greetings!

This is the first weekend since June that I have found myself at home without a place to go. Of corpse, being in my abode all weekend does not mean that there is nothing to do. In fact! I am in the midst of working on the Fall edition of MovieJawn, which will feature Cinematic Deals With The Devil. Having some time off from the road also gives me a chance to bring you the latest edition of Sundae Matinee, and there is so much to tell!

Without further ado, let’s dig into the latest scoop, shall we?

Pinch me… I must be dreaming!

Recently my partner in crime, Benjamin and I made the trek to Canton, Ohio for another magical cinematic weekend at a majestic movie palace for the Monster Bash Ghost Film Festival at the Palace Theater.

Sometimes it is hard to fathom that this is my life. Every now and again the past comes knocking, and I can’t help but get lost in the time that came before this moment. The days of slingin’ produce, wrapping burgers at Wendy’s, peddling DVDs and VHS tapes at video stores, shoveling popcorn at the cinema, and my last career as being a resource for humans with a side of spreadsheets. All of these experiences have led me to this exact moment in time in which I am now living: My Incredible Movie Life.

As I traverse the land with Benjamin at my side, spreading the good word of our movie publication and all the amazing work of our MovieJawn staff, I never want to lose sight of what came before. I am on a journey, a wild cinematic expedition that will ultimately lead to my destination and purpose. Each and every adventure over the past year has been part of my exploration. I am in discovery mode, chartering the celluloid seas in search of the place I fit best. It takes courage to QUIT and I feel that taking the first step into the unknown was the hardest part.

what’s the latest scoop?

I Pet A Dog.

I don’t know the exact date or time, but I what I am able to affirm is that this particular activity quickly became part of my regular routine.

Every other Wednesday I visit my therapist and, on the way home, I began to swing by a local pet shop window. From outside, I would peer in at the pup that was available for adoption. I never felt the urge to go in, it was more of a way to lift my spirits after pouring out all of my emotions. On August 13th, though, I went inside.

There is no other way to put this but, I felt like this entire moment in time was some type of out of body experience. There was most definitely witchery magic at play… and without a doubt, Li’l Foxie was involved.

For those new around here, Li’l Foxie is my late friend that I loved more than life itself. You can read all about her here.

Something spiritual told me to pet this pup that went by Gorilla Joe, and so I sauntered through the door, completed the waiver (in case I were to be bit), suddenly found him in my lap, and I was bawling. Life flashed before my eyes and there were two messages made clear: you need to slow down and it is OK to pet another a dog. The voice was Li’l Foxie - or at least, how I believe she always would sound if she could talk. I can’t express to you how significant this experience was to me. I mean, I did cry after all. It will be two years come September that I lost my familiar, Foxie and, well, life has never quite felt the same. The idea of having another dog was not even something I fathomed in the slightest until that moment. Until that moment, that she told me it was OK.

I’d love to give you the Hollywood ending here and tell you that I adopted Gorilla Joe and we now live the most exciting cinematic life filled with treats, long naps, and stuffed animals galore. However, that was not how this tale was supposed to end. Joe did indeed find a home, and I am hopeful he is living a life of pure splendor. I may not have brought home a new furry friend, but, with this incident, I received a vision of a different life. A life that moves a bit slower and is filled with new experiments and a new lab assistant at my side.

this week i am proud of…

coming from a long line of hucksters

I am rather quick on my feet, and often don’t need to be shown something more than twice. Heck, I recently (last weekend) just conducted a spontaneous Q&A and didn’t even break a sweat. Much of this, I feel, can be credited to my upbringing, and due to spending many of my formative years being part of a family business.

As I have mentioned in previous posts, I grew up working for my grandparents at their farmers market in Northampton, Pennsylvania. At the age of nine, they had me operating a register and slingin’ produce. By eleven, I was lifting fifty pound bags of potatoes up and over my head while reciting my multiplication tables. Over the years, I have grappled with my loss of childhood but have, in turn, grown a fondness and appreciation for what I did experience. I truly got to know my mother’s side of the family and, for better or worse, it has made me who I am today.

On a recent adventure to Maine with my mom aka Mother Wolf (in case you didn’t know I was raised by wolves, but that is a tale for another day my friends) it was revealed that I come from a long line of Hucksters.

Road trips often spark some of the best conversations, and the latest escapade with my mom we were not short on talk. One of the topics that arose was: How did my grandfather ever start selling produce?

Well, much like me, Richard Dean Davis was not keen on working a traditional job. One day, while enroute to his nine to five at the Bethlehem Steel (yes, the one referenced in that Billy Joel song “Allentown), a lightbulb was illuminated… and he decided to take action on his idea. The next shift he came to work with a pick-up bed loaded with cantaloupes and started selling them in the parking lot. According to my mom, his father Herbert was a bit of a peddler himself, so it is more than likely that this is where my grandfather found the inspiration.

He quickly realized he could make more coins slingin’ produce than punching a time clock. This led to him riding aside my grandmother, setting up shop on street corners and knockin’ on doors, selling anything from potatoes to tomatoes. Eventually they bought their own storefront, and the rest is history.

My grandfather passed away suddenly when I was fifteen and it shattered me. There is so much I wish I could ask him and tell him. There is never enough time, especially with our loved ones. It thrills me to know this little piece about his past, and I treasure that my mom has given me this story. Learning that I have huckster blood running through my veins made everything become crystal clear for me. I truly do wish he could see what I am up to now, and to hear about my latest scheme.

The Suitcase Scheme aka How I Became a Traveling Salesman

Someone ghosted me. It is a long story and I don’t want to waste my time or yours getting into it. But with every negative happening comes a silver lining. My plan is to test this latest experiment at Fantastic Fest 2025 in September. The Details: I am going to pack up and old suitcase, don my best cinematic wardrobe, put on my tap shoes, grab my cane and begin a new chapter: THE LIFE OF A TRAVELING SALESMAN.

With this case, I am now able to bring MovieJawn merchandise to the people, and spread the good word on any street corner - anytime, anywhere. A mobile shop that can swiftly be closed in seconds when the fuzz is on the trail.

I have already started working on my patter and have learned much from reading Geek Love on what it takes to lure in customers. Picture it! In my best carnival voice, while tapping: Do you like movies? Step up right up my pretties, and take a gander at the most amazing cinematic publication your eyes shall ever see!

I got the case, I got the cane, I have the threads… now I just got get the shoes. I will, of corpse, let you know how this all plays out.

This week I recommend…

Watching THE BIG STREET (1942)

I was fortunate enough to catch a 35mm screening of The Big Street with my partner in crime this past Wednesday and absolutely loved it. Coincidentally, it is also part of Turner Classic Movies’ Summer Under The Stars (and was even one of my flick picks, which you can read about here).

A demure busboy, Little Pinks (Henry Fonda) gets entangled with a self-absorbed singer, Gloria Lyons (Lucille Ball), at the nightclub he works at after she suffers a debilitating attack from her mobster boyfriend. With an ensemble that includes, not only Ball and Fonda but, Eugene Pallette and Agnes Moorehead, I am quite shocked that it took me this long to uncover this flick. Don’t make the same mistake!

Lucille Ball was such a force on the screen and does not get enough credit for her non-comedic roles. Her delivery in this film was beyond perfection. However, probably the most wild and unexpected turn of events was that I now am totally crushing on Henry Fonda. This truly is something, dear reader, that I never in my wildest dreams thought would occur, but leave to Summer Under The Stars to once again teach me the way.

Find where to watch The Big Street here. I shall be procuring a physical copy post haste.

Thanks for stopping by.

Happy you are here. xx.
goodbye.