Wrinkled army waits
for kiss of steam iron while
tie rack hangs silent.

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When life gets crazy,
best to plow ahead without
worrying too much.

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Intangible, this
sorrow deep within, buried
beneath happy skin.

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To no one’s surprise, the defending state champs are back in the playoffs. Can the Hoover Bucs win their umpteenth 6A championship, glory and free wings?

What cheerleader can’t spell or work a dictionary? Whose dad is a miserable camera-hogging drunk? And who really really really wants it more? These questions and more, on the next “Soap,” er, “Two-a-Days.”

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Can’t afford ticket
to see President, but can
still afford to vote.

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This past weekend’s Sidewalk Moving Picture Festival was a winner. Great turnout, decent weather, fun parties and a strong slate made for an eighth outing worth remembering.

Before the final credits roll, a few more films we caught in the three-day frenzy …

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Fingers frozen from
cold jet stream buffeting my
arctic cubicle.

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Ten teams, including moms/friends Karlyn Harris and Lyn Turk of Birmingham, dashed across Asia in Sunday’s episode of “The Amazing Race.”

The pairs drove ox carts, took down tents and shot flaming arrows during the CBS reality competition, but temperamental jeeps turned out to be the biggest challenge of all. Would Team Birmingham lose because its car wouldn’t crank?

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Stuffy room comes from
allergy to autumn air,
not from boring chat.

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Candidates shill plans
for testing voters’ patience
in choosing suck-ups.

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I lost someone near and dear to me one year ago today. She and I had a nine-year relationship, and many knew her (if only by reputation) to be at times tough, dowdy, amusing, frustrating and downright forgettable.

No one will see her memorialized in the newspaper today, nor will they stop by her grave. She died a long and painful death, and her passing reminds us not only of the fragility of life but the certainty of death. And yet the city moves on, as indifferent to her in death as it was in life.

The Birmingham Post-Herald, May 15, 1950 – Sept. 23, 2005.

R.I.P.
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My hand in yours is
all that I need for freedom
from lonely letdown.

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Ten reasons to check out the Sidewalk Moving Picture Festival, which kicks off its eighth annual event tonight at the Alabama Theatre …

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Film buffs puff in droves
outside Alabama and
along these Sidewalks.

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Every generation has its slackers, or “Slackers,” a cinematically scruffy group of aimless youth interested in no more than casual relationships, “art” and other passing pursuits. Such is the posse of unfortunately named “LOL,” a pastiche of scenes that may very well be perfectly suited to the crowd of teens still coming of age.

Viral videos allow anyone to be director and star, auteur and writer. This reality-tinged comedy seems little more than a strung-together series of YouTube clips, and not the compelling ones of embarrassing stunts or weirdly mesmerizing moments.

The movie screens as part of this weekend’s Sidewalk Moving Picture Festival.

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