At the Movies: The Debt

No, I don’t know why this is opening today. I just review ’em, I don’t schedule ’em. On the plus side, since they’re not screening ‘Apollo 18’ and that was the only weekend release I was interested in, I guess I get Friday off.

Summer movie season is over. Time to put away the superheroes and giant transforming robots and focus on more serious fare — like spy movies.

“The Debt” is a pretty decent thriller although it makes that near-fatal mistake that many thrillers do of going one step too far and nearly veering into the ridiculous. But that’s the end, let’s start at the beginning.

A remake of a 2007 Israeli film, “The Debt” centers on three young Mossad agents who were sent to East Berlin to capture a Nazi war criminal in 1966. The film moves back and forth in time between 1966 and 1997. The agents in question are Rachel (Jessica Chastain/Helen Mirren), Stefan (Marton Csokas/Tom Wilkinson) and David ( Sam Worthington/Ciarán Hinds).

Stefan is the team leader with plans to rise in the organization. David is intense and quiet, unable to express his feelings for Rachel. They share a small apartment where they plot to capture Vogel (Jesper Christensen) and bring him back to Israel.

The plan is to sneak the former Nazi onto a train but the plan goes awry, leaving the trio with no way to escape East Berlin and an unwanted houseguest trapped with them in the apartment. A houseguest who’s very good at playing mind games when he’s not gagged.

Eventually the trio make their way home where they are celebrated as heroes. Thirty years pass and a dark secret that the now-retired agents have been keeping all this time threatens to come to light. Rachel is forced to get back in the game in order to keep the past buried.

Director John Madden has crafted a very engaging spy tale. The suspense builds throughout and the twists and turns are clever and mostly unexpected. It helps to have such a fine cast and everyone delivers on the acting side.

Did it work for me? As I mentioned up top, the film does go a bit too far by the end, complete with senior citizen knife fight, but it’s not enough to completely derail an otherwise entertaining thriller.

 

 

LawyerCon 2011: The Agony and No Ecstasy V

A RROY REPORT Special Report

Part the Fifth: The Painful Conclusion

WEDNESDAY morning, 1 a.m.: Man, my back hurts. Why is this bed so uncomfortable? It wasn’t so bad last night. Boy, my back hurts. I need to pee. stumble, stumble, stumble. Why am I not peeing? Boy, my back hurts…Oh, Hell.

If you’ve ever had kidney stones, you know the telltale signs of a kidney stone: back pain, need to pee, inability to pee. Great. I haven’t suffered this particular ailment in five years, but I haven’t forgotten the feeling. I lie back down, toss and turn, and hope I can ride it out — knowing full well that I won’t.

At 5 a.m. I wake the family, we get dressed, go to the lobby, contact a cab and ride to the nearest hospital. I go to the front desk, tell them my story, wait. They eventually take a cat-scan, give me some drugs to relieve the pain, put me in a room, wait. Eventually the doctor comes in to tell me I have not one, but two kidney stones — one on each side. This could pose a problem if they should get lodged in both sides and block all kidney function. He calls in a urologist.

We wait. And Wait. And WAIT (The Wife and Son are saints. I told them to go back to the hotel many times but they wouldn’t.). Around 2 p.m. (remember, we arrived at 5:30 a.m.) the uro comes in and decides to put stents in to keep the stones from causing any blockage, even though they were convinced they weren’t large enough to do any damage. A little more waiting and then they wheel me away.

I was put out for the surgery which was the best part of the day. When I awoke the Wife and Son were there and another attorney and his wife showed up to take us back to the hotel. They also gave me a card signed by many of the conventioneers. Appellate court clerks are the nicest lawyers on earth.

THURSDAY: The original plan was for The Wife to attend class in the morning and then she had the afternoon free so we were going to go back to the Naval Academy and check it out in more detail. The new plan was for me to lie in bed all day while Wife and Son did the touristy stuff. I did not complain.

Did I mention the heatwave broke while I was incapacitated? The weather was quite pleasant for walking about from then on. Not that I got to enjoy it.

That night The Wife had the closing night dinner. After she left I decided to see if I could make the walk to Capital Comics. I barely did. It was a nice shop, a little small. Had a large collection of graphic novels. I walked out with a copy of “Spider-Man/Fantastic Four” that I bought mainly for the art.

As we hiked back to the hotel, I examined all the nice restaurants along the way and knew I’d never be able to eat in any of them. We wound up back at the hotel bar where The Son devoured a plate of fish and chips and I ate a few bites of crab dip.  You take what you can get.

FRIDAY: We packed up, shared a town car with another lawyer, and headed for the airport. We wound up on the crying baby flight. The guy in front of me leaned his seat back (as usual), the woman behind me had a child sitting on her lap and the child used the back of my seat to practice her tap-dance routine. Other than that, it wasn’t a bad flight.

And so ended LawyerCon 2011. I could regale you with more stories of how I got home and my doc sent me to a urologist who took the stents out (most painful thing ever) and then that night the stones blocked both sides and I wound up in the hospital for another surgery and more stents and after, what — 3 or 4 weeks — I am just now getting back to normal.

But that’s another story. And I don’t want to relive it here.

LawyerCon 2011: The Agony and No Ecstasy IV

A RROY REPORT Special Report

Part the Fourth: Here Come Da Judge

TUESDAY: Slept late and missed breakfast. It was worth it. Still didn’t feel like eating, which really sucked. Eating is one of the best parts of vacation. New foods in new places. So far the most exotic thing I’ve had is a chicken sandwich topped with crab dip.

The Son and I walked down the hill to McReynolds Tavern for lunch. It’s an old place but inside looked more like an English Tea place than what I was expecting of a tavern. I had the Cajun Shrimp Wrap, which sounded good — and probably was good — if I’d had the stomach to eat it. I did pull the shrimp out and eat. The Son ate all of his fish and chips, so the trip wasn’t a waste.

It was hot and I wasn’t feeling great, so we walked back to the hotel and got ready for the night’s Big Event, nay, the Big Event of the entire LawyerCon: Dinner at the Supreme Court with Special Guest Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito.

Here’s something you may not know: The Supreme Court is a Big Deal to lawyers. Going to the Supreme Court to a lawyer is like going to San Diego ComicCon to normal people. I had to pack a suit. The Son had to pack a jacket and tie. I was warned repeatedly to be on my best behavior.

The bus ride from Annapolis to DC took about an hour, plus about another hour waiting at the gate for the bomb-sniffing dogs and other official types to make sure two busses full of lawyers wasn’t a security threat.

We walked up the big steps and everyone was taking pictures, then got in line to go in the side door. More security. Everyone crowded around in the hallway trying to get a glimpse of Justice Alito as he made his opening remarks. For lawyers, meeting a Supreme Court Justice is the biggest thing on Earth. It’s like meeting Stan Lee for normal people.

After a brief speech and a few questions, we adjourned upstairs for the reception. An interesting selection of very fru-fru appetizers awaited us. This time they were laid out on a nice spread so you could get a plate and stuff yourself. The way it should be. The Supreme Court knows how to throw a party. If only I’d had an appetite. I did end up eating a few itty-bitty ice cream sandwiches. Even if I had been feeling well, a lot of the food there was pretty exotic.

Justice Alito came in for a bit and The Wife decided she wanted her picture taken with him. It’s the kind of thing people do. We worked our way up and she had a nice chat and I was on my best behavior and snapped a shot. It was as if she’d got her picture taken with Santa Claus. There was a nice patio area outside with a fountain but it was too hot to hang out there for very long.

When the evening was done we were allowed to walk out the front door, which The Wife tells me is a great honor the likes of which few people get to partake. I felt very special. It was a good evening, although I wish I’d felt better, and The Wife had a great time. And that’s what it’s all about, really.

NEXT: I feel worse

 

LawyerCon 2011: The Agony and No Ecstasy III

A RROY REPORT Special Report

Part the Third: A religious experience and a pleasure cruise

SUNDAY: Got up that morning and did something we had never done in our history of LawyerCon. We went to church.

St. Anne’s Church was founded in 1692 (I got that from Wikipedia, not the walking tour) and apparently Annapolis was built around it. As you walk from Loews Hotel to the Bay, halfway there this church stands in your way. Traffic circles around it. The streets run diagonal to it. Even the state capitol is pushed off to its side. Seemed like a place deserving our pilgrimage.

St. Anne’s is an Episcopal Church. I’d never been to an Episcopal Church. It was nice. Very old school. I like that. I’m very old school when it comes to church. Hymnals! I love hymnals. If God intended man to use Powerpoint, he would have invented electricity much earlier. And hymns that are older than I am! I love hymns that are older than I am.

Of course, the pews were old and hard, but not everything about old school is good. The church was impressive, the choir was quite good, the service was well done. There was one part where some guy kept reading and reading about stuff that went too long. All in all, a decent religious experience.

That afternoon The Wife had a meeting so The Son and I hung out in the room a bit, tried to take a walk but it was too hot so it was a short walk. That night was the usual opening reception, auction and slide show highlighting last year’s con. We were promised a chocolate fountain and “heavy appetizers,” so we figured that would suit us for the night.

The chocolate fountain was spewing full force when we arrived so we got some strawberries, pretzels and marshmallows, but man cannot live on chocolate alone. Sadly, the appetizers were being served in that annoying way where staff walk around with plates and you have to wait for them to come over to you or you hunt them down and then you can only get 1 or 2 shrimp or whatever at a time. I hate that. Put the food out on a table, give me a plate and let me at it.

So we hit the bar, got our drinks, stood at a table and waited for the food. And waited. Occasionally someone would bring over some shrimp or some miniature crab cakes. The mini crab cakes were delicious. I could have eaten an entire tray of them, but of course it doesn’t work that way. As luck would have it, those few small crab cakes would be the only Maryland crab cakes I would have all week.

MONDAY: The Wife had class all day. The Son and I slept late and had a late breakfast. The breakfast spread was the same every day: Bacon  (nice and crispy), sausage, eggs, melons and breads of various kinds. The Son ate well, I did not. I like breakfast food but not in the morning. I’m not a morning eater.

That night was a boat cruise. Lawyers seem to like those. It seems like there’s one every year. This was a nice one. Some impressive houses on the shores of the bay. There was a decent spread of food on board, but by this time I had once again lost my appetite so I didn’t eat much. Despite that, it was a very pleasant night.

NEXT: A Supreme Reception

LawyerCon 2011: The Agony and No Ecstasy II

A RROY REPORT Special Report

Part the Second: A Walking Tour from Hell

SATURDAY: The Wife had a meeting in the morning but the rest of the day was free so she signed us up for a 3-hour walking tour of downtown Annapolis. Sounded like a good idea at the time.

We arrived in the lobby at the appointed time to be greeted by a man dressed like Ben Franklin or some other founding father and a woman dressed like Betsy Ross or some other founding mother. There were so many of us that we had to break into two groups. As we so often do, we picked the wrong group.

Oh, there was nothing wrong with the group. NCACC lawyers are the nicest lawyers you’ll ever meet. Their families are nice too. I should have said, we picked the wrong leader. We went with the woman, who was nice enough and very, very, very knowledgable. And she wanted to share that knowledge. In very, very, very great detail. I knew I would forget everything she said 10 minutes after she said it, so I wasn’t really that interested. Plus, I had a 20-year-old autistic adult to keep entertained, and listening to the history of Annapolis wasn’t going to do it, no matter how fascinating.

I knew we were in trouble when she talked a good — I dunno, two hours? — before we even left the hotel. Ben Franklin’s group left long before us. We finally ventured out into the sun and, did I mention this already? We’re in a heatwave. At every shady spot our guide would stop and yadda, yadda, yadda, and did I mention there are no benches in downtown Annapolis? Did I mention it was hot?

We made it into the Capitol where there was, thankfully, air conditioning and a water fountain, but still NO BENCHES. Are you kidding me? How can you not provide seating in the state capitol? Now, I’m not a lawyer. I don’t stand up all day arguing for justice. I’m a writer. I sit. I sit all day. And thanks to the laptop, I no longer have to sit at a desk. I can sit on the bed and write. I can sit on the couch and write. I’m doing that right now, as a matter of fact.

So all the walking and the talking and the standing was starting to wear on me. Did I mention I hadn’t been feeling well? Did I mention it was hot? It eventually reached the point where every time she would stop and launch into another lecture, I would just sit down. I sat on the sidewalk. I sat on the street. I sat in the burial chambers of John Paul Jones. The Son usually joined me. The Wife, I’m sure, was aghast. It didn’t make the tour go any faster.

Finally — and this is the best part — we’re at the Naval Academy. We can’t tour the chapel because a couple is getting married. Our guide tells us the wedding is almost over and would we like to wait for the wedding party to come out so we can watch the traditional smacking the bride and groom around thing that goes on at Naval Weddings? Everyone agrees to wait. Everyone stands around. I notice a stone bench nearby and take The Son for a sit. There’s a water fountain next to it. It’s broken. Taunting me.

FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, the wedding party comes out. Did I mention it’s hot, and I don’t feel well, and stone benches are not comfortable, and the water fountain doesn’t work? Our 3-hour tour took at least 4.5 hours and I couldn’t tell you a single thing about the history of Annapolis when it was over.

When it was finally over, we were back at the riverfront and The Wife suggested we get something to eat. I was hot, exhausted, thirsty and not in the least bit hungry, but too tired to disagree. Plus, it probably made more sense to eat now that walk back up the hill to the hotel, rest a bit, then walk back down the hill and eat later. Which was my plan.

We wound up at Buddy’s Crabs and Ribs. It was advertised as being “kid friendly,” which I thought was odd given that crabs and ribs don’t strike me as a kid’s meal. But then I didn’t grow up on the coast.

We walked up the stairs and sure enough it was packed with little ones (We later learned that “kids eat free,” which may have something to do with it). The Son had his usual Fish and Chips, The Wife had the Crab Cake, and I had the Annapolitan — a chicken breast covered in crab dip and melted cheese. My goal was to have a crab cake at some point but now was not the time. Too hot, tired and not really in the mood to eat. I did manage to eat most of the sandwich, which was very good, but punted the fries. The water was delicious.

After all, I would have plenty of time to eat a Maryland Crab Cake.

How naive I was.

NEXT: Getting religion and a pleasure cruise

LawyerCon 2011:The Agony and No Ecstasy I

A RROY REPORT SPECIAL REPORT:

Part the First: In Which Things Aren’t All That Bad

In previous installments we established that the finest of all LawyerCons took place in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Shocking, I know, but they had an awesome dinosaur display at the Carnegie Museum and dinosaurs everywhere and I got to visit not one, but two, comic book shops and I found a rare Hawkeye figurine at one. Beat that, Key West.

I can now, sadly, report to you the flipside of that. Because LawyerCon 2011 was the Worst. LawyerCon. Ever.

Oh, but don’t blame the lovely city of Annapolis, Maryland. From what little time I spent out and about it was a very nice place. I’m sure the food was delicious. The comic book shop was adequate and within walking distance of the hotel. The Naval Academy seemed nice, from what little I saw of it. I wouldn’t mind going back some day, preferably not in August.

Nay, the problem lie not with Annapolis. The problem lie within myself.

You see, a few weeks prior to our trip I stopped eating. I blamed it on an unending heatwave and various stresses in life, and didn’t worry much about it. Lord knows, if you’ve seen any drawings of me, I could stand to lose some weight. At the badgering of friends I agreed to see a doctor, but couldn’t get in until after the trip. No big deal. Besides, my appetite had started to come back a bit.

Onward, to Annapolis.

FRIDAY: We had to go in a day early this year because The Wife was on the National Conference of Appellate Court Clerks Executive Committee (Not to be confused with the real Executive Committee). I usually hate travel days but this one started off fine. It probably didn’t hurt that there was many a nun on our flight. Two of them sat behind us on the plane and as they were saying the rosary The Wife assured me that everything would be OK. Also, it was a direct flight which meant no chance of missing a connection and only one opportunity for the Horrible, Terrible Pain of Descent.

The plane left on time and arrived on time, the pain was familiar and I’ve learned to live with it. We didn’t have lunch so we shared the Southwest provided bag of cookies and peanuts as well as a bag of Chex Trail Mix. It is at times like this that I love how perfectly simpatico we are. The Son got the cookies, I got the peanuts, The Wife got the raisins and Chex cereal, the Son got the pretzels and chocolate bits.

We took the 45-minute drive to the Loews Hotel in downtown Annapolis. The bed was large and waiting for me. Free HBO. The Wife had signed us up for some executive rate that meant we could go to the lounge and use their computer with Internet access and included breakfast each morning and snacks and drinks throughout the day. The plan, because we’re frugal travelers, was to eat a late/large breakfast and skip lunch.

We checked it out and got some sodas and Quaker Granola Bars. The Son would eat many of them before the week was through.

It was now suppertime so we walked up the hill a short distance to Lemongrass, where we enjoyed a delicious meal of Thai food. I was eating pretty well at that point although I probably would have eaten more if I’d been up to normal.

After dinner we decided to walk down the hill to Chesapeake Bay. Have I mentioned how freaking hot it was that day? The heatwave had not yet broken and it was a long walk to the waterfront. But a pleasant one (Although not so pleasant going back, which was uphill all the way and no cooler). Main Street had many interesting eateries and shops — and did I mention a comic book shop? We didn’t stop that day as I figured I’d have plenty of opportunity in the days to come.

How naive I was.

NEXT: The Walking Tour From Hell

At the Movies: Conan the Barbarian

If you’d like to wrap up your summer movie season in blood and gore, go see “Conan the Barbarian.”

If not, I suppose there’s always “Fright Night.”

This latest take on Robert E. Howard’s classic fictional character isn’t a remake of the 1982 film that made Arnold Schwarzenegger a movie star, but it shares the same basic plot: Would-be god-king comes to young Conan’s village, slaughters everyone but Conan, Conan grows up determined to get revenge.

This time around the would-be god-king is Khalar Zym (Stephen Lang), who has come to a small village in Cimmeria to collect the last piece of a magic crown. The piece has been hid away by Conan’s father (Ron Perlman), but with help from his witchy daughter Marique (Rose McGowan), Khalar gets what he came for. He then burns the village to the ground, and only young Conan (Leo Howard) escapes.

Khalar’s plan is to resurrect his dead wife — a powerful witch. To do so he needs the magic crown and a woman of “pure blood.” Apparently this type of woman is hard to find as Khalar spends the next 20 years looking for one. But that’s OK, because it gives young Conan time to grow up into hunky Jason Momoa.

Adult Conan spends his life thieving and pirating and occasionally freeing slaves. One day he runs into one of the men who used to work for Khalar (He remembers the man after all these years because he chopped his nose off.).

Conan finally has a lead on the man who killed his family and in another convenient coincidence, he rescues Tamara (Rachel Nichols), the pureblood woman that Khalar has been looking for, from the stooges Khalar sent to abduct her.

If you’re looking for almost two hours of violence, gore, standard sword-and-sorcery scenery and set designs, decent special effects, and the occasional glimpse of a woman’s breasts, that’s what “Conan the Barbarian” delivers. And really, what right do you have to expect more from a Conan the Barbarian movie?

However, if you are the type who likes character development and an intriguing story then you won’t get much out of “Conan the Barbarian.” It’s basically another videogame-as-movie, with Conan going from place to place and fighting a bunch of bad guys here and a monster there.

There’s little humor or emotion of any kind here, and it just kind of sleepwalks to the end. You’d expect a guy with the power of a god to be more formidable but Conan basically defeats the villain by pulling the rug out from under him.

“Conan the Barbarian” is not a reboot of the caliber of such recent restarts as “Star Trek,” “Batman Begins” or the new “Planet of the Apes” movie.

Did it work for me?  I enjoyed it on the purely superficial level that it was aiming for, but I can’t recommend it beyond that.

This movie is available in 3D, but since I had to pay to see it I didn’t bother spending the extra cash. I doubt it would be worth it but I can’t say for sure.

Before You Go: Conan the Barbarian

Welcome back to “Before You Go,” the segment where I prep you on whatever big nerd movie is opening tomorrow. Just don’t use the word “nerd” around Conan.

I should have my brother do this but he’s about as fond of computers as Conan, so I’ll do my best to muddle through.

Know, O Prince

Conan is the creation of pulp fiction writer Robert E. Howard. The first Conan story was published in 1932 in Weird Tales magazine.

The tales are set in the Hyborian Age (Don’t bother looking it up in your world history timeline. It begins sometime after the sinking of Atlantis, whenever that was.), a time when swords and sorcery reigned supreme. Conan is a wandering thief/pirate/mercenary from the harsh northern land of Cimmeria.

Conan is typically a loner but he does team up with others from time to time. Basically he roams the landscape and has adventures usually involving half-naked women, evil sorcerers and giant snakes. He worships the god Crom — well, worship is too strong a word — he shouts out Crom’s name a lot.

I once had to do a dramatic reading for speech class and I read an excerpt from a Conan book and the teacher was surprised and somewhat impressed. I’m sure it’s the only time Robert E. Howard was read aloud at Stockton High School. I suspect you’d get banned for that today.

Hither Came Conan 

In 1970 Marvel Comics acquired the rights to publish a comic book version of Conan. Written by Roy Thomas and drawn by Barry Windsor-Smith, the book became one of Marvel’s big hits of the ’70s, spawning a number of spin-off comics and magazines.

For myself and many others, the initial appeal of the Conan comic was the artwork of Barry Smith.  Smith had a unique style that was unlike anything else in comics at the time (He also drew my first Avengers comic around this same time, one of my favorites). And his work improved from issue to issue as he became more intent on putting fine detail into his drawings. Eventually the monthly comic grind became too much and he left “Conan” after the 24th issue.

Which is where I come in. My first exposure to Conan the Barbarian was my brother’s copy of “The Song of Red Sonja” — issue 24. It’s one of my favorite comics. The story was unlike any superhero comic I’d read. Conan wasn’t a hero — he was a brawler and a thief. In the story he gets talked into sneaking into the king’s treasury by Red Sonja, a fiery redhead and master manipulator — of Conan.

And Conan’s not in this gig for the loot — but the (false) promise of sex afterward with Sonja. Like I said, not like any comic book I’d read before. My brother never got that issue back, although the copy I have is so torn and ratty I guess I should just give it back to him.

“The Song of Red Sonja” was your quintessential Conan story, complete with barroom brawl, Conan being suckered by a lovely woman, and a giant jeweled snake that must be slayed. It also featured Barry Smith’s ornate art at its very best.

Marvel published Conan comics through the mid-1990s. Dark Horse Comics took over the license in 2003.

Conan! What is best in life?

To crush your enemies,

see them driven before you,

and to hear the lamentations of their women.

By 1982 Conan was popular enough to make his big screen debut. It was also an important moment for a certain bodybuilder turned actor, Arnold Schwarzenegger. I remember enjoying the film back in ’82 but I recently watched part of it on AMC and found it pretty ponderous. It has some great lines. It was certainly much better than the sequel that came out two years later.

The new film features Jason Momoa as the Cimmerian. I know nothing about Momoa and little about the new film. I’ll have a review tomorrow but they’re not advance screening it in St. Louis (not a good sign) so the review will be late in arriving. Depends on when the first matinée ends.

Read More About It

You can find dozens of Conan books in the sci-fi/fantasy section of any bookstore. I don’t know which ones are any good. I emailed my brother for assistance with this section but haven’t heard back. If I do, I’ll update. My advice would be pick up anything with Howard’s stories in it. Oh, and it has to have a Frank Frazetta cover.

As for the comics, I have two to recommend. First is The Essential Conan, which collects the first 25 issues of Marvel’s run. It’s out of print, though, and I hear it’s hard to find. I might sell my copy if the price is right.

But if you can only afford one Conan comic collection, make it The Chronicles of Conan Volume 4: The Song of Red Sonja and other stories. This Dark Horse produced book of early Marvel stories includes my two favorite Conan comics.

The first is “Song of Red Sonja,” which I spoke of earlier, and the second is “Red Nails,” the final Thomas-Smith collaboration. After leaving the monthly title, Smith came back to Conan one final time to draw this three-part story for one of Marvel’s spin-off Conan magazines. The art is fantastic, the story is really creepy, and it’s all in glorious color.

And that’s all you need to know — Before You Go.

UPDATED: The Pointless, Worthless List for 08.17.11

Top 6 Barbarians

1. Conan of Cimmeria

2. Atilla the Hun

3. Groo the Wanderer

4. Beowulf

5. Hagar the Horrible

6. Kull of Atlantis

For the Record: Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers, ‘Rare Bird Alert’

Some months back Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers were out making the rounds to promote their team-up album, “Rare Bird Alert.” I enjoyed the performances, and I’ve always been fond of bluegrass, so I emailed the library, put the record on reserve and waited my turn.

It finally came and I can’t stop listening to it. Is it too early to declare the Best Album of 2011? Too bad, because I just did. If you love bluegrass, and the wit of Steve Martin, “Rare Bird Alert” is the record for you. If you don’t love bluegrass — well, my sympathies.

I’ve long been a fan of Steve Martin (tho’ not all of his films) and especially admire his ability to combine comedy with the banjo. Who wasn’t impressed by his chops when he’d break into “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” during his Wild and Crazy standup days? Who doesn’t love the banjo? Probably the same pathetic souls who don’t appreciate bluegrass.

Now he’s put his musical skills center stage (in addition to vocals and banjo, Martin wrote most of the songs), in collaboration with the talented Steep Canyon Rangers. There’s plenty of the humor you’d expect in Martin’s lyrics, but he also shows he knows how to compose a stirring instrumental.

Like most bluegrass albums, “Rare Bird Alert” is a mix of instrumentals and songs with vocals.  Let’s just go down the track list:

1. Rare Bird Alert. An excellent instrumental that really kicks the album off in high gear. Notable for its odd breaks, it’s the best instrumental on the record.

2. Yellow-Backed Fly. Humorous tune about the eternal struggle between fisherman and fish.

3. Best Love. Paul McCartney sings lead on this lovely tribute to the common and mundane aspects of life and loving someone. Probably the best thing McCartney has recorded in years.

4. Northern Ireland. Another jaunty instrumental.

5. Go Away, Stop, Turn Around, Come Back. Another funny ditty about a guy who just can’t decide if he wants to break it off with his girl.

6. Jubilation Day. Martin takes lead on this hilarious tune about a guy who has definitely decided to break it off with his girl. Perfect bluegrass tune, the highlight of the album.

7. More Bad Weather On The Way. Mostly instrumental, this song begins a 3-tune break from the comedy and break-neck pace of the earlier songs. It’s still pretty up-tempo.

8. You. The Dixie Chicks provide some lovely harmonies to this melancholy tune of lost love.

9. The Great Remember (For Nancy). The banjo can also make a sad sound, and a uplifiting one, as demonstrated in this instrumental.

10. Women Like To Slow Dance. Time to pick up the pace. The band advises men on the secrets of romance through dance in a song that, naturally, runs at the fastest speed of any tune on the album.

11. Hide Behind A Rock. Another jaunty instrumental.

12. Atheists Don’t Have No Songs. Gospel-tinged lament for those godless sinners watching football in their underpants. Hilarious.

13. King Tut. Bluegrass remake of Martin’s ’70s hit. If I had to pull one song from this disc, it would be this one. The song’s still funny but it just doesn’t fit in with the rest of the album. Probably why they put it on the end.

To sum up: I cannot more highly recommend “Rare Bird Alert.”

Note: If you download this album off iTunes, spend the extra 99 cents and also download the single Me and Paul Revere — a fun, clever tune about Paul Revere and his ride. Historical accuracy not verified.