Tag Archives: Twilight Zone

They’ve Netflixed Me Again!

2 Jun

June 2, 2011

Awhile back I wrote about the weird suggestions Netflix was giving me, like watching The Larry Sanders Show because I enjoyed Pulp Fiction. I figured that there had to be some logic behind the lunacy and finally realized the connection- Larry Sanders and Pulp Fiction each featured cheese as a significant plot point.

Well, no, they didn’t, but that makes about as much sense as anything else.

With that in mind, and with just a hint of trepidation, I went back to see what Netflix might think I’d enjoy now that I’ve watched more movies and rated some more films. Here is what I got.


The thing to bear in mind is that I wasn’t even searching for Dinosaurs. That came up in a list of films that I might enjoy. Why? I don’t know. This was even before I rated Jurassic Park so maybe this is just something everybody gets. Whatever.

But The Life and Times of Hank Greenberg? What is the connection between dinosaurs and Hank Greenberg? Well, first, both are dead. Secondly, Hank Greenberg was Jewish and so was the Hebrewsaurus. And lastly, neither one is something that I would bother watching. I guess Netflix may be smarter than I thought to come up with all of that.

When I got past that screen I got the same old suggestions from last time and, scrolling past, I got to a new movie I might enjoy.


Really? The Odd Couple? Because I enjoyed The Twilight Zone? Is it enough for Netflix that Walter Matthau was in an episode of The Twilight Zone? Honestly, I don’t watch that show just for him. And it is a good thing because I am pretty sure he wasn’t ever in one. And neither was Jack Lemon. I’m just going to have to throw my hands in the air and give up on that one. (For the record, I happen to love The Odd Couple but it has zero to do with The Twilight Zone.)

Maybe Netflix simply needed some more information. I’d only rated about 1,000 films for them, maybe a couple more would do the trick. So I went and rated some more films and I guess Netflix’s program started getting tired of my hitting “haven’t seen it” for every silly chick flick and anime mish-mash they popped on screen and started asking me questions.


How do I answer that? On the one hand I never saw a Harry Potter film in my life but on the other hand I love Escape from Alcatraz with Clint Eastwood and Patrick McGoohan. I guess “never” would be the best answer since I don’t think there are
very many prison movies like Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. All I can think of is what if HBO’s OZ was produced for the Disney Channel? Someone needs to program some better algorithms into Netflix’s software.


Again, WTF? Wrath of Khan is easily the best Trek film (and no arguing with me in the comments section!) and a personal Top Ten Must Watch. If it is on TV, I watch it. (Goodfellas is on that list too, with Jaws.) And yes, Kirk’s mid-life crisis is a theme of the film, but to call Star Trek II a mid-life crisis movie is like calling Halloween a film about a babysitter. Well yes, but…

And speaking of horror films:


I’ve seen Meatballs. That is a summer camp film but it is nothing like Friday the 13th. I’ve seen Race for your Life Charlie Brown and that is nothing like Friday the 13th. For the third time I hit the “never” button and wondered why I was bothering.


Now here was a dilemma. The question is perfectly proper. But how to answer it? I have seen Crouching Tiger twice. I used to watch those old kung-fu flicks channel 5 used to show on Sunday afternoons but those were dubbed. (And pretty badly too.) I knew
that if I hit “sometimes” I’d get nothing but films I couldn’t understand and probably wouldn’t watch even if I did, so I hit “never” again.

After I had all I could take I went back to see what new suggestions Netflix had for me.

Damn! Netflix is determined to get me to watch that film? And the connection between The Odd Couple, Dirty Harry, Psycho, and Casablanca? Each featured cheese as a significant plot point.

Mr. Blog Meets The Scrappers (part two)

7 Sep

September 6, 2010

The thing I really missed on my first blog about the Scrappers at the 18th Avenue feast was a picture. I really wanted you to see the dirty tent, to see the bikers, to see Frank Noots wasted. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my camera and I left my cell phone in the car. So I decided to go back later in the week and get some shots. That was Sunday.

I returned on Wednesday, camera in hand, and it was wrong, all wrong.

The big Scrappers booth was filled with young Italian women cooking trays and trays of sausage and peppers, calamari, steaks, and it all smelled great. Not a scrapper, not a bad t-shirt, not a Mimmo in the place.

Where were they? They were in a tiny booth, five feet wide at best, crammed between the food tent and a booth selling ganja t-shirts and necklaces. But it wasn’t the same.

I was in the Mirror Mirror universe, where Spock had a goatee and sold scrap.

This booth had lights, a sound system blasting music, Spike TV Scrappers posters, and a big video screen showing Scrappers. Instead of surly Teamsters it was full of kids, aged eight to twelve, wearing Scrappers shirts and laughing with the crowd, which swelled all around the booth. A woman was quickly selling shirts as fast as she could. The crowd was buying them like they were going out of style. Though I couldn’t see him through the crowd, I was told Dino was there high-fiving fans.

I knew that either I was being punked, or I’d turn around to see Rod Serling in an apron selling calamari.

Only one thing remained the same- Frank Noots. He was there, but  sober(!), wearing an official black shirt like you see on TV, and working the crowd.

(OK, two things were the same- the t-shirts still sucked.)

And also like last time, I didn’t get a picture, but this time it was because the booth was so crowded I couldn’t get a shot.

What happened between Sunday and Wednesday? Where did the phony scrappers go? Why were they in the other people’s tent? Did they muscle out the Italian food for the weekend? And why were there no real Scrappers there on Sunday at all?

To quote the Wise Old Owl, the world may never know.