I used to call it "panning for gold."

People would ask why I'd force myself to sit through dozens of mediocre albums and hours of dull films, and I'd talk about those moments of treasure.

There are plenty of answers:

n My first pass through Adam Schmitt's "World So Bright" album. Each song was wonderful, and not cut from the same template. I didn't realize it would become my favorite album ever not named "The Beatles," but it was obvious this was something special.

n Watching "South Park" for the first time and wondering how long this outrageously filthy and spectacularly hilarious show could stay on the air. (It started its 12th season last week.)

n Happening upon the beginning of "Empire Records" while spinning channels on TV. The quirky and comic film (which one friend dismissed as " 'Breakfast Club' in a record store") became an immediate favorite, and it launched my ongoing crush on Renee Zellweger.

Admittedly, those moments can be few and far between. You can force your way through a lot of Christina Aguilera albums and Cameron Crowe movies before you find your way to a "Back to Basics" or "Almost Famous."

But last week, I happened upon two of those moments in a 24-hour stretch.

Ashley Judd

The first moment came while watching a film. "Bug," starring Ashley Judd.

Go ahead and laugh at me. You won't be the first.

For those who haven't seen "Bug" - and judging by the box-office receipts and the video rental charts, that would be most of you - it's not a cheesy horror film about bugs. In fact, one can argue about whether bugs even actually appear in the film.

It's more a psychological horror film, showing a descent into mental instability. Albeit more claustrophobic, it's not dissimilar to "Year of the Dog," the utterly depressing Molly Shannon vehicle from earlier this year which even fewer of you saw.

Judd is always an interesting actress, even when she's in mediocre films, and it's certainly her presence that drew me to "Bug." Her Agnes White is the center of the film, and it succeeds or fails on her performance. By the third act, Judd has to deliver a lengthy monologue that's filmed in one continuous take, a showing that's worthy in and of itself of an Oscar nomination. (Not that anyone should think she'll get one for this film - too many people laughing at the name.)

By the end of the film, when Judd pulls her dress over her head, the nudity isn't erotic or exciting. She's been emotionally naked for the length of the film. This nudity is practically redundant.

"Bug" is based on a stage play. It's difficult to fathom someone being able to perform the role Judd does here on a nightly basis, twice on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Maybe that helps explain why some actors behave the way they do.

Jason Isbell

Jason Isbell delivered the other memorable moment.

Isbell was a guitar player with Drive By Truckers, a band that rose to fame with a double-CD concept album, "Southern Rock Opera." The concept dealt with the story of legendary Southern rock band Lynyrd Skynyrd and dovetailed with songs about growing up in the South.

The band has had a couple of albums make my year-end best-of lists: "Southern Rock Opera" (2001) and "Decoration Day" (2003). Isbell wrote the title track of the latter album but showed his true lyrical skills with that album's "Outfit." A father's admonitions to his young adult son to not follow the life the father has led, the chorus includes the lines, "Don't call what you're wearing an outfit, don't ever say your car is broke."

Delivered in a world-weary voice that belie his age (now late 20s), Isbell announced himself as someone whose work deserved attention. But nothing prepared me for "Dress Blues" on his new album, "Sirens of the Ditch."

The story of a soldier killed in action and returned to the U.S. to be mourned and buried (in his "dress blues" military uniform), Isbell's song skillfully dances that support-the-troops, oppose-the-action line to which many aspire but few generally succeed.

Isbell reveals an astonishing eye for detail, spotting "flags on the side of the highway and scripture on grocery store signs" (what a great line), not to mention the mourners "drinking sweet tea in Styrofoam cups."

As a writer, Isbell is so sympathetic to what he's seeing that I changed my mind about the position he was endorsing each of the first three times I listened to the song.

Both of these performances are memorable keepers. And they'll keep my spirits aloft as I suffer through lousy films and albums in coming months.

Tim Cain can be reached at timcain@herald-review.com or 421-6908.