Buffa's Buffet: 5 things on my mind, including the return of happiness

Let's talk, folks.

It’s been a minute, or a couple of days. In my mind, if the outside world doesn’t hear what I have to say, an alarm starts going off. Snark it off all you want, but that’s how my brain operates. Our bodies are made of the same shit; our minds are our own. Write that down. You have better handwriting than me.

Now, let’s talk about a few things, including happiness. It’s not always such a sure thing.

Granted, this has nothing to do with my home life. I am married to a smart, sexy, and opinionated Sicilian woman, and have a whiz kid for a son. My job as a dad/husband is easy: Keep the kid alive, feed him and remind him about bathing, and tell the wife she is right 9/10 times. Fairly simple. No, I don’t have a self-help book yet.

To put it bluntly, my dive into the office workplace wasn’t a big success. The dress-up, vacuum-sealed pressurized pop culture think tank wasn’t my forte. Outside of making a few lifelong friends and getting a good whiff of modern day digital marketing tactics, that world just wasn’t my game. Poker isn’t for Ike; office desk jobs aren’t in my wheelhouse.

That could have been why I stopped going to movie screenings, or why the next workday became a landmine in my eyes. Here’s the thing. Nobody builds better walls inside our minds than us. We know our insecurities better than anyone. We can hack our way in easily. So, I closed up for a while in certain aspects.

I wasn’t outwardly mean and never got too low, but could feel life’s burn a little more… if you can understand. When you work in a soul-crushing environment, it does gnaw away at your home life. In retrospect, my ass was being kicked, and it isn’t anymore.

You can’t outrun what you’re good at. What I am good at, and can make good money doing, is warehouse work. After a day with Crescent Plumbing Supply, I can tell you the idea of physical labor doesn’t scare me. I consider a paid workout while I pick parts and equipment for toilets, sinks, and random plumbing supplies. People can’t survive without that shit.

Find something that pays well and doesn’t drive you nuts, and keep on being YOU.

Let’s talk about movies. Great ones. An underseen and great indie crime thriller called “Small Town Crime” is streaming on HBO Max. Starring the wonderful John Hawkes as a disgraced police officer who gets a second chance as a private investigator after discovering a dead woman on the side of the road. Hawkes plays an alcoholic, yet uniquely gifted, detective who plays his cards like a gambler with nothing to lose.

Robert Forster, Clifton Collins Jr., Dale Dickey, Octavia Spencer, Anthony Anderson, and Jeremy Ratchford round out a stellar cast. It’s a quick one too, coming in at around 90 minutes.

The Oscar nominations come tomorrow. Hollywood’s picks for what they thought was classy won’t sit anywhere near my favorites, and that’s fine. I used to defend the Academy Awards, calling them the Super Bowl for the movies. But mostly, especially in recent years with overly dramatic changes and mood temperaments, they aren’t as worth caring about these days.

Loving movies should have nothing more to do than what you consider Best Actor, Actress, and Director. I’ll watch half the show, or I may just see the nominations the next day. The movies I adored aren’t going to be shown tomorrow most likely. At some point, you have to read about stuff like an uncontrollable “fill out the blank” being scribbled in--and then move on.

The live show has started to stink too. Will the Oscars broadcast in March actually be about movies, or just ratings? We shall see.

I nominated the double cheeseburger from “The Menu” for the 2023 CHEF award, in honor of the Jon Favreau instant classic. A movie that makes you satisfied, and hungry as fuck.

The Cards could hire Aaron Goldsmith or Chip Caray for their play-by-play TV broadcast position, and St. Louis baseball fans would be in good hands. Caray brings experience and personal team history, while Goldsmith has a youthful energy that reminds fans of the last guy to do it: Dan McLaughlin.

You won’t find someone like Danny Mac. No way. All you can do is find someone to smother the oppressive attention seeker we know as Jim Edmonds. I think Brad Thompson and Goldsmith would be a great call, but the same could be said for Chip.

It’s getting late, Cardinals. Make a decision. Spring training starts in less than three weeks. Start drinking.

The St. Louis Blues lost to the Chicago Blackhawks the other night. Do we need to say more? Thinking this team is going to the playoffs is like thinking you won’t get the shits after eating White Castles.

Last but not least, let’s get to the rundown:

~Hurray, movie gods. The delightful “Violent Night” is getting a sequel with David Harbour. Making more fun movies is never a bad idea.

~Thank you, Dwayne Johnson, for bringing football back to St. Louis. The latest brand of XFL action, the Battlehawks, are like a cheesy yet lovable 80s action movie on replay. The town embraced them, and then lost them. The Rock, Dany Garcia, and their business partners revived the NFL, thus reviving football around here.

~I’d like to submit my name for the unplanned and never-happening HBO broadcast of the Cardinals games. Unfiltered and stuffed with profanity and guest color analysts, this is the untapped landmine neither league has fully tapped into. Adult games need adult talk.

Goodnight.