Thursday, May 31, 2007
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Secondly, I’m in a little trouble with Satan. He seems to have gotten an inordinate amount of feedback on the bedspread post. Even the police department has weighed in on the subject, helpfully suggesting he go ahead and keep the “Chenille Number Five” because, if, God forbid, Lowertown ever floods, it could easily do double duty as a signal flag. Also, the S-man is not happy about the fact that everybody that sees the pictures continues to classify the bedspread as “pink”. The color is coral, people, coral!
And now for a few recent links of interest from across the pond, as they say:
First, this piece on death on the web from the BBC. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I'm completely okay with memorial sites where people can leave written tributes to the dearly departed, but I'm not sure how I feel about "funeral videos". Somehow, that just doesn't seem right to me. Color me old fashioned, but I just am not too pro about imagining my funeral tape potentially filed away next to a dusty copy of "Rambo" and an empty case that used to contain "The Little Mermaid" in somebody's entertainment center. On the other hand, if I were filed between "Husbands and Wives" and "All that Jazz"? Well, that would be a bit of all right.
Nextly, this piece from the Daily Mail on the why the politically impotent Prince Charles didn't just go ahead on already and marry arfy Camilla Parker Bowles in the first place. Turns out, things weren't all together, ahem, shall we say pristine "down there" thanks to the wild week of her debutante ball back in '65. This will definitely be one for the Netflix queue. And, PS, actually, I have to say Camilla was pretty cute back in those days.
And, finally, from our own country, this piece from the New Yorker on the dismal state of the republican party as a result of GWB's disastrous presidency. Here's what, in part, Newt Gingrich had to say:
Not since Watergate, Gingrich said, has the Republican Party been in such desperate shape. “Let me be clear: twenty-eight-per-cent approval of the President, losing every closely contested Senate seat except one, every one that involved an incumbent—that’s a collapse. I mean, look at the Northeast. You can’t be a governing national party and write off entire regions.” For this disarray he blames not only Iraq and Hurricane Katrina but also Karl Rove’s “maniacally dumb” strategy in 2004, which left Bush with no political capital.
Hate it for 'em.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Saturday, July 28
Smokey Robinson 7:30 p.m. The Carson Center. Does your love life need a boost? Grab that special someone and be serenaded by the smooth soul singer Smokey Robinson. Ain’t nothing like a little Smokey to stir up some spark! 270.450.4444.
I don't know about you, but I LOVES ME SOME SMOKEY! Near as I can tell, this event is not even yet listed at the Carson Center website. I called them immediately and found out tickets go on sale June 11th. Trust me, I will be there. Nobody does sexy falsetto like Smokey. NOT Aaron Neville, NOT the BeeGee's, NOT Prince and sure as HECK not what's-his-face Justin Timberlake. Also, the S-Man and I actually agree that, yes indeed, Smokey is The Bomb.
And here I have to interject that I have it on good authority that Smokey MIGHT HAVE HAD a little bit of "work". You know, as in his face has been completely reconstituted and draped back onto his skull. And, once I was apprised of this situation, I only had one question: But what does his voice sound like? And, I'm happy to report it's as good as it ever was (according to my Source).
So...we're on! Me and Smokey and his whole new face. Yes, indeedy, July 28th!
Monday, May 28, 2007
Sunday, May 27, 2007
(Climbing into a festival golf cart with Satan in my new VS bra.)
So! What do you think about my new boobs?!
(Glances down at my feet.)
Those aren't boots, they're sandals.
Next a conversation with Christa:
It just seems like, with clothes these days, it's one extreme or the other out there!
You said it.
It's either "granny" or "teeny-bopper" and there's not much in between.
So true! But, I swear to GOD, I'm not going "granny". Oh, HELL no! I'm just not doing it I don't care how old I get! I'M JUST NOT!
(What's funny about that conversation you ask? I'll tell you what's funny about that conversation: at the time, I was sitting in my living room wearing an ankle-length long-sleeved flannel night gown, an irony that hit us at exactly the same time, right after I made that last rather emphatic statement.)
Lastly, a quote of the day from Satan's new favorite book "The Big Curmudgeon":
People say to me, "You're not very feminine." Well, they can suck my dick!
That one cracked me and the S-Man up for an innappropriately long time this morning over coffee.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Lost time! Yah, that's it!
Friday, May 25, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
I feel a headache coming on. I have to look away...
Monday, May 21, 2007
Today, it's Jimmy Carter. Former President Carter points out in an interview with the Arkansas Democrat Gazette that the Bush administration has the worst international relations record IN HISTORY. He also points out that Bush's funding of "faith based initiatives" to the tune of $2 billion might be just a tad unethical (or words to that effect) and allows as to how the US's new policy of participating in pre-emptive war is a radical departure from any previous administration ever.
Also included in some AP versions of the story:
Douglas Brinkley, a Tulane University presidential historian and Carter biographer, described Carter's comments as unprecedented.
"This is the most forceful denunciation President Carter has ever made about an American president," Brinkley said. "When you call somebody the worst president, that's volatile. Those are fighting words."
First of all, I'm not sure the addition of Doug's opinions to the article are particularly relevent or newsworthy. Or even appropriate. The story, it seems to me, stands on it's own.
But be that as it may, I'll work with the story as is. I would respectfully ask that Doug and the Associated Press consider the possibility that Carter's words also might just be the the truth. What about that? Isn't that the real story? Maybe the story here is a little bit bigger than the fact that Jimmy and George have a a conflict. Maybe a former president and Nobel Prize Winner is uniquely qualified to shine a light on The Problem.
And I think, at this point, people on both sides of the aisle are beginning to acknowledge that there is a Problem.
Maybe the fact that George has proven to be an incompetent boob surrounded by a near impenetrable cadre of yes-men (and women) making an unprecedented amount of distrastrous decisions costing over a thousand American lives is really the issue here. Just maybe.
In any case, Jimmy himself has already backed up. Oh, my, no, it seems, his remarks were "careless or misinterpreted". Evidently, the worst thing in the world is for a former president to criticize a sitting president. Above all, we can't have that! Nope!
Meantime, the Emperor will continue to march around with no clothes and everything will be just fine.
(shhhh....If only we don't mention it.)
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Friday, May 18, 2007
Thursday, May 17, 2007
I completely drove into a curb in my car at lunch time. Then, later, I was running across a parking lot in my high heeled pumps (don't ask) and suddenly I realize I'm running along minus a whole entire shoe which is several yards back where I ran out of it.
Fortunately, the perfect antidote to that sort of day is SUSHI!
My friend La Donna and I found out recently that, though we knew each other, we did not know that we each were having a passionate love affair with that most special of Japanese treats.
So, we made plans for a big sushi dinner and invited our sushi-hating friend, Rhonda, who only likes food of the cooked variety. Although...we hadn't been at the sushi place for long when we hit on a Japanese delicacy we all could enjoy: saki.
Specifically, FREE saki.
Here is Rhonda with her free saki. Her hand is all blurry because she is in a hurry to have another sip. She is smiling like that as a result of her first sip which made her very happy.
And...I guess it was sort of right after that that the whole dinner sort of turned frat party. Next, we have photo of La Donna enjoying her free saki. And the reason the entire photo of La Donna is blurry is because I was in a super big hurry to enjoy my free saki.
Sorry, La Donna!
(Although...La Donna might actually be secretly glad no one got a clear shot of her at the sushi frat party.)
So, yah, there was free hot saki and sushi and then free cool saki and sushi and we're throwing napkins and taking up four tables and before you know it, ba-da-boom, ba-da-bing, we're all going to New York City!
It's really nice when a day turns around all of a sudden like that.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
First, a report in the local paper on the controversy about what to call the neighborhood I live in. Is it “Lowertown”, or “Lower Town”, or “LowerTown”? Good LORD, we must get to the bottom of this!
AND, (brace yourselves), there has been a BigFoot footprint sighting at a major wilderness area to the east of us known as Land Between The Lakes. That’s right, BigFoot (Or is it “Bigfoot”?) lives! At LBL! And he’s leaving footprints! DIRECTLY in the path of BigFoot researchers! It just so happens!
Immediately, upon reading the Big Foot news, I dropped everything and called the world’s biggest BigFoot fan: Satan.
Have you ever seen that “In Search of Bigfoot” show on the Discovery Channel? Where a team of researchers tromps all over the greater northwestern United States armed with the most sophisticated Bigfoot Research Equipment known to man? They have Bigfoot cameras! Bigfoot audio recording devices! Infrared night vision Bigfoot binoculars!
And for a solid two hours the Bigfoot researchers roam the wilderness (always in the dark for some reason) searching for Bigfoot. Finally, after a full hour of the show has elapsed, they are sure they hear Bigfoot! And then for the next half hour they are sure they smell Bigfoot! And then, finally, there’s a grand finale where they find a tuft of what is obviously Bigfoot’s fur! Caught on a barbed wire fence!
EUREKA! And then the show just...ends.
I have seen this show, people.
Yes, I have seen this show FIVE TIMES.
Because, despite the fact that Satan is too good to be subjected to any of my favorite fluff TV like “Clean House” or “Mission Organization”, there is simply no limit to his capacity for Bigfoot TV.
It doesn’t matter if we’ve seen it before. Is it BIGFOOT?! Then we’re watching it again, baby!
Yes, Satan loves him some Bigfoot.
Which doesn’t exactly explain why he’s asleep on the couch instead of at LBL right now.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
- Sleep in, but not so late that the morning is over when you get up.
- Sip stout coffe with cream whilst the S-Man reads hilariously cutting quotes to you from his new book "The Big Curmudgeon". My personal favorite: I'm gonna memorize your name, then throw away my head.-Oscar Levant.
- Realize it is a perfect spring day while watering plants on the balcony.
- Skip down to the neighborhood coffee shop to purchase fresh strawberry shortcake made with berries from the Farmer's Market.
- Admire Satan's newly planted rose garden.
- Discover a sweet, loving happy mother's day message from your stepson, Matt, on your cell phone voice mail.
- Receive a surprise visit from your son bearing a beautiful card and a gift sack full of wonderfully scented candles. When you open the sack it plays, "How Sweet it Is to be Loved by You" . You open the sack. A lot.
- Entertain your mother on the balcony with a box luch you both walked down together and picked up at The Stranded Cow restaurant.
- Eat the strawberry shortcake for dessert.
- Receive an extremely delightful happy mother's day call from stepson, David.
Editor's Note: Step number ten was changed after publication because getting a call from David is even better than an afternoon of repotting on the balcony.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Friday, May 11, 2007
The other morning, in our Kankakee hotel, I awoke to a frantic Satan pacing around the room, gathering up stuff for his suitcase. I did not move, however, or give any indication of consciousness, since the Trip Anxiety was so thick in the air you could have cut it with a butter knife.
Eventually, though, Satan turned his attention to me, the inert lump in the bed.
GET UP! Get up NOW! It’s late!
(Turns the 100 watt reading light on in my face.)
(from under the covers)
Oh no you didn’t.
We HAVE TO GO.
(This goes on for a while) (Finally…)
(I get up. Begin stumbling toward the shower.)
(Stopping me on the way.)
Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.
(Turning back toward the bed.)
(Grabs me by the arm..)
Okay, now listen. You remember where the car is parked, right?
(Though standing, I manage to doze off again.)
(Gives me a little shake.)
Are you LISTENING? Okay, the car is down the hall and to the right outside the door, okay?
Yes, it is. That’s where the car is, okay? Now. I’m going take my stuff out to the car and load it up. Immediately across a grassy median from the hotel parking lot is a Cracker Barrel. I’m going to walk over there and order us breakfast. You then, when you’re ready, will pack your stuff, carry it down the hall, and load it into the car, and then drive the car over to the Cracker Barrel. Meanwhile, I’ll already have us a table and have breakfast waiting. So! What do you want for breakfast?
Yes, damnit, BREAKFAST! Have you not heard a word I said?!
Umm…what time is it anyway?
(On the verge of exploding from Trip Anxiety Anxiety Overload. A wisp of steam escapes from his left ear.)
Uhh…right. Okay, how about a diet coke?
That’s it. That’s all you want? Diet Coke. Do you have your car keys? Do you know where the car is?
For the LOVE OF GOD JUST ORDER ME SOME F---ING BREAKFAST, OKAY?
At this point, I escape to the shower. When I’m finished I emerge from the bathroom to the sound of my ringing cell phone.
I ignore it as I apply my make-up and get dressed. It rings at regular intervals. Eventually, I hear the two-beep sound that signals a voice mail.
When I’m completely ready, I listen to the message:
(Speaking very slowly and distinctly as if I am a semi-conscious mental patient.)
I’m AT THE CRACKER BARREL. I’m AT THE BACK TABLE. When you come in the FRONT DOOR, look to your LEFT. TO YOUR LEFT.
(I choke out a sound that is somewhere between a giggle and a sob.)
Eventually, I make it to the Cracker Barrel and find Satan AT THE BACK TABLE TO MY LEFT. I sit down across from him.
Did you put your luggage in the car?
No, it’s actually currently up my ass.
You know, a lot of people have Trip Anxiety.
What are you talking about? TRIP anxiety?
(I sigh and look away, but can still see him from the corner of my eye signaling to the waitress to bring our food, so the whole thing will seem like a perfectly timed and brilliantly executed plan.)
(Digs into his breakfast looking extremely proud of himself.)
You know, we could just leave the hotel together like normal people. Having a plan only gives you the illusion of control over the situation, not any real control.
Good GOD, could you be any more full of sh--?
Eventually, we finish breakfast.
Are you finished? Do you need to go to the bathroom? Okay, here’s what we’re going to do…
Thursday, May 10, 2007
I saw many of the interesting chairs crafted by artist, Gary Knox Bennet, a 72-year-old who is currently producing a collection of one thousand chairs. They had about fifty at the RAM. We also made a stop at the local arts guild which had an exhibit of reproduction quilts used in the Underground Railroad. Racine, it seems, was a major player in the movement and women of the time hung quilts out on the line to send covert signals to those traveling to freedom.
After that, we met up with Mark and we all dropped our bags at our room, actually in a very nice B&B on the lakefront (pictured above). And, by the way, WHAT a lake front. It dwarfs our little riverfront to a mud puddle in comparison. Lake Michigan looks more like the ocean with no land on the horizon whatsoever. I snapped this photo just now after crossing the street directly in front of our B&B.
Then it was off to lunch at a nice enough downtown watering hole. I've taken to ordering my burgers medium well these days as it cuts down on cooking time. It turned out to be a grave mistake today, however, since my burger came out positively tar-tar. As in it MAY have been waved over the grill a few times. I sent it back and contented myself with Mark's fries which he was foregoing. They brought the burger back only slightly less moo-ish. I think it may have still had a pulse. Good thing the fries were tasty!
After that, I was taken on a short driving tour of the town by a super nice Racinian (sp?) named Fred who drove me by some interesting local landmarks along with his own painstakingly restored gingerbread-covered intricately painted Victorian.
And then it was back to the B&B for a blissful afternoon of quality time to myself with the camera, and a wireless connection. Heaven!
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
It has come around to me again by way of being actually pressed into my hands and accompanied by the words, “You HAVE TO read this.”
For the unaware, the book is essentially a textbook for getting in touch with your inner creativity, information on what stops people from doing this, and exercises designed to break through one’s creative barriers.
I haven’t exactly engaged in each and every exercise, okay, I'll be honest, in fact I haven’t performed any. The book’s main device is something called “morning pages” an exercise in which one grabs a pen and paper immediately upon awakening and jots down (unedited and, at first even unread) all the thoughts ping-ponging around in one’s head at the time. According to the author, Julia Cameron, this has the effect of draining distractions from the creative mind, freeing the artist up to focus on the business of being creative.
I haven’t tried this because, as anyone who knows me will tell you: I AM NOT A MORNING PERSON. It’s something of a miracle I respond to the alarm at all.
On the other hand, there is something else that is also true about me: The Mormon Tabernacle Choir lives in my head.
Trouble is, instead of belting out inspiring renditions of The Hallelujah Chorus, they are all talking at once, each about something different: the grocery list, that bathroom that needs cleaning, whether or a not I’m a good enough parent, musing on why my wave petunias haven’t sprouted, reminding me to make that appointment to get my oil changed, wondering if my patent leather faux croc pumps would work with my new denim Capri pants…
You get the picture.
And, before you point out that hearing voices is a sign of mental illness, let me just say, YES I KNOW THAT, THANKS! See, my voices aren’t telling me to KILL anybody or anything like that and, besides, according to my good friend, Julia, it just MEANS I’M CREATIVE.
Ahem. As I was saying, even though I’m not actually doing it, the whole philosophy of needing to drain away distractions really rang true with me, as did many of the other concepts in the book.
Julia talks a lot about the creative process being divinely inspired; more of a channeling of something than a thing that is actually conjured up all by one’s lonesome. And, I have had the experience, not often mind you, but at times, of feeling like what I am writing is not being written by me per se but rather that it is being written through me, if you will.
I realize that none of these concepts are really new, but they are certainly presented in a way that is very accessible and inspirational. I recommend the book for creatives and constipated creatives everywhere.
And only a mere fifteen years late! Next I'll be rhapsodizing about the wonders of the cotton gin and extolling the virtues of the horseless carriage!
Now, if you’ll excuse me, The Mormon Tabernacle Choir just reminded me of a few hundred chores that need tending to.
I will leave you with this from “The Artist’s Way”:
One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time.