The last few months, I have returned to my first love – writing.

As far back as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to be a writer. I’ve always loved to read and always thought it would be cool to be able to tell stories that could be enjoyed by countless people for years to come. That eventually led me to want to become a journalist, also at a very young age. (How many kids do you know who want to play “newspaper reporter?”) It always amazed me how these people could write things, from all over the world, and I would be reading them in the morning papers. (Yes, I was reading the paper before going to elementary school.)

As a kid, I would fill up notebook after notebook with stories, along with the illustrations to go with them. I remember one epic saga, written in the third grade, that filled an entire notebook with the tale of me and several of my friends and our adventures – traveling though time, going to Mars, drilling to the center of the Earth where the dinosaurs lived, etc. As I got a little older and started to read Asimov, Heinlein, Burroughs and, especially Douglas Adams, I knew if I was going to write, I wanted to write science fiction. Not a real surprise to anyone who knew me as a kid, or as an “adult.” By junior high I had a typewrite and I produced plenty of starts to stories, nothing overly original, and nothing that went beyond a few pages before I’d get bored.

Once I reached high school, the French horn and the computer intervened. The French horn had been around since the fifth grade, but it didn’t really get appealing until high school. That’s when music began to slowly push writing to the side as a focus for my attention. I still wrote, but less and less, and that desire to be a writer or a journalist turned into a desire to do something with music. I was pretty sure being a performer wasn’t in the cards, but a band director was a distinct possibility. So that’s where my sights were set.

Then, along came the Texas Instruments 99/4A.

My oldest brother convinced my parents to get me a computer when I was a junior in high school. It didn’t take long for me to get hooked. I still loved the French horn and music, but my sights changed and by the time I enrolled in college, music was out and journalism and writing weren’t even on the radar any more. But, my fling with computers turned out to be a very on-again, off-again affair. By April of my sophomore year, I had cooled on computer as a career and was once again searching for some kind of direction. I had ruled music out. I knew it wouldn’t be a good fit for me as a career. I toyed with business, but again, not even close to being a fit.

Then, on April 8, 1987 – my birthday – I walk out of the computer lab at Ole Miss after an all-nighter early in the unseasonably cold morning and notice a few flakes of snow falling. To this day, I don’t know why, but while watching the flakes fall, bleary-eyed, I decided it was time to go back to that first love – writing. In particular, to journalism. By that afternoon, I had met with the head of the journalism department on campus and, when I came back to school in the fall, my major would officially be journalism. (Actually it was a Bachelor of Arts with an emphasis in journalism, since, at the time, Ole Miss didn’t actually offer a journalism degree).

Fast forward 16 years. I wrote a lot, including some fiction – short stories, starts to novels, etc. – but mostly, I was busy playing mild-mannered reporter. Then, I escaped. The trials and tribulations of the newspaper career and its aftermath are stories I’ve told before and stories still yet to be told. But, in 2004, I walked away from writing. This time completely.

Two things pulled me away from that first love. The first was the bitter taste left by my career in the newspaper business. The second was because of Steve Jobs.

In January of 2004, Apple, its resurgence really rolling under Jobs, introduced a piece of software called GarageBand that allowed the user to use their computer as a recording studio. I had played with the rock star delusion for a while in college and loved the thought of being able to record my own music. So, I was hooked.

A new job allowed me to pack up much of my former life and writing, for almost a decade, stayed packed away with so many books and trinkets that were never unpacked and left in some forgotten corner in a storage room somewhere. Music ruled. Especially when I began to share my music with people on-line and their ears didn’t start bleeding after they listened to it. Music gave me an immediate satisfaction I never really got with writing. As a reporter I’d see my words in print each week, but it wasn’t really very satisfying. I wrote stories that were interesting and that I was extremely proud of. I wrote columns that were important, funny, informative. I won awards. Still, the things I was writing weren’t the things I really wanted to write. When I made music, I said the things I wanted to say. The songs incorporated the words and emotions I wanted to convey. And, thanks to that floozie the computer coming back into my life, I could create and share, sometimes in just a very few hours.

And music continued to rule. It helped me through a drastic change in career. It helped me through the few very happy months afterward. It helped me through the long, terrible unhappy months that followed. And it helped me get back on my feet once it was all over. It had secured its place as my big “L” love. My one and only.

Then came the seven-year itch.

Okay, maybe things weren’t all rosy with me and music. Things were a little dull at times. We’d go through the same old routines. “Why do you have to use an A minor chord in EVERYTHING you do?” “Didn’t you already use this line in a another tune?” “*sigh* Can’t you PLEASE use a different setting for your guitar?”

Music and I tried to spice things up.  We brought in toys – an accordion, a theremin, five strong bass, etc. – and they would provide a brief diversion, but the excitement and novelty was short-lived and routine would set back in. We even tried a little role-playing, a not-so-secret secret musical identity. It helped for a while, but still, the spark faded pretty quickly.

Then, out of the blue, while there was a long “dry spell” between music and me, that old flame, my first love, writing, shows up out of nowhere. It was an idea for a story and I decided to just write it down as an outline, as I had done many, many times over the years. It was just going to be a one-time thing. Just until music and I got back into our groove.

But, that one-time thing as it turns out, rekindled my passion. An outline turned into a chapter, then another, then another. Then, it stopped. I ran into that old foe – boredom, apathy, whatever you want to call it. It always seemed there to pounce on any long-term relationship I ever had with writing. Dozens and dozens of outlines and ideas cast aside over the years. Short stories abandoned. Ideas for novels that never got past a page or two. Nothing ever finished.

Music stepped back in. One day – one song. Instant gratification. But there was that itch I knew I needed to scratch.

So, music and I had “The Talk.” It’s not you, it’s me. I just need some space. We’ll always be friends. And I put away the instruments and committed completely to that first love, writing.

It’s been four months now. And in that time, I accomplished something I’ve never accomplished before in my writing – I completed a novel length manuscript. More than anything, it was a test I put myself through just to prove I could do it. As it stands now, it’s 125,218 words long and I’m just through editing the first few chapters. My original goal was just to finish writing the complete story. I did it. Now, my goal is to get it edited to a point where I might actually let someone else read it and critique it.

I’ve realized that even though writing was my first love, this is an entirely new relationship between the two of us. I know what I can do now. I know I can finish something I start. I also know that not everything I start is destined to be finished. You can look on my music hard drive and there is file after file of unfinished songs.

And, as for music, let’s just say the three of us have come to an understanding. It’s kind of an open thing between us all. I mean, sometimes you get an itch only a guitar can scratch…

Will my new relationship with writing last? Will music win my whole heart again? How long can I juggle this artistic three-way? How long can I keep up the thinly veiled sexual metaphors?

I guess you’ll just have to wait for the next chapter.

It still takes some getting used to to think that we now live in a world where comic book movies are serious works, with real, solid scripts, top shelf actors and audience interest beyond 13-year-old boys and 32-year-old men who still live in the basement of their parent’s home. But that’s the world we live in (for the most part) and it’s great. The truly good ones manage to walk that fine line between making the fanboys happy and appealing to a wider audience who have never cracked open a comic book and it seems to be happening more and more these days.

Some have gotten it right more than others. Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, Iron Man and the first two X-Men movies come to mind. One of the things that make these films so good is spot-on casting. I mean, could you see anyone besides Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark? Or Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen as Professor X and Magneto. Like I said, it’s a balancing act to get it right to begin with and even more when you start tinkering by, say, casting younger versions of characters you got exactly right the first time.

That is one of two things X-Men: First Class <i>had</i> to get right.

And it did.

Every bit as much as Stewart and McKellen took the roles of Professor X and Magneto and made them their own, James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender make you believe that not only are THEY Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr but, when they grow up, they will be Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen as well. Both are great in their roles, but Fassbender really shines. He does what Zachary Quito did with Spock in J.J. Abrams Star Trek – he becomes both the character and the more famous actor who originally played the character. More than that, they captured the chemistry  established by the earlier actors as well.

The second element that had to be right was the story.

X-Men: First Class is not a story about superheroes or super powers. It’s not about how The X-Men came to be. It’s about Charles and Erik, two men who become friends – brothers – but two friends who are ultimately going to be forced into different, conflicted paths because of the events which formed their lives. Sure, they do it while wearing bright yellow spandex, but, ultimately, it doesn’t matter. All the rest is decoration, really, but they do that well as well.

The plot is woven in and around the Cuban Missile Crises, with Sebastian Shaw (Kevin Bacon in another great casting move)  as the big bad, who just happened to be young Erik Lehnsherr’s mentor/tormentor as a young boy in a German concentration camp. It hits hard on the theme of prejudice which has always been a staple of The X-Men and which, ultimately, is what draws the divide between Erik and Charles. While there is plenty of action and great effects, it doesn’t get bogged down in long action sequences or super-powered fights that go on forever and accomplish nothing. The movie has a lot of ground to cover and covers it well. Really the only weak part is the training montage, where Charles and Erik are training the new recruits before they go after Shaw. It gets a little cheesy.

I don’t know enough about the complex, convoluted and conflicting origin of The X-Men to be able to judge it from a comic book stand point. I recognized some of the other characters – Mystique, Beast – but weren’t really familiar with the others. Honestly, from reading my older brothers’ comics, I remember The X-Men being Cyclops, Marvel Girl, Beast (not blue and hairy), Angel and Iceman. Past that, I’m kind of at a loss. But, really, I don’t guess it matters, with the exception of Mystique (Jennifer Lawrence) and Beast (Nicholas Hoult), it doesn’t really matter so much to the story.

As much as I liked the first two X-Men movies (I actually enjoyed the third one as well, but it wasn’t even close to the first two. But it was miles better than the 20 minutes or so I saw of the Wolverine movie), I would have to say X-Men: First Class edges out as my favorite of the franchise. It hits on all cylinders – a good story, great performances by McAvoy and Fassbender, and not too excessive on the superhero slug outs. I know there will be more movies in the X-Men franchise coming. Let’s hope they look back to this one in order to get it right.

Two things right off the cuff:

First – If you didn’t care for the original movie, you won’t like this one because…

Second – If you saw the first movie, then you’ve pretty much seen this one, only, it doesn’t matter, you will still be laughing your ass off all the way through.

Yes, another member of the “Wolf Pack,” as the group is called by Zach Galafen… Galofan… Galifianakis’ character Alan, is getting married. This time it’s mild-mannered dentist Stu – Ed Helms. Naturally his bride to be is from Thailand and of course he’s going to have his two best friends Phil and Doug – Bradley Cooper and Justin Bartha – as part of the wedding. Stu’s idea of a bachelor party is brunch at iHop, but Phil has other ideas. But, as the wedding day approaches and the three head to Thailand, with Alan in tow because they feel sorry for him, it looks like it’s just going to be a boring old wedding against the exotic backdrop of the Orient.

I bet you can’t guess what happens next…

Whether you can or can’t it doesn’t matter. Hangover II still works. There’s some new blood, Ang Lee’s son Mason as Teddy, Stu’s 16-year-old future brother-in-law. And more returning characters – Ken Jeong back as Mr. Chow. And, of course Bangkok replaces Vegas. Even though it covers some familiar territory the frenetic nature of the story and the uncomfortableness of the humor keep it fresh. There are some surprises along the way and some of the really, really, wrong humor from the first movie is turned up a notch or two.

This is one of those movies I really can’t wait to see on DVD because I missed  a lot of the lines because the crowd, and me, was laughing so hard.

Todd Phillpis has managed to strike gold twice with the Hangover premise. You know The Hangover: Part III is coming. The question is can he do it again, or will it be as funny as a real hangover…

What do you do when it’s 1 a.m., you”re pretty sure you won’t be getting any sleep soon, and your Interwebs are still out? (Lightning apparently knocked out the series of tubes connecting the Interwebs to my house.)

If you’re me, you download crap to your iPhone. And watch either the Star Wars trilogy or the Family Guy Star Wars trilogy.

On this particular insomniatic night, I found the app where I could access and update my blog. So, this is me blogging from my iPhone.

And this is me finishing this post. Time for The Empire Strikes Back.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Anita and I pull a lot of movies from the various DVD “cheap bins.” Quite often, they are movies we’ve never even heard of or may have only heard the name. Sometimes we decide to get it because of the cast, or the blurb on the case or we thought we heard something good about the movie. Sometimes I don’t have a clue why we get them. But, since these are often the bulk of the movies we watch, I thought I’d start doing an occasional review. Often, these movies are years, even decades old, but, it’s nice to take a look back at something that might actually be really, really good (or not).

The Gun in Betty Lou’s Handbag

1992

Starring: Alfre Woodard, Penelope Ann Miller, Eric Thal

Directed By: Allen Moyle; Written By: Grace Cary Bickley

Wal-Mart – $3 (Double DVD with Gross Anatomy)

No one should watch this movie unless: You’ve lived in Oxford, Mississippi and want to see the Square, some of the houses, University Avenue or The Gin (Man, I miss The Gin) in a movie; You actually lived in Oxford when this movie was made and want to relive the memories of major streets being closed down for days at a time, not seeing any of the stars out and about, city hall or The Gin or other buildings and businesses closed while filming was being done; You lived in Oxford and want to freeze frame the movie so you can see people you actually know as extras in crowd scenes; You lived in Oxford and actually got to go to the non-star-studded premier; You live anywhere and like to do things like stick needles under your toe nails, rake your fingernails across chalkboards, roll around in brier patches or chew on razor blades.

This is one of two movies that were filmed in Oxford during the decade or so I was in college. The Gun in Betty Lou’s Handbag makes Heart of Dixie (the other movie) look like Citizen Kane. Both movies used The Gin the preferred watering hole for much of the college crowd at the time, the City Hall (as a police station and as college newspaper office, respectively) and the Rebel Inn. And in both movies, while being filmed in the heart of Mississippi culture, the home of William Faulkner, the stories were based in other states – Missouri and Alabama.

The basic idea for the movie isn’t necessarily a bad one – a meek, small town woman, ignored and put upon by everyone around her – gets swept up in an uproar over some event totally unconnected to her and becomes an entirely different person – assertive, more worldly, in control of her own life. This movie took the idea and did less with it than would your typical Lifetime movie and, with the exception of Alfre Woodard and Julianne Moore (in a minor role) has pretty much a Lifetime movie level cast.

And I’m not even going to start on the Southern accents. Please, Hollywood, if you need someone who speaks with a Southern accent, get a Southern actor or at least get one from Ireland or Australia. They’re really good at it.

This is not by any means the worst movie I have in my collection, but it’s close.

…I know you’re just looking out for my best interest, but, I have to tell you, all the things you want me to update, well, it’s just not possible.

I know you really, really want me to upgrade to the newest edition of this web browser or that media player and I’m sure it would be for my own good. But you see Interwebs, the eMac I’m using at work is about 70 years old in dog years and probably much, much older in computer years. It might as well have a hand crank to start it up and run on steam power

But, you see, even though it works great, there’s really only so much it can do, especially when it comes to prowling around on the Wide World or Interwebs. It’s kinda slow and takes a while to get where it’s going, but it’s still getting me there. But, it’s upgraded as far as it will go.

So, if you don’t mind, you can just stop telling me my software is out of date, thankyouverymuch. You’re just making my computer feel really old.

It happened while we were standing in the express lane line at a local business. I’ll call it Xal-Nart, but the name really isn’t important.

As we set our few, meager purchases, sinus medicine, flea spray for the dog, garden supplies – again, not really important – on the counter, we were discussing an article Anita had read about people who loved the original trilogy but didn’t like the new Star Wars movies. (I guess Eps. I-III will always be the “new” Star Wars movies. At least until Lucas put out Eps. VII-IX like he promised all those decades ago.)

At the mention of the words “Star” and “Wars,” the boy-child manning the register perked up. “Do you guys like Star Wars?” he asked in a manner that really said “Oh wow! People as old, as ancient and decrepit as these two like something as cool, hip and trendy as Star Wars!”

We acknowledged that we did, indeed, enjoy the Star Wars and a look of joy began to spread across the face of this young, wholesome refugee from a Norman Rockwell jpeg. He began to proclaim his love for this Lucasian manna from Heaven. When he finally took a break to give us our total – $34.97, and, again, that’s totally irrelivant – glowing with the light of a new-found kinship, I endeavoured to continue the conversation.

“Yeah, I love Star Wars, but, I’ve always been more of a Trekkie.” (And, yes, I prefer “Trekkie” to “Trekker” which, in some circles has become the preferred reference. Splitters!)

At that very second, the glowing face of the man-child froze into a mask of unadulterated hatred and hostility. Dark, thunderous clouds began to gather behind him. The lights in Xal-Nart began to dim and shower sparks down upon us from high above. A sudden chilling wind began whipping around us like a dark foreboding of evil which was yet to come.

“Oh,” said the man-child. Images of he tortures and agonies he was perpetrating on me in his mind were reflected in his eyes. A dark, deadly silence followed, followed by a darker and deadlier “I see.”

Knowing that the putrid, scaly claws of this evil thing were hovering above the keys of the register which, if pressed, would add another $3,000 tot our total in unpurchased knitting items, car interior deodorants and feminine hygiene supplies, I sought to once again get the upper hand.

Determined to get the upper hand, I added in a manner dismissing this infant “Yeah, I grew up watching the original Star Trek. The first Star Wars movie didn’t come out until I was 11, so I was pretty raised on Trek.” In one fell swoop, I let the youngling know I was his Master. I was both Obi Wan and Christopher Pike. I gained my power from the Source, while he had suckled the stale and sour milk of Jar Jar Binks and Clone Troopers.

The effect was as if Gandalf drew the mighty Glamdring and held it high above his head in order to slay the Balrog, only to find it had been reduced to a miserable little river troll.

I took the spoils of our shopping trek, which also included a DVD from the $5 bin – again, not important. The deflated man-boy could only utter a shallow, defeated “Next please” in our triumphant wake.

As we left, however, I was troubled.

For some reason, unbeknownst to me, this Lucasian Acolyte had suddenly become my enemy. I had heard about this rift between those who worshiped at the altar of the Great Bird of the Galaxy and those who follow the Great Bearded One, but I had never before experienced it.

From the dawn of time, the two tribes were one. Klingon and Stormtrooper would break bread together. The Targ would lay down with the Ewok. It was a glorious time. A time of peace.

But now, for some reason, like East Coast and West Coast rappers, there has been a tear in the fabric which once held us all together. We no longer stand together against the true enemy – jocks – but we aim our phasers and blasters at each other.

I say to you my brothers… and sisters, but we all know it’s mostly brothers… Let any rift between us be healed. What ever grievances we had against one another in the past let the wind-blown sands, whether they be the sands of Tatooine or Ceti Alpha V, wear away this conflict between us.

Kirk, Spock and McCoy and Luke Han and Leia are all strong on their own, but imagine the power they would have together. And not in some kind of alternate universe cross-over kind of way, but  in a metaphoric, but real-life kind of way. Though, it would be cool if there could be some kind of cross-over where they were in the same universe. Even better, it could be caused by an Ancient device that, when brought into contact with the Stargate, ripped open the barrier between all three realities… but I digress.

It is our differences, our diversity – whether we be Federation or Republic, Gungan or Orion, R2 blue or R4 red unit or black/white or white/black – that makes us stronger.

I’m willing to be the first to reach out, Trekkie to Fanboy. Ask yourself – WWYD? What would Yoda do?

All things being equal, I would never go see a movie titled “Bridesmaids.” It, at best, would have  been a movie I’d be forced to endure during one of those junk food and beer, chick flick-fueled post boyfriend breakup weekends I used to spend with a friend of mine (you know who you are…)

But, all things aren’t equal that I didn’t get dragged to see. It was a movie I WANTED to see.

On paper, Bridesmaids sounds like your typical chick flick. Annie (Kristen Wiig) is down on her luck. Her bakery went under a couple of years ago. She’s in a dead-end job she doesn’t want. She shares an apartment with a strange brother and sister and her romantic life consists of being a semi-regular booty call for a rich, good looking asshole. Then, her best friend from childhood, Lillian, gets engaged and Annie is the maid of honor. That’s where the fun begins.

Early on what piqued my interest in this movie was its Judd Aptow pedigree. He’s has a string a really great comedies over the past few years and I wondered if he could accomplish that without Seth Rogen. Plus, the first preview looked very promising. However, be warned, the trailers make it out to be a female version of The Hangover, but it’s not.

Bridesmaids is that rare beast. More rare than the love child of a unicorn and a white buffalo. It is an often hilarious, often raunchy film that blends the elements found in movies like The Hangover, Knocked Up and other recent comedies with those of a chick flick and even a little buddy movie sprinkled in.

The best review I’ve read of it so far was “Strong enough for a man, but made for a woman.”

Casting helps make the movie as well. Wiig and Rudolph cut their teeth on Saturday Nigh Live and work well together. Also, interesting choices in some of the supporting cast make the movie fun. Namely Chris O’dowd as Rhodes, Annie’s inevitable love interest, and Matt Lucas and Rebel Wilson as the strange apartment mates. O’dowd is best know (by me, anyway) from the Brit-com The IT Crowd, wich is so funny I have literally hurt myself from laughing. Lucas has been in a ton of stuff, but my fav is Little Brittan, which is just wrong, wrong, wrong.

The show stealer, however, is Melissa McCarthy. She’s definitely the “one of these things is not like the other” of the group of bridesmaids and she definitely gets the biggest laughs of the entire movie.

Bridesmaids isn’t perfect. The pacing gets off in the middle a bit and it drags from time to time, it also gets a little bit too “sweet” and formulaic for my taste, but the chemistry of the cast, along with a really sharp script make up for it. Definitely a good “date” movie.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Anita and I pull a lot of movies from the various DVD “cheap bins.” Quite often, they are movies we’ve never even heard of or may have only heard the name. Sometimes we decide to get it because of the cast, or the blurb on the case or we thought we heard something good about the movie. Sometimes I don’t have a clue why we get them. But, since these are often the bulk of the movies we watch, I thought I’d start doing an occasional review. Often, these movies are years, even decades old, but, it’s nice to take a look back at something that might actually be really, really good (or not).

Krull

1983

Starring: Ken Marshall, Lysette Anthony, Freddie Jones and, believe it or not, Robbie Coltrane and Liam Neeson

Directed By: Peter Yates Written By: Stanford Sherman

Big Lots – $3 bin

I know a bunch of you groaned when you read the title, assuming more than David and Lain read this, but, seriously, Krull is one of the great, much overlooked sci-fi movies. Or great, much overlooked fantasy movies, depending on what you consider it. Which, I think, is part of its image problem. More on that later.

The Story: A giant, mountainous fortress lands on the planet Krull just as young Prince Colwyn and Princess Lyssa are about to get married and bring peace between warring kingdoms. In a scene which will probably show up in Wedding Crashers III, the Slayers from the fortress attack the wedding, slaying, basically, everyone except young Colwyn and kidnapping Lyssa. Colwyn’s nursed back to health by the mystic Ynyr (think Obi Wan) and is soon joined by a rag-tag band on magicians, criminals and a cyclops – I tell you, this movie has everything – in a quest to find the Black Fortress, free the princess and save Krull, and the galaxy, from ultimate evil.

This movie unfairly gets a bad rap. I think for a lot of reason. First, Ken Marshall and Lysette Anthony aren’t exactly big names in the movie world. They aren’t really even small names.  Marshall is best remembered, at least by me, as Commander Eddington from Deep Space Nine. Second, kind of like Tron and The Black Hole, it’s been written off for years as a 80s cheesy sci-fi, psudeo kids movie. Unlike Tron or The Black Hole (both of which I love, BTW) it actually has a PLOT, a decent cast and is pretty darn well put together. Sure, it’s got some cheesy moment, like the fire mares who run so fast their hooves create fire and allow them to fly, apparently, and some of the effects aren’t very special, but you end up overlooking those problems. The whole section with the Widow of the Web works really well.

Finally, I think part of the problem is an identity crisis. Krull is a rare mixture of real sci-fi – spaceships, lasers, alien creatures etc. – and true fantasy – magic, swords, mystical creatures. Some people think it’s a mistake to bring a sword to a blaster fight, but it works for me. I wish there was more decent sword and sorcery sci-fi (Still waiting for the big screen adaptation of Thundaar the Barbarian. Call me Hollywood. I have an idea.)

Krull was directed by Peter Yates, who over his career did quite a few classic movies including Steve McQueen’s Bullit, The Dresser starring Albert Finney and Breaking Away – all great movies I have never seen. More exciting to me is the fact that the score for the film was done by James Horner, Oscar winner for the Titanic film score, but, more importantly the man who did the soundtrack for Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan: By far the best of the Trek movie scores. And in the Krull score, he basically uses what was left over from Star Trek II.

And did I mention it also has Liam Neeson and Robbie Coltrane in minor roles? Which is cool. But what’s cooler is David Battley as the magician Ergo. Who is David Battley, you ask? None other than Mr. Turkentine, the teacher from the classic Willie Wonka and the Chocolate factory (not to be confused with the gawdawful Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.)

Okay, okay. Krull is not everyone’s cup of tea, but I do think it gets a bad rap. And if you haven’t seen it in years, or decades, mainly because of its reputation as 80s sci-fi cheese, go to Big Lots, spend $3 and decide for yourself.

It’s not everyday that I’m able to roll my sci-fi geekiness and my obsession with making music into one package, but, now, thanks to my new toy, I can.

Most people don’t know what a theremin is, even though they’ve most likely heard it. Maybe in a Beach Boys tune (Good Vibrations) or in the soundtrack to a good (or bad) sci-fi movie from the 50s. Basically it’s a primitive synthesizer. Created back in the early 20th Century, it uses a pair of antennas to produce an elctromagnetic field. A tone is created when something interrupts the field. You change the tone by moving your hand, finger or whatever bodily appendage you chose, through the field. Unlike most instruments where you press a valve, a key or hit something to produce a note and then press another valve, key or hit something else to make another note, changing notes on a theremin is not quite so distinct. You “glide” from note to note, or somewhere in between.

When you read about theremins, most places will tell you they are easy to learn and difficult to master. It’s very true. It requires precise control to get the notes you want as exact as possible and there are a number of people out in the world who can do it. I am not one of them.

But, I’ve only had my theremin a day. Give me some time… and I still won’t be one of them.

That does not prevent me from having a little bit of fun with it, though.

I love classic sci-fi movies, especially from the 50s and 60s. The Day the Earth Stood Still (the original, not the abominable remake) is one of the best science fiction movies not just of that era, but ever. And part of what makes it great is the classic soundtrack by Bernard Herman. Front and center in it is, of course, the theremin. Another great example is Forbidden Planet. A great movie which brought us Robbie the Robot, served as an inspiration for Star Trek and brought us the very first soundtrack created completely on electronic instruments, including the theremin.

So, I decided to have a little fun while learning to play my very own theremin and yesterday evening I whipped up this:

Theme from Invaders from Beyond Outer Space!

My very own theme from an imaginary 50s sci-fi movie.

It was the perfect way to celebrate the ultimate in geekiness.

In the future, I’m sure the theremin will find its way into my music from time to time. It’s definitely not appropriate for everything. For now, while I’m still seriously geeing out on it, I’ll probably stick it in everything, whether it’s appropriate or not.

In the meantime, I need to figure out a way to use both the theremin and the bagpipes in a song…