I only know the basic plot of Into the Storm, and I know some of the characters damn near get blown away, and maybe some actually do get blown away. Whatever else happens, the cast is enjoying themselves:
Everyone was smiling at WonderCon:
And our guy most of all at times:
He seems happy with what he’s doing. That sense of lightheartedness and joy has run through almost all of his interviews about Into the Storm, and it has made me rethink the movie. I have taken it way too seriously. Sure the subject matter is serious, but then so was the subject matter of ConAir. and somehow that was fun.
I could be so wrong, but Richard Armitage is a bit readable. I don’t mean about everything he does, but oftentimes he reflects the nature of what he’s working on, and with Into the Storm, I see him smiling a lot:
I’m taking this as a sign we’re in for some fun times come August 8th. And Sharks be damned. :D
In the meantime, I really appreciate Heather sharing her work with all of us. She’s been a wealth of wonderful photos, and dare I say some iconic images of Richard Armitage. It does help that she’s a professional photographer. In fact, I have sometimes forgotten that because she is so laid back about it and just makes it look easy, and she happened to already be working WonderCon. Yay!
I told her I did not want to forget this time, and if you have never had the pleasure of seeing some of her other work, I created a gallery for you all to sample it.
The images above are also in large format (big mothers; I’m warning you, but they’re worth it). Click to access. The remainder of Heather’s photos for this event will be up at RichardArmitagenet.com later today or tomorrow.
Note to Heather: I could swear RA is looking at you in some of these photos. It does help that you’re tall. LOL!
edit: I was tired when I wrote this, hence the misspelling. It so happens I’m getting ready for one of the biggest meetings of my life. If I nail this client, I am going to have a slew of work. It has to go right!! Prayers and good thoughts welcomed.
Okay, so I skipped a few days in my A to Z blogging. So what. It seems I never got on the official A to Z board, so I don’t think they give a damn what I’m doing.
Do you want the truth of why I haven’t blogged in the last few days or a nice story?
Okay, a nice story it is!
I woke up on Thursday morning last week, and not only did I realize my income tax return was as close to zero as I’ve ever gotten it ($12.00) — yeah, that’s where I don’t have to pay, and the damn government doesn’t get to keep much of my money interest free — but I also made a trip down to the local convenience store where I purchased a lottery ticket. I have not done that in, oh never mind, I just haven’t done it in a long time. Last time I did it, I bought five tickets, and when none of them were winners, I stuck them above the radio in my car where they stayed for about three years so I wouldn’t be so stupid to pay a voluntary tax ever again.
Ever again came the other day and there I was buying a ticket, but this time I got lucky. Yeah, that’s right. I won some money. How much? Enough that I can do whatever I want now. I may even go to London to watch a performance of Richard Armitage in The Crucible. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled by that. And the good news is that I can buy like two weeks or maybe even a month’s worth of tickets in case he happens to get sick for a few nights while I’m there. Wait. That doesn’t sound quite right. Don’t tell SO I said that or that I just can’t stop looking at this:
click for the big version
Rich,
I know you’re smiling just thinking about my coming to London. Yeah, c’mon, I know it. :D
But I have some bad news. I really didn’t win anything, and I haven’t been around because I’ve been sick as a dog. I’m not sure how sick dogs can get, but it must be bad ’cause this has been a real ass kicker.
Maybe I’ll be fit by the time Comic-Con rolls around — if you’re going. If you’re not, then I might get sick again.
Enough of my bellyachin’, I hope WonderCon was a kick for you. If that picture is any indication, it was. Oh wait. I happened to see a video that I may razz you about later. I think a few bloggers have already, but I may need to weigh in as well. :D
Signed,
A crazy fan who is not crazy about the flu.
P.S. I hope sometime in the near future I can smile like you.
P.P.S. I’ll bet the Crinkle Zone has wet their pants over this photo.
Candid shot courtesy of Heather (that girl needs a website. :D).
At first glance I was convinced most of David Hewson’s books were not my thing. My reading fare does not usually include murder and mayhem. I have read some Richard North Patterson, Scott Turow, maybe some Patricia Cornwell and a few others I can’t remember when I’m in the mood. But I’m not in the mood often. It’s not clear to me why since I love puzzles. Maybe when I have a great stretch of time and absolutely nothing to do, I’ll examine it.
Despite my prejudice, I subscribed to Hewson’s blog, and something surprising popped into my in-box. As I read, I started to grin and then I laughed out loud. A real LOL. Imagine that, and provoked by a serious journalist and crime novelist. Here’s the part where you start thinking of all the crime novelists you know who are funny. Goodie. Feel free to share. Until Hewson, I didn’t know of any.
And now I’ve bought A Season for the Dead and have just started reading. Even if I find no caped crusader, why do I get the feeling Hewson will be into me for several more dollars before this is over…
How many of you have run a business? Raise your hands. Yeah, those of you who have run an enterprise for a decent length of time know it’s hard as hell. It’s like raising a child, and an unreasonable child at that because he doesn’t let you go to sleep at night, and when you finally do, he wakes you up. And no babysitter for him. He’s with you all the time. If by some quirk of fate he’s not, you are constantly thinking about him and what you want him to do next, and what he may do next that you don’t know about. But you don’t really mind any of this because he is after all, your child.
Right now I’m in the grip of this, and despite the unruliness of it, I’m enjoying and finding success. This makes it hard for me to give myself over to fan behavior as often as I once did. If I were a genius who had 48 hours in a day, I might be able to pull that off. But obviously I’m not. I’m just one person trying to make something that wasn’t there before.
I’m also the oldest child, which means I’ve often been placed in charge and feel most comfortable there. Man, I sound like an ass, but hey, it’s the truth. When you’re put in charge of the house or your younger sibling, it does things to you. Dare I say it makes someone bossy (no matter their sex)? Let me amplify that. I want to give advice and lecture, and it’s hard sometimes to keep myself from doing that. How’s that for some honesty?
I can also spot younger siblings from a mile away, and Richard Armitage has the demeanor of a younger sibling written all over him. Before I knew anything about his birth order, I knew he was a younger child. Older siblings never have the deer in the headlights look. If they ever had it, that was beat out of them at an early age. So when I see Richard, I often want to tell him what to do. LOL! Yes, I’m laughing. At the absurdity of that. But hey, I press on. :D
Where is all of this leading? You have to ask?
Richard,
There’s a lot of old thinking floating around. It says someone who is 42 almost 43 can’t break into Hollywood, or make any kind of major life change that’s productive to anyone but themselves. Don’t listen to that crap. Yeah, it’s crap. And those who listen to it are destined to be like most everyone else. I made one of my best life changes when I was around that age and know it was productive for others. And now I’m making another one and I’m, oh never mind, I’m supposedly too old to make a shift. Hogwash.
Anyway, you are unique, and I hope you stay that way, but I also know you’re trying to figure things out in this new phase of your career, and you’re not God and not going to make perfect choices. I would love to see the person who does. Whatever is going on, there is something so utterly appealing about who you are that it inspired me to write about you off and on the last four years. If you really knew me, you would know that is not anywhere near my MO. And there are lots of others in your “fandom” who are like me. They have been surprised at their reactions because it’s just not typical for them. But many of us have eventually figured out why the reaction, and it comes back to the fact you are not like other actors. It’s not just that you have managed at times to capture these slices of emotions that are so real they reverberate for years, but you have a kind of purity that seems like we can see to your back collar button. To wit your comment about being an actor [around 1:00]:
This also means your “trajectory” is probably not going to be like others. I’m totally okay with this and hope you are too most of the time. That’s what this note is about — a bit of cheerleading in case you’re not and from someone who is not a cheerleader by nature. Encouragement is not my strong suit. I’m a critic most days, and it’s so easy to be a critic. Any moron can be a critic. But I like you well enough as an actor and also as a person to step out of my comfort zone and say, “Keep going!”
Maybe this quote below is hackneyed. Doesn’t really matter. It’s true and still good to hear, and I’ve had it on my office wall for years and often glad. It knocks me out of the pompous critical mode and hopefully before it leads into harm of myself or anyone else:
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
— Teddy Roosevelt
Mostly, it keeps me from becoming like David Letterman, a guy who used to be funny, but now just comes across as a bitter, frustrated, old crank.
As for “a worthy cause,” there is nothing wrong with making a living. That’s a damn worthy cause, and speaking of which, I need to get back to work.
Signed,
A Fan who is sometimes crazy but not today.
Yep, this is some Armitage Protection Mode. Why? Isn’t it obvious? I like the guy. But that’s not all this is. A story or maybe two short ones, and then I really, really have to go back to work.
When I started my first major business, all I heard was how it could not be done or how I was was doing it wrong — this latter mostly from people who had never run a business. LOL! Whatever the case, negativity was coming at me in unbelievable waves. I realized at the time I was doing something that most people don’t do, and since many around me could not conceive it, they were going to deem it impossible. Funny enough when I was successful, I heard another story from some of those same people. Things like, “I knew you could do it.” Oh yeah. I have a good memory, and I knew they were full of it.
I doubt I could have weathered that kind of talk if I had not had a great role model — my parents. My mother became a lawyer when females were still far in the minority of that profession. But her biggest sin was going to law school after she was married and had children. That simply was not done in the late 60s/early 70s! Never mind she was summa cum laude upon graduating from college and had never failed at anything academic in her life. She was turned down from her first pick of law schools because off the record she was an established (read that: old) married mother of two underage children. I know that was the case because one of the former professors of that law school and a close friend of our family contacted the school to find out how someone with her academic record and achievements was turned down. Mom was 31 at the time. This seems ludicrous now, but that was the conventional thinking of the time.
Obviously she didn’t let that stop her, and my father was her biggest supporter. I’m so glad I was old enough to take mental notes about what they were doing and to remember the large number of people (both men and women) who told my dad that once she had a law degree, she would have no use for him? WTF? My dad ignored that and pressed on. He and my mother were crazy about each other and married until my dad passed away over 25 years later. And from all of this I learned the priceless lesson that the masses do not know best. Their thinking is too homogenized and unimaginative and like water. Ever seen water run uphill? Yeah, I figured not.
Think the ubiquitous Barbara Ann, and for those too young to know, to wit.
It was hard to decide on a topic for B. There are probably a week’s worth of topics in my draft posts about this letter. Actually, I’ve struggled with several letters wanting to take over and be posted on more than one day.
Since this is nominally a Richard Armitage blog, it seemed natural to post something related to him and B, but I can’t do it because I have always made this place safe for work, and the only B that comes to mind in regard to him is his performance in a piece that would take us into waters potentially not safe. No, it wasn’t porn. Wait. That’s not entirely accurate. For the British, it isn’t porn. In the US, it would be considered soft porn and frankly, I realized from learning of this that I may well be a prude. No, I am a prude. AT least about people having sex in front of me. I admit readily. But using some foul language to adequately describe things that cannot be described with more pristine words? I have no problem. Watching someone’s bare bottom in flagrante delicto? Nah, that’s not my thing, because I’ve never thought of sex as a spectator sport and don’t plan to start. A provincial American view? Yes, I’m a bit provincial at times, but hopefully none of that equates to boring, which is another word I thought to post on.
Boring is the shark that nips at a blogger’s heels. To be boring is to bring death, or so it seems. So how to prevent it? Be yourself, take chances and if you have to be anonymous to do this, then do it. Frankly, the biggest obstacle I’ve seen to blogging is that people think they have nothing to say. If they’re trying to sound like everyone else, then they don’t have anything to say that can’t be read at thousands of other sites. Boring.
But this is easily solved with a practical solution that doesn’t require you to undergo a head change before you begin. Merely keep an idea log. I used to carry a very small spiral notebook around with me to jot down ideas as they came. That got to be an obstacle because I got my best ideas while driving. I bought myself one of these, and it was revolutionary! These days I use my phone, and I’ve thought many times what in the hell did I do before I had these devices? Lost a lot of great ideas.
Now for the really important part to remember if you start collecting ideas. Don’t think too big. Yeah, I said think small. Some of the best ideas come from something seemingly small and fairly mundane such as seeing a dad carrying his small son on his shoulders, and then the dad turns around and you notice he (the dad) is wearing something at odds with what you would expect dads to wear while carrying their sweet little ones on their backs. If it’s fall or winter, a nice plaid shirt would seem apropos, or if it’s spring or summer, maybe a polo shirt. Not a t-shirt with a picture of a dog trying to lick himself in unmentionable places (notice my pronoun choice). I started laughing to myself about that when I wasn’t grossed out, and I was eating at the time too. Yuck. It occurred to me that my thoughts about this were probably shared with others, so I wrote a piece about it. Maybe I’ll post it before this challenge is done. Not sure yet.
In the meantime, a photo of Richard for your edification if you’re so inclined:
Oh heck, a couple more, and no, these aren’t from the piece referenced above. These are all from a show called Strike Back:
This is my first post for the 2014 Blogging from A to Z April Challenge. Therefore, some people who are not Richard Armitage fans will be dropping by to check me out. This post is for them.
Hello! and welcome to my fun place. Mostly this is a humorous site, and occasionally I pontificate about various subjects. You thought it was all about some chap named Richard Armitage? That’s some of it. And right about now if you are wondering who in the heck is Richard Armitage? He is this guy:
Thorin Oakenshield from The Hobbit; you can get a thumbnail of his work here.
Richard is a muse, if you will. He and more so his fans prompted me to enter the blogosphere as a writer who documents something other than vacation pictures and an occasional rant about current events. That’s mostly what I did before I entered this space, and I did it with my real identity. It was not fun. I was inhibited and unimaginative and so careful about my words that it would have taken aeons to develop a voice and certainly to be interesting. The specter of screwing up was the biggest obstacle, and so I removed that by throwing off the shackles of my identity and flying free with my thoughts. And yes, I do some fangirling, but I’ll try to keep that at a minimum during this month. No promises about Sunday.
I’m talking to myself, but then A.J. Hartley has us all in a stir with his news this evening, and I had to purchase his Macbeth. I bought the audio book as well. It’s performed by Alan Cumming, and so far it sounds great. I have high hopes of it being worth it to the end. As for Alan, in short he is interesting. Go here if you want to check him out.
I hate to admit it, but my first thought of him was as the bad guy in Spy Kids. That tells you where my head’s been the last 15 years. I’m going to forget all of that this evening and listen to an adaptation of my favorite Shakespearean play, and a role I long to to see Richard Armitage perform on stage at some point.
Oh, and if you own a Kindle, in the U.S. you can borrow the book and add on the Audible version via Whisper Sync for only $4.99. Not a bad deal.
Whenever I think of Richard Armitage these days, I mostly think what he may be doing about his career. I also remember he’s a sly one at times as he was when he was shooting Captain America. No one knew about that until he was in the middle of it, and I chuckled to myself at the time and then I wrote this:
RA’s Diary
Entry — On Location with Captain America
The afternoon before my shoot:
I finally got to Manchester and met with the production people. It was fantastic to be back on a movie set. Much different from “Frozen.” So much has changed in just a few years, and this picture has some serious money behind it. When I was younger, I’m not sure I cared about that, but now? I understand the importance of capitalizing these things after all of the legwork I’ve done on Richard III. I will definitely be taking notes. Wonder what Dad would think of a comic book version of RIII? No, no, I could never do that, but damn that would be funny. Visions of Monty Python run through my head.
My only real irritation right now is the potential for a gaggle of women to show up on the fringes of the set. Please God don’t let that happen. I already have too many friends trying to take the mickey out of me about that, and it’s hard to be taken seriously when a bunch of middle-aged women indulging their fantasies are standing around. And I just want to work without having to be cordial. But I will be polite if need be because it’s my middle name. I’ve certainly had that beat into my head. As it is the hair on the back of my neck was on end at one point when I was standing in the street getting instructions about my shoot tomorrow. Thankfully, I saw no women and only a couple of guys taking video from their cameras. I almost hate video cameras.
[click to enlarge]
The next evening:
One of those guys put video on YouTube, and there I am in the middle of it. I tried to make myself smaller when I caught them in my peripheral vision, but I’ve never been able to scrunch down enough to hide. What was I thinking? And I felt like I was 16 again and couldn’t decide between embracing my size and wanting to be invisible. Even if I could have made myself shorter, I guess my arse is recognizable and some make a study of it. There is that one blogger who goes on about my thighs, which I guess are part of my arse, and yeah, when I wore black leather there were a lot of flattering comments. Maybe it’s not so bad, and I didn’t really mind my prison scene or my boiler suit scene. That did make me feel good for a while, and of course there was my scene with Julie. But those were my naked arse and not my covered arse. Shit! Why did I have to wear that stupid jacket? I need some long coats and a few more hats.
Sorry but I had to get inside Richard’s head again. It helps me stay in touch with my X chromosomes.
For some who have no sense of humor or who are action fans, YES, this is a fake entry.
Disclaimer:
At no time in the writing of this entry did I imagine I was really speaking for Richard Armitage nor did I deceive myself into thinking I really know his thoughts. Therefore, there is no need to involve his agent or publicist in what is supposed to be humorous. Of course I realize tone on the net is not always properly conveyed, and hey, I’m not a writer (I just have lots of crap I want to say), so I’m not taking the chance of being misconstrued.
Have a nice day. :D
Note: I’m blaming my lack of inhibition about posting this on my cold medicine and having just read James Franco’s Actor’s Anonymous. ;p
Photo courtesy of Hobbsy and his video from whence the photo was taken, if you’re interested. :D
Valentine’s Day happened, and I had the response I usually do which is no response. But the first year I was married, I became self-conscious about not celebrating Valentine’s. That was before I learned SO refused to be put in a box. Originally I thought it was a cop out on his part as most guys don’t like Valentine’s. But it turned out he was more romantic than I was.
And along the way I’ve figured out I’m not really sure how this love thing is to be done. I just know how SO and I have done it, and I’m satisfied with it. I’m satisfied with this man who has been charming, funny, witty and kind, and also gotten me out of my doldrums and self-centeredness on so many occasions. If he had not done that, I know I would have missed out on so many good times. Like the times afforded by his company who would give him a new car every couple of years, and he got to select it, and conservative me never would have picked this car, but SO did:
and off we went down the highways and byways and always with a song to begin. This one:
The first time he put on that song, I rolled my eyes. He laughed and said, “Lighten up!” I did and quickly realized that song has the ability to put me in a mood which shouts, “Anything good can happen today!”
He followed that song with this one below, and while it was playing, he would usually look over at me and grin, which was actually a leer, and I would receive his message.
As I got into what we were doing, I began to have my favorites for the road. First was this:
And this:
SO also had his favorites:
And this one which is pretty much an anthem for SO:
Oh, yeah, and:
Before we knew it, we were up to three 90 minute tapes. We wore those tapes out going to San Francisco for July 4th, Washington D.C. for New Year’s, Florida for President’s Day, and many other trips. Some during holidays and some not. The best ones were spontaneous. We would have a few days off, get in the car, just start driving, and see where it took us. One time we ended up near Canada but didn’t have time to go across the border. We did that another time. And that may not sound like much, but we lived in Texas at the time.
SO went on to pick some other really cool vehicles while he worked for that company, and I have fond memories of all of them but mostly of him sitting in them.
Today I was remembering these things as I’ve done so many times, and I asked myself, “Who needs a Valentine when you have all of this?” I surely don’t and have not missed it.
No Richard Armitage segue other than to say:
Richard,
I hope you can find someone whom you can live, laugh and love with. It is sweet.
Signed,
A Crazy Fan who’s not that crazy about Valentine’s
I made a playlist of some of our road songs. They’re in no particular order but the first two, and it’s certainly not all of them. SO reminded me of a few I had forgotten. But I was too lazy to add them and leave you with a sampling indicative of our tastes.
edit: this post is in no way a commentary on the Valentine’s love being spread amongst fans. I think that’s great! :) This post is a response to myself. I’ve bitched about so much in life that I wanted to bask in something I should be ridiculously grateful for.
It’s interesting being a pseudonym because no matter what, you’re still you.
With respect to RAFrenzy, this is me, and yes, I’ve toyed with being the “other me,” but then I am the other me when I’m here. What you see is what you get. There is no difference (a rose by any other name…;-)
If I ever thought there was a difference, my friends who knew me before I started this place have disabused me of that notion by laughing when they’ve read this blog and said, “That is so you.”
And what do they mean by that? I take very little seriously, and myself most of all. Oh, sure I take some things seriously about life and myself, but it’s my belief that way too much is made out of most things. Have I lapsed into being pompous and taken myself way too seriously on occasion? Oh yeah. I’m human aren’t I? Last time I checked I was, but I try to remember I’m not God and don’t make perfect choices.
I do try to correct my poor choices as quickly as I can, and one way is to laugh at myself. If I can do that, I can laugh in general. And laughter really is good medicine.
Please notice I don’t mean ridicule — the laughter designed to create pain. Granted, there is sometimes a thin line between ridicule and just the joy of laughing, and when it is crossed, there is usually misery. But happy people do not want to create misery. Maybe put out some snark sometimes when they see something that is just utter bullshit (as opposed to regular bullshit)? You bet. But to try to do harm to someone? No, that’s what miserable people do.
And if I don’t know anything else about this RAFrenzy thing, I do know one thing — I am not here to be miserable. :D
No picture with this post. I’m too lazy this morning to find one that would fit, and dare I say, I’m on my way to church. Yeah, I know that bugs some of you, but oh well. I can’t be someone I’m not, and I do believe in God (a very specific one at that), and He loves me bad language and all.
Maybe after I’ve heard a lesson this morning, my mind will be more clear and I can select a good pic.
RAFrenzy 
