me, you’re not going to appreciate the subtleties of Cillian Murphy’s performance until about the eighth viewing. Right, honey?

ERIN: Oh, you know what else Danny Boyle did? Millions.

BEN: I never saw that one.

ERIN: Yes you did. We saw that together.

BEN: No, you saw it with someone else but it wasn’t me.

ERIN: You mean some other guy who wasn’t my husband?

BEN: I don’t know who it was, but you didn’t see it with me.

ERIN: Yes I DID. You saw the movie. Neither of us liked it.

BEN: How did I not like it if I never saw it?

ERIN: Trust me, you saw the movie. 

BEN: Trust me, I did not see the movie.

ERIN: This is just like how you think I saw that Steve Martin movie with you but I never saw it.

BEN: No you did see it–

ERIN: What was it again? Something like The Tailor of Something. 

BEN: It was The Spanish Prisoner, and you definitely saw it with me.

ERIN: Then how come I can’t remember it?

BEN: Why would I have written it down in my little book if we didn’t see it?

ERIN: Oh, your little book! If it’s inscribed in your little book then suuurrrely it can’t be wrong!

BEN: Erin, I remember us watching it together, and we could go rent it tonight and this is what would happen, we’d start watching it and after about five minutes you’d think to yourself, “Oh, crap, I have seen this before,” but you would deny it until later on when you’d say to me, “Baby, forgive me. I do remember seeing The Spanish Prisoner with you. Specifically in April of 2004, just like it says in your little book which is never wrong. I’m sorry.”

ERIN: You mean, that’s what would happen if we rented Millions?

BEN: I. Haven’t. Seen. Millions.

ERIN: Who else could I have seen it with?

BEN: Did you see it with Brooks?

ERIN: [pauses] It’s possible I saw it with Brooks.

BEN: I think you saw it with Brooks.

ERIN: I think you’re so in love with this Brooks theory that you’re forgetting you actually saw the movie.

[Long, awkward silence as credits finish rolling. DAN, BEN and ERIN are the last three in the theater.]

DAN: So, who wants to use an Olive Garden gift card?

 

—–

* = Which we thought was fantastic. A sure contender for Best of Movies 08. Coming soon!

2008: The Year in Music

Although our music tastes are not nearly as thorough or eclectic as, say, Jerry Grit (whom we consider a kind of indie rock mentor, and who began his own year-long music project here), we’ll do our best to offer a varied list of the Eleven Best Albums of 2008 (and our eleven favorite songs).*

First, a quick note on methodology: Erin, Ben and guest critic Bevin Beers all agreed on our eleven favorite albums of 2008, then individually ranked them (numerically, from favorite [1] to least favorite [11]). Scores are included alongside each review. Ben has lodged an official protest because

THE HOLD STEADY, Stay Positive only gets an “honorable mention” with a score of 26. Erin and Bevin both ranked it 11th, while Ben ranked it 4th. We’ve already had a pro/con on this album, and it nearly ripped our marriage apart. Let’s just go straight to the list.

 

10. FLEET FOXES, Fleet Foxes [24].  It was love at first listen when we heard “White Winter Hymnal.” The first (though least impressive, beard-wise) of four great bearded artists to appear on our list. 

9. VAMPIRE WEEKEND, Vampire Weekend [20].  We are sure to endure the wrath of Mr. Grit himself** for loving this album as much as we do, but our hips just can’t stop shaking to “Cape Cod (Kwassa Kwassa)” or “A-Punk.” Listening to this album again last week after it spent months on the shelf, we’re convinced it’ll hold up well. 

8. CALEXICO, Carried To Dust [19].  It’d be a stretch to say that if Cormac McCarthy wrote music instead of books it’d sound something like Calexico (albiet it with a (slightly) sunnier outlook on life). But they definitely reside in the same geographical terrain. Would Anton Chigurh have Calexico on his iPod? Or would he listen to acid jazz? Probably acid jazz.

7. BECK, Modern Guilt [19].  Danger Mouse jumped on board to produce this one. His beard gets no points, but we dig the hair. Ben is dealing with his Beck inferiority complex better now, thank you.

6. TV ON THE RADIO, Dear Science [18].  Ben’s number one did not fare as well with the Beers sisters. Everyone else – Rolling Stone, Spin and Entertainment Weekly – is anointing Dear Science best of the year. It’s the first TVOTR album that really clicks for us. “Golden Age,” “Halfway Home” and “Lover’s Day” have all received ample airplay on the Vore car stereo. The second of the four great bearded albums of the year.

5. SIGUR ROS, Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust [17].  As close as Sigur Ros will get to releasing a radio-friendly Top 40 album. Right out of the gate, “Gobbledigook” sets a poppy tone while “Inni mer syngur vitleysingur” is a tiny masterpiece that bursts open with a joyful horn explosion. The later half of the album sags, but the first five songs more than make up for it.

4. DR. DOG, Fate [16].  Bevin’s favorite album of the year scored decently with the Vores. The second best thing to come out of Philadelphia (after “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia”). 

3. BON IVER, For Emma, Forever Ago [12].  Bon Iver [a k a, Justin Vernon] pulled an Andrew Bird/Ray Lamontagne and wrote this album at a remote cabin in rural Wisconsin (with only a DVD of Northern Exposure as escape). The runner-up for beards (and cats)!

2. THAO, We Brave Bee Stings And All [11].  Erin’s favorite album of the year. We have Mr. Bescak to thank for introducing us, although Matthew Leathers*** claims he told Ben about it a long time ago. And Ms. Nguyen graced Cincinnati with her presence this year! Yet another reason to love Ohio.

1. BONNIE “PRINCE” BILLY, Lay Down In The Light [8].  The only album to score in the single digits, Lay Down in the Light was no one’s top pick but it scored no lower than three on any list. Was the difference the beard? It is the most impressive of all. And Mr. Oldham’s talents are not limited to the musical realm. Thinking about just how much we played this album this year, we’re comfortable endorsing it at number one. And three of its songs made our favorites list below.

 

MOST DISAPPOINTING ALBUMS OF THE YEAR

MY MORNING JACKET, Evil Urges.  We’ve heard MMJ is great live. We’ve heard this album praised by friends whose tastes we greatly respect. Craig Finn of The Hold Steady told Rolling Stone it was his favorite album of the year. But we just don’t get it. “Highly Suspicious” doesn’t get us excited, it just makes us want to skip to the next song. And why is Jim James writing love songs to a librarian? O-ver-rate-ded (clap clap clapclapclap).

STEREOLAB, Chemical Chords.  We incurred Mr. Grit’s wrath for not liking this album. We know Stereolab are stalwarts. We’re big fans of Sound-Dust. It’s just that this was background music that didn’t have the decency to just fade into the background. Seriously, we’re selling this to the highest bidder.

WOLF PARADE, At Mount Zoomer.  Both Mr. Bescak and Mr. Leathers have made the case that this album grows on you with each listen. And it’s not a bad album. But it doesn’t belong in the same breath as Apologies to the Queen Mary — which we’ll listen to twenty times for every one spin AMZ gets.

 

FAVORITE SONGS OF THE YEAR

“Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It),” Beyonce. If you have not already watched this video, 19,510,835 people have beaten you to it. But someone living in a cave has not. You can still get there first.

“Fated to Pretend,” MGMT.  Here’s a little experiment you can try sometime: Get on the highway and start this song while driving 55 mph. Scientists predict that by the end of it, you will be going 93 mph and have a grin stretching from ear-to-ear. Out of curiosity: Just how many drugs do you think were consumed in the making of this video?

“White Winter Hymnal,” Fleet Foxes.  Insanely catchy and beautiful harmonies in the round. 

“Army of Ancients,” Dr. Dog.  We found no good videos of this song on them there World Wide Webs, so just go buy the album. You’ll also be treated to “Uncovering the Old,” which is no slouch either.

“Walls,” Beck.  No cool video here either, but you can at least listen to the song here.

“Slowness,” Calexico.  And yet another without video. But it’s pretty, trust us.

“Magick,” Ryan Adams & The Cardinals.  The quality’s not great, but these hooks cannot be contained by poor video and sound quality.

“Easy Does It,” “So Everyone” and “I’ll Be Glad,” Bonnie “Prince” Billy.  Every song on this album is well worth a listen, but these three stand out. We found a funky version of “Easy Does It” on YouTube, but it might scare the faint of heart. We will merely link to it with this disclaimer: We prefer listening to BPB rather than watching him. (There’s a big difference.)

“Golden Age,” TV on the Radio.  Is that a chicken playing bass?

(Now, if you haven’t seen it, go watch their Letterman appearance playing “Wolf Like Me.”)

 

Merry Christmas! Best & Worst of Movies coming Friday. Or Saturday! Depending on how much eggnog we consume.

 

—–

* = As with any proper music list, this one goes to eleven.

** = We suspect Mr. Grit would concur with Mike Breen’s assessment of VW in Cincinnati’s alt-weekly CityBeat: “The ‘big album of the year that I just don’t get.’ I hear people say it’s like Paul Simon’s Graceland mixed with Indie Pop. And I always say, ‘That sounds like the music that will be playing if I ever blow my head off with a shotgun.’”

*** = Speaking of Matthew Leathers, his Top 10 music list is here.****

**** = And let’s not forget that Mark Hoobler has already posted his Best of 2008 here.

Quantum of Solace

“If only Erin Vore were a Bond girl…”

A running dialogue with Mark and Katie Andolina during the car ride home from Quantum of Solace:

ERIN: My only complaint is not enough Daniel Craig.

BEN: But he was in almost every scene.

ERIN: Still not enough Daniel Craig. The movie was under two hours! It should’ve been four.

KATIE ANDOLINA: I couldn’t believe you got up to pee during the movie.

ERIN: It was an excruciating decision. I strongly considered just wetting myself.

MARK ANDOLINA: How much was our popcorn anyway? That thing was puny.

KATIE: Four seventy-five.

MARK: Four seventy-five? For three handfuls of popcorn?

ERIN: Why aren’t we still talking about Daniel Craig?

MARK: He’s dreamy.

ERIN: And those eyes! I bet they used special effects to make them that blue.

BEN: I think they used special effects on that lizard in the desert.

KATIE: Really? I thought it looked normal.

BEN: It would be a strange thing to use special effects on. But it sure looked fake to me.

MARK: I wouldn’t want to get an axe between the toes like the bad guy did.

KATIE: I would not want to be drowned alive in crude oil so that my lungs were filled with it.

ERIN: Even if it meant you could spend one night with Daniel Craig?

BEN: Did anyone else think the end of the movie bore an unnerving resemblance to the last ten minutes of Backdraft?

KATIE: What did everyone think of the song?

MARK: I thought it was a waste of three minutes.

ERIN: It was way better than Chris Cornell.

BEN: Or Madonna.

MARK: This doesn’t change the fact it was a waste of three minutes.

ERIN: I still don’t forgive Marc Forster for inflicting us with Monster’s Ball.

BEN: That’d be a terrible movie to see on a first date. Glad that never happened to me!

[Awkward silence. ERIN stares out window before changing subject.]

ERIN: Did you know that Daniel Craig started acting in school plays at the age of six, making his debut in the Frodsham Primary School production of “Oliver!” Here, read these interesting tidbits so you all can keep up with me.

[ERIN hands KATIE a page of IMDB trivia about Daniel Craig.]

KATIE: Did you know the first Bond movie Daniel Craig saw was Live and Let Die with Roger Moore?

BEN: Did you know the first Bond movie I saw was The Living Daylights with Timothy Dalton?

MARK: You can only go up from there.

ERIN: Did you know Daniel Craig was voted Esquire’s “Best Dressed Male” in 2006? Let’s stick to the sheet, people.

KATIE: Ahem. Did you know Daniel Craig is a good friend of supermodel Kate Moss?

[KATIE hands sheet to MARK. Everyone passes it around as they speak.]

MARK: Did you know Daniel Craig is a fan of the Liverpool Football Club?

BEN: This is stupid.

ERIN: Do it!

BEN: DidyouknowDanielCraigis–

ERIN: Slower! So everyone can hear.

BEN [sighs]: Did you know Daniel Craig is more of a man than I’ll ever be?

[Offers sheet to ERIN, who refuses it and recites the rest from memory.]

ERIN: Did you know Daniel’s girlfriend Satsuki Mitchell made her first public appearance at the world premiere of Casino Royale? And that he is the first Bond actor to have been born after the series began? And that he is the shortest actor to play Bond, despite standing at a formidable five feet, eleven inches?

BEN: He’s probably just five nine, they like to exagg–

ERIN: HE IS FIVE ELEVEN.

BEN: [starts crying]

ERIN: He also quit smoking before Casino Royale and is a big fan of Robert Altman films and ranked 29th in The Guardian’s 2008 list of the most powerful people in British culture and he was once incognito at a cinema here in the states and someone asked if he had ever been told that he looks like Daniel Craig.

KATIE: What he’d say?

ERIN: He said no and walked away.

MARK: Ben, do you need tissues or anything?

BEN: I want this car ride to be over.

ERIN: I want to see the movie again. Now.

KATIE: We could, um, walk the rest of the way.

MARK: Katie, we’re still in Loveland.

KATIE: No, really, I’m in the mood for a walk.

MARK: A six mile walk?

ERIN: I love getting together with you guys!