
The picture shows the cover of my
most recently published book -- I haven't actually seen it and don't know if it's on the market anywhere yet -- I found this image while browsing the web (that's right, I routinely Google my name, just like everyone else in the Universe). It's the German publication of a book I created last year for TULIKA in Madras. The German publication is a co-production. Its name in English is "I AM DIFFERENT!" and it's a collection of picture-puzzles, where you've got to locate the one item that's different on each page. The reason I say "created" rather than "drew" is that the images are collages, with 3D paint decorations surrounding them. So the effect is sort of interesting -- too bad it wasn't possible to print the book as a touchie-feelie item. The Indian edition will be out some time later this year.
Meanwhile: last night I watched Peter Sellers in THE PINK PANTHER -- the first movie of the series, starring David Niven, Claudia Cardinale and Capucine -- and ... ouch! I was very saddened and puzzled to find that it just didn't work for me. I can remember laughing myself sick during the final scene with the ridiculous zebra-costumed men galloping across a street in Rome. But last night I sat mostly stony-faced through the movie last night. *depression* I SO wanted to enjoy it!
Instead I found myself wondering how a turtle-faced old man like David Niven (very dashing in his youth) could have possibly hoped to romance a slinky-eyed kitten like Claudia C -- and of course I thought it was utterly bizarre that she was apparently INDIAN. Wheehoo. Capucine was gorgeous but once again, I found myself feeling tremendously sorry for poor old cuckolded Clouseau -- so blinded by love, so idiotic. All in all, I just felt sorry for everyone and not even the famous gags involving the two (actually THREE) gorilla suits and the idiotic zebra and the crossed identities worked at all. I had entirely forgotten that the plot was so involved and that Niven was supposed to have been the star and that his professional identity in the film was "The Phantom", not the Pink Panther, which was of course the name of the jewel he was trying to steal ... oy, oy, oy.
On a lighter note, however, let it be said that the feature BEFORE the Pink Panther was Steve Martin's MIXED NUTS. And, implausible and ridiculous as it is, there were many hysterical moments to be had. Maybe I should just avoid seeing it 20 years from now? Hmmm. Assuming I'm still on this plane of existence, that is ...
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