Some things that should be depressing are enjoyable; while some things that are supposed to be enjoyable are depressing.
Yesterday, I took the train into town to see a movie, "Control." This film is about the life and death of Ian Curtis, front man of the band Joy Division, a band from Manchester, England.
Presented in stark and effective black and white, the film for me echoed the sound of the band. I always heard Joy Division as a "black and white" sound – in contrast to the full color of the re-formed band New Order after Curtis' death.
The screenplay was based on a biography by his widow, Deborah Curtis, "Touching From a Distance: Ian Curtis and Joy Division." She was also a co-producer of the film. The direction of Anton Corbijn was impeccable and the acting performances were outstanding.
Unfortunately, no birth time is available for Ian Curtis, so I'll have to show a Noon solar chart with an iffy Moon position:
http://i218.photobucket.com/albums/cc298/Frank_Star/Curtis.jpg
From AstroDatabank: Felipe Ferreira quotes a biography by his widow, Deborah Curtis, "Touching From a Distance: Ian Curtis and Joy Division," Faber and Faber, London, p.1. Time unknown; request refused by the Trafford General Hospital without permission from Curtis' next of kin.
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The "some things that are supposed to be enjoyable are depressing" part of this comes after the movie. I had about a 45-minute wait for my train home, so I decided to have a beverage while waiting. Normally, I would go to the brew pub just upstairs from the train station – but that was closed down a few weeks ago because the owner didn't pay the rent.
The next closest place was the Hard Rock Café, a chain that in all my travels around the world I had never set foot in. I figured, "Hey, it's just one beer, how bad could it be?" Very bad indeed, it seems.
Never mind that when I ordered a "a tall Sam Adams Winter Lager" I was told, "You can only get a tall one if you are going to buy the glass."
Huh?
Well, I didn't need another glass, especially an overpriced one that says "Hard Rock Café" on it, so I just had a regular old American size (16 ounce) pint..
After getting my beer, I took a look around. The walls are absolutely crammed with music memorabilia, photos and guitars (we'll get back to the guitars later).
The employees, encouraged to cultivate a "rock and roll" look, are covered with "flair." I thought "flair" went out of style at chain-type restaurants years ago after it was lampooned in the movie "Office Space."
There is a full-fledged retail store next to the bar. Don't forget to stop by and get your "Hard Rock Café" t-shirts, leather jackets and (one would presume) condoms.
The thing that depressed me most, however, was the collection of guitars. The few I could see from my vantage point at the bar (I really didn't want to walk around and look for more – I would have just gotten more enraged) looked like they hadn't done anything to deserve their fate.
Bolted to the wall and collecting dust - overlooking poseurs, tourists, and families from the suburbs eating crappy, overpriced food. These guitars are really living the rock and roll lifestyle. Do the guitars ever get taken down from the wall and played? Doubtful.
Unfortunately, the only reason for those guitars existence today is to justify the over-priced food and drink.
Now THAT'S depressing.