New Indiana Jones in2007

'Indiana Jones' to Begin Filming in 2007
Dec 30, 1:02 AM EST
George Lucas said Friday that filming of the long-awaited "Indiana Jones" movie will begin next year. Harrison Ford, who appeared in the three earlier flicks, the last one coming in 1989, is set to star again. Lucas said he and Steven Spielberg recently finalized the script for the film.
"It's going to be fantastic. It's going to be the best one yet," the 62-year-old filmmaker said during a break from preparing for his duties as grand marshal of Monday's Rose Parade.
Exact film locations have not been decided yet, but Lucas said part of the movie will be shot in Los Angeles.
The fourth chapter of the "Indiana Jones" saga, which will hit theaters in May 2008, has been in development for over a decade with several screenwriters taking a crack at the script, but it only recently gained momentum.
Lucas kept mum about the plot, but said that the latest action flick will be a "character piece" that will include "very interesting mysteries."
"I think it's going to be really cool," Lucas said.
At the inaugural Rome Film Festival in October, the 64-year-old Ford said he was excited to team up with Lucas and Spielberg again for the fourth "Indiana Jones" installment. Ford said he was "fit to continue" to play the title role despite his age.
Ford played Indiana Jones in 1981's "Raiders of the Lost Ark," 1984's "Temple of Doom" and 1989's "The Last Crusade."
Lucas praised Ford for breathing life into his character.
"Mostly it's the charm of Harrison that makes it work," he said.
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On the Net:
Lucasfilm Ltd: http://www.lucasfilm.com
Tournament of Roses: http://www.tournamentofroses.com

body and mind

“Youth is the time for adventures of the body, but age for triumphs of the mind.”

Logan Pearsall Smith

70 40

“To be seventy years young is sometimes far more cheerful and hopeful than to be forty years old”

Oliver Wendell Holmes

most beautiful

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.”
Albert Einstein

another man's road

“We can’t reach old age by another man’s road. My habits protect my life but they would assassinate you”

Mark Twain

madness

“There is no genus without a mixture of madness”
Seneca, the Younger, Roman Philosopher

habit is......

“Habit is habit, and not to be flung out of the window by any man, but coaxed down stairs a step at a time”

Mark Twain

screwy post

Jimmy Buffet.


Why Don't We Get Drunk

I really do appreciate the fact you're sittin' here
Your voice sounds so wonderful
But your face don't look too clear
So, Barmaid, bring a pitcher, another round of brew
Honey, why don't we get drunk and screw.

(Chorus)
Why don't we get drunk and screw
I just bought a waterbed filled up for me and you
They say you are a snuff queen, Honey, I don't think that's true
So, why don't we get drunk and screw.
(Instrumental)
(Repeat chorus)

tonight.........

Bob Dylan
Tonight Ill Be Staying Here With You
Throw my ticket out the window
Throw my suitcase out there too
Throw my troubles out the door
I don't need them any more
'Cause tonight I'll be staying here with you.

I should have left this town this morning
But it was more than I could do
Oh, your love comes on so strong
And I've waited all day long
For tonight when I'll be staying here with you.

Is it really any wonder
The love that a stranger might receive
You cast your spell and I went under
I find it so difficult to leave.

I can hear that whistle blowin'
I see that stationmaster, too
If there's a poor boy on the street
Then let him have my seat
'Cause tonight I'll be staying here with you.

Throw my ticket out the window
Throw my suitcase out there too
Throw my troubles out the door
I don't need them any more
'Cause tonight I'll be staying here with you.

possessions

“Each person is born to one possession which out values all his others- His last breath”

Mark Twain

sands of time

Like an aging picket fence weaving along a white sand beach in a place of such timelessness, your beauty knows not where to end. Sprigs of wide bladed grasses pushing towards the life giving sunlight that also lights your face, exposing your features to my eyes. Which in turn, reminds me of how you are my life, of what you mean there, and why I could never draw another breath with out you in it. A sea bird passing overhead, calling out for nourishment, for either belly or soul, longing for both in the long run like I. Wave after wave rushing in, lingering, pausing for its one moment of equilibrium before being pulled back home, remixing, never to be exactly the same, leaving only one mark that is absorbed in those sands. We too, are like that in one another’s lives, soaking up the good, fearing the bad, but none the less a canvas of marks, of high tides, and of the low. Washing upon the face of the other, this dance of land and sea, of you and me, a road map in this journey of love, and of life. The fine lines, now lit by the sun show me the way, reading your face, understanding the path, the past, the present and the future.

the twain rolls on

“When I reflect upon the number of disagreeable people who I know have gone to a better world, I am moved to lead a different life”

Mark Twain

pencil-thin

Jimmy Buffet

Pencil-Thin Mustache

Now they make new movies in old black and white,
With happy endings, where nobody fights,
So if you find yourself in that nostalgic rage,
Honey, jump right up and show your age.

I wish I had a pencil-thin mustache,
the "Boston Blackie" kind, or a
two-toned Ricky Ricardo jacket,
and an autographed piture of Andy Divine.

Oh, I remember bein' buck toothed and skinny
Writin' fan letters to Sky's niece Penny.
Oh, I wish I had a pencil-thin mustache,
then I could solve some mysteries too.
Oh it's Bandstand, Disneyland, growin up fast,
Drinkin' on a fake I.D.
And Rama of the jungle was everyone's Bawana,
But only jazz musicians were smokin marajuana.
Yeah, I wish I had a pencil-thin mustache,
then I could solve some mysteries too.

But then it's flat-top, dirty bop, copin' a feel'
grubbin on the living room floor;
They send you off to college to try to gain
a little knowledge,
But all you want to do is learn how to score.
Yeah, but now I'm gettin' old, don't wear underwear,
I don't go to church, and I don't cut my hair;
But I can goto movies and see it all there,
Just the way that it use to be.

That's why I wish I had a pencil-thin mustache
the "Boston Blackie" kind, or a
two-toned Ricky Ricardo jacket,
And an autographed picture of Andy Divine.

Oh, I could be anyone I wanted to be,
Maybe suave Eerol Flynn or the Sheik of Araby.
If I only had a pencil-thin mustache,
then I could do some crusing too.

Yeah, Brylcream, a little dab'll do yah,
Oh, I could do some crusing too.

again, and again, and again

Implosion was emanate, fueled by his mouth, her skin rippled with each passing lick, soft and gentle, each one teasing, thick and timely. Pulling his hair as if guiding a horse drawn carriage, she steered him into those zones she loved touched. The backs of her knees, now damp and raised above him, making her feel all the more naughty. Her breath now a pant, as if no air was left in the room, each one, timed with each lick, she moans out, and growing louder, and louder she comes so intensely that she becomes limp, like a rag doll, laying there, smiling as he raises up, and in a single graceful motion, slides up, on and in her. Slowly, commencing to move in and out, touching his tongue to hers, the heat of their passion builds, like steam in a volcano, the lava of their love grows, waiting for impending eruption, enjoying, toying, they make love in a way she had never tasted before, never like this, never so sweet, never so intense, never so pleasing……she moaned again, and again, and again, and, then again, her eyes rolled back as she moaned once more, once more as he groans her name long and slow.

killing me

This song came to me, that when I knew I was high!


Roberta Flack-Killing me softly


Strumming my pain with his fingers,
Singing my life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song,
Killing me softly with his song,
Telling my whole life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song ...

I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style.
And so I came to see him to listen for a while.
And there he was this young boy, a stranger to my eyes.

Strumming my pain with his fingers,
Singing my life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song,
Killing me softly with his song,
Telling my whole life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song ...

I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd,
I felt he found my letters and read each one out loud.
I prayed that he would finish but he just kept right on ...

Strumming my pain with his fingers,
Singing my life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song,
Killing me softly with his song,
Telling my whole life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song ...

He sang as if he knew me in all my dark despair.
And then he looked right through me as if I wasn't there.
But he just came to singing, singing clear and strong.

Strumming my pain with his fingers,
Singing my life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song,
Killing me softly with his song,
Telling my whole life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song ...

He was strumming, oh, he was singing my song.
Killing me softly with his song,
Killing me softly with his song,
Telling my whole life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song ...
With his song ...

frozen heart

Frozen from your world
Set adrift, and cast to sea
Looking for redemption
In a three part harmony

now that I'ved lost everything to you

Cat Stevens
Wild World

1. Now that I've lost everything to you
You say you want to start something new
And it's breaking my heart you're leaving, baby I'm grieving
But if you want to leave take good care
Hope you have a lot of nice things to wear
But then a lot of nice things turn bad out there

Ref.: Oh, baby, baby it's a wild world
It's hard to get by just upon a smile
Oh, baby, baby it's a wild world
I'll always remember you like a child, girl

2. You know I've seen a lot of what the world can do
And it's breaking my heart in two
'Cos I never want to see you sad girl. don't be a bad girl
But if you want to leave take good care
Hope you make a lot of nice friends out there
But just remember there's a lot of bad and beware

Ref.: Oh, baby,baby ...

3. (Instrumental)
(Instrumental)
(Instrumental) , Baby I love you
But if you want to leave take good care
Hope you make a lot of nice friends out there
But just remember there's a lot of bad and beware

Ref.: Oh, baby, baby ... (2x)

The Blokes

The Long And Winding Road
(Lennon/McCartney)

~~~

The long and winding road that leads to your door,
Will never disappear, I've seen that road before
It always leads me here, leads me to your door.

The wild and windy night the rain washed away,
Has left a pool of tears crying for the day.
Why leave me standing here, let me know the way

Many times I've been alone and many times I've cried
Anyway you'll never know the many ways I've tried

And still they lead me back to the long and winding road
You left me standing here a long, long time ago
Don't leave me waiting here, lead me to your door

But still they lead me back to the long and winding road
You left me standing here a long, long time ago
Don't keep me waiting here, lead me to your door
yea, yea, yea, yea--

nilsson

Harry Nilsson.


Everybody's talking at me

I don't hear a word they're saying

Only the echoes of my mind

People stopping staring

I can't see their faces

Only the shadows of their eyes

I'm going where the sun keeps shining

Thru' the pouring rain

Going where the weather suits my clothes

Backing off of the North East wind

Sailing on summer breeze

And skipping over the ocean like a stone

against the wind

Bob Seger and The Sliver Bullet Band, “Against the Wind”.


It seems like yesterday

But it was long ago

Janey was lovely she was the queen of my nights

There in the darkness with the radio playing low

And the secrets that we shared

The mountains that we moved

Caught like a wildfire out of control

'Til there was nothing left to burn and nothing left to prove

And I remember what she said to me

How she swore that it never would end

I remember how she held me oh so tight

Wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then

Against the wind

We were runnin' against the wind

We were young and strong, we were runnin'

Against the wind

The years rolled slowly past

And I found myself alone

Surrounded by strangers I thought were my friends

I found myself further and further from my home

And I guess I lost my way

There were oh so many roads

I was living to run and running to live

Never worryied about paying or even how much I owed

Moving eight miles a minute for months at a time

Breaking all of the rules that would bend

I began to find myself searching

Searching for shelter again and again

Against the wind

A little something against the wind

I found myself seeking shelter sgainst the wind

Well those drifter's days are past me now

I've got so much more to think about

Deadlines and commitments

What to leave in, what to leave out

Against the wind

I'm still runnin' against the wind

I'm older now but still runnin' against the wind

Well I'm older now and still runnin'

Against the wind

Against the wind

Against the wind

Still runnin'

I'm still runnin' against the wind

I'm still runnin'

I'm still runnin' against the wind

Still runnin'

Runnin' against the wind

Runnin' against the wind

See the young man run

Watch the young man run

Watch the young man runnin'

He'll be runnin' against the wind

Let the cowboys ride

Let the cowboys ride

They'll be ridin' against the wind

Against the wind ...

ripe

Ripe with juice, her words run down my face as I bite them. The tang, overwhelming in texture and truth fills me with pleasure. Each bite, fresher and fuller than the last, I become gluttonous. My belly swells with their delectable flavor, but I do not stop. Like a horse to water drinking in their meaning, learning more of who I am from her non stop banquet of words. This is inspiration at is finest. This is what I thirst for. Addicted I must have the fix that pulses threw my veins………..

words to live

Youngblood’s, “Let’s Get Together”.


Love is but the song we sing,

And fear's the way we die

You can make the mountains ring

Or make the angels cry

Know the dove is on the wing

And you need not know why

C'mon people now,

Smile on your brother

Ev'rybody get together

Try and love one another right now

Some will come and some will go

We shall surely pass

When the one that left us here

Returns for us at last

We are but a moments sunlight

Fading in the grass

C'mon people now,

Smile on your brother

Ev'rybody get together

Try and love one another right now

If you hear the song I sing,

You must understand

You hold the key to love and fear

All in your trembling hand

Just one key unlocks them both

It's there at your command

C'mon people now,

Smile on your brother

Ev'rybody get together

Try and love one another right now

Right now

Right now!

The Most Painful Day of the Year

Sitting here waiting for the end of this seemingly endless precession of rail cars a sweetness comes over me. Like that gentle breeze we have all read about, passing over our bodies while lifting up our hair. My mind has drifted off, sending me to another place and time in my short life. For only 3 or so seconds I was transported to a time and place where my lonesomeness had not yet been born.

I can still remember most of them, although some are nothing more than a name on a list, a mark of my conquest, never shared with anyone. I do not name names when I kiss and tell. From this list, only some are remembered completely. Their touch, smell and taste, right here, never fading, some how remaining separate from the rest. Remembering the way they moved when I was in them. Some I miss, and some miss me, and still others I would still die for, but there was only that one that really mattered. I sit and stare; lost in the vibration of the train I recall that year, it had started in spring.

The dingers’ rose and traffic rumbled back to its business at hand. Somehow I retained a small piece of that long forgotten happiness. A smile curled the edges of my lips as I headed home. As I drove through the older neighborhoods of town I continued to reach back into that often-sordid bag of my past.

The Springtime of sexual awaking-

I thought about the wonders of seeing the ground pushing bulbs and shrubs towards bloom. I could smell the warmth of the earth, as a spring shower would dust the ground, sending its scent of freshness all around. I could see blue skies, with distant clouds bellowing, puffy white and pure. The days as a teen spent falling in love with young girls, still learning about our sexuality one day at a time still made me hard. Tender moments spent licking one another’s cracks and shafts. Rabbit like raw humping keeping time to the rock n roll anthems of our time. Our nudity so new, the shyness fading to an unbridled freedom to fuck. With each stolen moment, and with each kiss we swore to an unending love all the while holding hands between smokes.

The Summer of love-

The swimming holes filled up quickly with the boys and girls of that summer. Heavy drinking and pot gave the courage to explore many uncharted seas. Relationships came and so did I. Of the many loves that summer one stood out and still owns major real estate of my heart even now. Flirting with one another she made me feel things the others hadn’t, and in that summer of love we educated one another in ways that still make me smile. Lovers learning the ways of their bodies, boys becoming young men as girls stepped towards real maturity, wishing that we would never leave. But unlike Pan, I could not fly.

The Fall from grace-

Watching the sun slowly speed up, heading to its summer equinox, Fall rounds the corner. Leaves burning in piles, while giggling children run hoping the shrinking daylight can be altered. I spent that fall completely in lust with an older girl that introduced me to the naughty side of the tracks. We would lie under the trees and listen to the sounds of migrating birds while leaves fell on us. Many times we did this naked, and if your in Rome. She opened doors to me that defines who I sexuality am today for the most part. Twisted and playful she showed me secrets I treasure yet share freely today. Growing erect and standing firm I schooled long and hard in her ways of love. Quaaludes or mushrooms set the many a mood that fall, and when I woke up I found it wasn’t a dream.


Winters of our discontent-

Ice cold, frozen wastelands stood sentry that year, and I lived in many places staying warm. Allowing strangers to hold my heart in exchange for a few quick fucks, I was on a path to sexual freedom man. I had the world by its tail but didn’t we all in our teenage years? I slept around and got no rest, content to just lick and learn. One day I ran into Mrs. Summer, you remember her, the heartland Baroness. The rush of both being with an old lover that had learned so many new things to pleasure one another with was sweet. The sex was in the top 3, having both quit our jobs in order to stay naked and connected once or twice. If I could hold this one today I know she would say to me, borrowing the Uncle Cracker line; “I polished up your halo, and you dirtied up my soul”. Soul mate number one she was.

The honk of his horn startled me, hitting the gas I looked back and drove away. My 3-second slice of past lovers and friends was through. Another day, another laugh all the way to the bank. I drove towards my empty house not wanting this day to sink in. I fought the varied attempts for that thought, that recollection of the past to hit. But I do remember her and this day so long ago and I miss her in a way that can never be corrected. Death can do that, robbing any way to touch her again, sealing the heart to remember her forever, never being able to detach fully and step back into real life full of real people. I didn’t want to remember but I did.

We had started a life together, and for the very first time I was truly in a committed relationship. I was 17. The world was perfect and over the years our love grew, as did our son. She was a beautiful mother, a great wife and a kind, naughty yet nurturing lover. I loved that I could get away with telling her that she was a Mother, and I fucked her, thus, I was a bad motherfucker. I was also a great Dad and a true husband. I loved her like my very life depended on it. It turned out, one day it did. That day is here again and I know I will have to write away the thoughts once more. I remember so clearly how she worked to unbuckle me as the jeep began to sink. Pushing me towards the shattered windshield I realized she was just sitting there, not struggling to get free. I turned back, and I went for her seatbelt. She looked at me and somehow I knew. I found the steering wheel had impaled her. She said I love you, and the last bubbles left her. The man who had run us off the bridge pulled me out, and even though he saved my life I still hate that he did in to many ways. Anyway, now its tomorrow, I made it one more time baby. You’d be proud of our son.