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My fancy-schmancy gym is equiped with the latest in workout gear, machinery, and wear (in case you forget your $4 shirt and want to replace it for $40). My every need is met (except the one to become svelte, smooth, and toned without sweating, or, in fact, moving) and one of the biggest is the entertainment for us treadmill rats. Hop on a treadmill/crosstrainer/stairmaster and watch your own little tv via headphones; if you don't like the shows you just pop in your own cd. There's no skipping, no pausing, no dropping your walkman and sheepishly hopping off your eliptical to pick it up and find the batteries that escaped before losing your time/place in the auto-program--it's great. It allows me to watch the X-Files whilst running, which means I have been known to keep going for the full hour if it's a really good episode. (The additional bonus: I can watch Buffy after that. Shut it. I don't mock your Simpsons obsession.)

Yesterday, I flipped instead to AMC where I learned about my fascination du jour: foley artists. Evolving from doing sound effects on old radio plays of yore, these folks recreate the incidentals of life after the sound effects people finish the bigs stuff. Walking down the street, shoes clicking on the pavement? Foley artist at work. Schussing thru the snow? A foley artist. The coolest part is that I got to see them work. They're so creative! I never would have thought a pillowcase full of cornstarch and crumpled paper on top would sound so much like snow.

My favorite part: making the sound effects for a (traditional) fight scene. A cushion, topped by celery and a pillow, whacked with a broomstick as necessary. Celery is for the bone damage, of course.

I get the idea that those who go into this business were a mother's nightmare when they were younger. "No, Ma, I didn't beat up my brother. Honest. But that *sounded* like a fight, right? Right? Ma?" "(sigh)"

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I'm a member at the Gene Siskel Film Center (highly recommend it), and because of this I can sit in on a film class covering the Horror Genre. It's a class offered at the school and I can participate without involving my GRE scores; there's a film viewing followed by a full lecture. We've hit the Freudian section of interpretation, but other than that it's absolutely fun. (Dr. Freud seems to have a thing about sexual subtext/subconscious desires. A bit *much* of a thing, personally. I think *he* had issues.) We're starting with old-school horror (1930s, full of Karloff-goodness) and will end up with The Ring, and last night was The Bride of Frankenstein. If you haven't seen it, or haven't in a while--rent it. It's both funny and sad, but the best parts are the winks that James Whale sends our way. If you read a scene a certain way but aren't sure that's what you're supposed to get out of it--fear not. You're right. Inside jokes, innuendo, and outright silliness abound.

Of course, it's also the basis for *many* other horror spoofs, so you should be familiar with it to find other things funny. (I had forgotten just how much Rocky Horror stole from Bride of Frankenstein) Sort of like Dr. No vs. Austin Powers, it's funnier when you actually get all the jokes.

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The time has come to get out my new Dexters and break 'em in. It's snowing, it's freezing, and it's Arctic gusting--winter has decided to actually occur and I have to wear what my boss rightly calls 'combat boots'. It's war out there, and I'm keeping all 10 of my toes. And speaking of this weather, what is with men who feel it lessens their masculinity to wear a damn hat when it's -12 out? Honestly. Darwin's Theory just isn't culling the herd like it should.

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I just saw the Oscar listings. Hoo boy, do I have a lot of movies to see. Everyone's goal should be to see at least the big five: the five Best Picture nominations. In case you missed it:

The Hours, Chicago, Gangs of New York, LOTR: The Two Towers, and The Pianist.

You have until March 23. See you at the theaters.

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