14 October 2007


Late last night, I realized that there are still some things that I do that I did when I was a teenager...
I still watch Saturday Night Live, and I still fall asleep before the end.
I still think Jon Bon Jovi is hot.
I still will spend my last $20 on a CD
I still need $20 to get through the week...some of it goes in the gas tank, some of it goes toward coffee. (used to be soda when I was younger)
I still watch John Huges movies every time they come on.
I still have the televison on when I read. I still have the radio on when the televison is on.
I still wait until the last possible second to get my chores done.
I still play my music loud in the mornings on the way to work (used to be school)
I will still make myself macaroni & cheese , if I am only cooking for me.
I still clean when I'm stressed.
I still mutter when I'm mad.

I am sure there are more things that I do that I just have't realized. However, it's odd to think about doing these things thoroughout all the stages and settings of my life. It's difficult to think that I've been an adult for twenty years. Twenty Years.

1987, in some ways it still feels like yesterday.

03 October 2007

An Abandoned Soap Opera Script

What the hell is going on in Hollywood? Starlets in jail. Car and motorcycle crashes. Breakdowns. Feuds.
It is as if the agents banded together, culled together abandoned soap opera scripts, and set this current Hollywood in motion.

What happened to Hollywood glamour? What happened to discretion? Hollywood used to be considered American Royalty. Now they've become like characters in a graphic novel. Exaggerated.

Is it the media? Is it the agents? The stars themselves? Probably a mixture of all.

In response to an interview question "Why don't we see you in the tabloids?" The Mad Genius's "freebie", Jessica Alba, said "Because when I go out in public, I consider myself at work."
I think she summed it up: celebrities used to conduct themselves as if they were at work when they went out. They were never caught looking less than fabulous, they conducted themselves (mostly) properly. They were at work.

Also, the media used to cut them a break. They'd squelch unflattering photographs, they'd turn a blind eye to compromising situations. Neither of these things happen any more.

I want 1940's glamour back. Bring me Hepburn & Tracy (although they were scandalous in their own right)...Cary Grant, Audrey Hepburn. Give me hats, gloves, walking sticks and suits.
Bring back the glamour! And not just because it's the Academy Awards.

A story about my dad

In honor of my dad's upcoming fight with cancer, I thought I would share our favorite story of us together.

When I was 16, my dad put a new roof on the house. He's been everything from a general contractor to a fire chief, so this was our normal. One day I was up on the roof helping him. I think I was just pulling nails, I don't quite remember.

My parents house sits on a lake. The front of the house has HUGE picture windows. They had taken their fair share of abuse, birds bouncing off of them, brothers throwing pinecones, etc.

My dad was trying to get the last truss pushed off of the roof. It was just the truss but it was a little too heavy for him to push alone so he called me over to help. Now, I am fine with heights as long as I am not on the edge. This required me to be on the edge.

So, reluctantly, on the count of one, two, three...we pushed.
As happens in most accidents, the world slowed to stop-motion speed.

We watched the truss fall and then take a shuddering left turn and down toward the house.


There goes two picture windows, in one shot.

My dad looked at me like, and perhaps even said, "oh shit." He scooted back up to the center of the roof, sat down, took out a cigarette and said "Let's stay up here awhile."

In the ensuing silence, we hear my mom. Thud, thud, thud, thud. We listen to her footsteps to the door. "DAMMIT FRED!" she yells.

He said something like "I know, it was an accident." and my mom lost her mind. She went on rant, reasonably so. Finally, my dad unwisely replies, "What do you want me to do, glue it back together?" I remember biting back a burst of laughter, so far she was only mad at him and I wanted to keep it that way.

You could actually see the fuming silence rise up to the roof. Her response was a house-shaking door slam and shortly thereafter the sound of the vacuum cleaner. I am sure there was much muttering and cursing.

I don't remember much else about the day. Just vividly my dad ever-so-calmly taking out a smoke, waiting for the armageddon that was going to be my mother.

When You're Feeling Blue..

My mom used to tell me that if I didn't feel well or was sad to dress up. Her theory was that it was difficult to feel badly when you're dressed up in your nice clothes. And, a by-product is that perhaps people will comment on how nice you look. So, if you feel like poo, your self-esteem will be feeling great. I've tried it throughout my life and it does help a little, I must admit.

Another random bit of fashion advice...
There used to be an ad on television years ago. (in the 80's) It was for Navy perfume "Because you always feel good in Navy." Of course the super-model spokeswoman was dressed to the nines in navy. And she looked good, I'm assuming she felt good too. This, too, I have found to be true. You do feel better in Navy!

And now, I'll leave you with whatever punchline you have in response...something concerning sailors, I am sure. (:-D