Buffa’s Buffet: Leave Dolph alone, cancer

5 things on my mind as another week comes to an end.

Sometimes, I swear I’m witnessing time travel. As in, watching days and weeks zip by at ungodly speeds. Since starting a new job in late January, I felt like winter ran off in a hurry. Spring rapidly changes to summer inside a day’s notice. I feel like if I accomplish one or two things after work, I’m scoring a passing grade each night.

FULL TIME JOB = LESS TIME FOR YOU

That’s another thing. A full time job sucks so much time out of daily life. I understand the need to earn and make a living, but when does making a living demand more than a third of your day?

There must have been a margin call at some point-a meeting of the minds between the owners of the world-that said 40-45 hours per week was necessary to live for the everyday human. Once upon a time, people wanted to live here, and there was a cost. That cost continues to rise with each gray hair I acquire.

I just wish there was more time. That’s the daily gripe. Let’s grab a plate, and start dishing hot takes that are actually medium-heated and sensible after being digested.

MISSING NEWS DUE TO THE GRIND

It’s quite easy these days to miss things. Being unplugged from Twitter, which is still the place where news travels fastest, allows the mind to accumulate new stuff at its own pace. Going from sports/entertainment writer in the shit to being semi-retired from the everyday hustle and existent on the outside of the spectrum results in things being missed.

I didn’t know Jamie Foxx was sick and in the hospital for weeks. Jonathan Majors was charged with battery and assault, taking some wind out of his sails. The news reel these days is stuffed full of drama, sadness, and violence.

I didn’t know Dolph Lundgren had been fighting cancer for close to ten years.

He’s in remission these days, but went 15 rounds. Lundgren’s kidneys decided to do what a burglar would have never dreamed of doing: break in and start stealing shit. In his case, it’s his body being invaded and time being taken.

Cancer is more hated than Donald Trump, and that’s saying something. It’s taken so much time and valuable people away. While I don’t know Lundgren personally, seeing him battle cancer stinks. That’s one of my childhood movie heroes slipping disease jabs. Money has nothing to do with the raffle of fate. I hope he continues to eliminate the cells from his body.

Due to a second opinion, surgeons were able to operate and eliminate many of the cancerous cells in Lundgren’s body. It’s always still there, waiting to strike again.

Be on the lookout for a brand new documentary about Lundgren’s life later this year from sports filmmaking renegades Adam Scorgie, Shane Hennessy, and company. They’ve covered Michael Bisping, Grant Fuhr, hockey enforcers, Danny Trejo, and are working on an Arturo Gatti documentary. Stay tuned.

HELLO AGAIN, MS. HEPBURN

This week is one of those movie release periods where I skipped everything. Book Club whatever? Nope. A human trafficking drama called Carmen? Interesting, but not even enough to get a free screening link. When you realize that even 75% of the movies that come out each week aren’t for you, the movies become enjoyable again.

But that doesn’t mean I didn’t see the inside of a theater. The latest oldie to be shown at the Galleria 6 Cinemas was Breakfast at Tiffany’s, an enchanting if overlong movie that cemented Audrey Hepburn as a leading lady. The black dress she wore in the film sold in 2006 for $800,000-which was more than her salary for the film in 1961.

I can see why men were writing bad checks for this woman back in the day. While some women have to throw on a crap of makeup to achieve their level of beauty, Hepburn’s beauty always seemed natural. She used makeup; heck, a handful of scenes in the movie involve her applying it. She was timeless.

The movie, though, was just fine. Some older movies retain their initial magic, and others do not. Tiffany’s is in between those two groups. A witty screenplay that has to cling to a mandatory romance doesn’t make a classic for me.

TIP HERE, TIP THERE, TIP EVERYWHERE

I think tipping is getting out of hand. There’s quite a football field of difference between a solo driver carting drunk souls home in the wee hours of the morning, and a barista pushing a button on an espresso machine. They steam it, clean it, spray it, pour, mix, and sleeve. But when I am in the drive-through looking at the digital tip screen and a pair of piercing eyes, pressure builds.

It’s not the same as your average waitress. They aren’t making the higher hourly wage that Starbucks employees do. It’s not penny cash, ladies and gents. There’s areas where tipping is required, and then we start to get out of hand. Are we tipping McDonald’s workers too? Should I tip the Walgreens lady for not having a useless five minute conversation with me? Explain it to me like I’m a five-year-old, please. The rules and regulations taking place here.

When I deliver expensive toilets in the pouring rain on a driveway that resembles the McDonald’s sign, maybe I should stick my hand out for something extra. Those closing times of stuffing five beyond-hammered people home to their destination deserves mega tips. The Uber driver who took my wife and I home after a wedding earned his $10 tip when he seriously answered a simple question from Rachel: “Is this a rocket ship?!”

I’m not so sorry, Starbucks and Panera. You get tips when I’m in a good mood, or if I know you can make a Flat White. If you know, you know. Also, maybe let us take a sip before asking for a tip. That way, if he poured double the milk into my fancy yet tasty latte, I can refuse a tip. Just saying.

We’ll work on it. Cheat code: Pay in cash, or the mobile app.

THE ROCK IS FAST AND FURIOUS AGAIN

After enduring a years-long ego battle with Vin Diesel, Dwayne Johnson has rode his muscle bod back into the crazy land of Dominic Toretto and his band of lovable criminals. Apparently, they’re unkillable too. Diesel’s Dom has survived crashing a car through three skyscrapers, and made it out of an exploding plane. A garage collapsed on him after a fight with Jason Statham, but he made it out.

The crazy thing is Diesel’s hero always makes it out of a gnarly situation in a white shirt or t-shirt that barely gets stained. Small complaint in a series of movies that make Michael Bay’s action fests look like a daycare visit. F&F used to pack a punch, though, and Johnson helped that a lot.

The Hobbs and Shaw spinoff was better than anything in Universal’s main series since the soulful Furious 7, and the eighth round of this wildly over-the-top nitro-fueled bender showed off Johnson and Statham’s comedic chemistry.

At its best, the Fast and Furious franchise combines stylistic car action, decades-long investment, and some laughs into a good time. Fast X hits theaters next week. I guess The Rock filmed a small cameo teasing his return for the next one in the series, like Diesel did back in Tokyo Drift.

That’s all for now. Tonight is the hangout with the old man. We’re hitting up Milo’s on The Hill, living up to our South City roots. So long for just a while.