Looking Out My Back Door

Life is Good

2011-04-24T22:16:00.000-07:00

I love to travel. In the next few months, I will be visiting Delaware, Baltimore and Tennessee. In the fall, New England, Chicago, and the Bay area, with a detour to Laguna Niguel to hang with some of my favorite peeps. SWEET! I just returned from a couple of days in North Carolina, and that was absolutely wonderful. It's a big plus when you have either great clients and/or dear friends to visit. Monte Carlo is also not out of the question...and if you haven't been kissed in front of the Casino, surrounded by luxury cars, you haven't really lived!

Holidays are fun when you spend them with people you love, as I did today (Easter Sunday). I even made up candy gifts for the kids who could have them, and purchased stuffed animals for the ones a bit too young for candy. Yep, The Grinch did it! I stun myself when I find myself making trips to stores for this sort of thing, but it's all good.

Before all this travel and fun is my uncle's 75th birthday. My aunt is planning a special dinner for him -- either out, or at home. If at home, I suspect I'll be barbecuing succulent filet mignons and making my new Sangria recipe. Yes, life is good!

What a feeling!

2010-10-17T23:57:00.000-07:00

Nope, not talking about "Flashdance" (though I could!). I just spent some time with a friend who was taught to dance by my mother, and we had a phenomenal time!

I met up with Eileen at her home in Southern California, and we nearly immediately went for drinks at the Ritz Carlton in Laguna Beach. Wow. When I say the view is magnificent, overcast though it was, I'm not kidding. We had many glasses of expensive wine, picked up by her abfab (or should I say ABS fab) son, Will), watched a wedding (complete with bagpiper), then moved on to dinner with husband Will. The Renaissance Cafe in Dana Point promised music from a Grateful Dead cover band, but they were more like a cover band of sixties stuff. We moved on after a great meal to a karaoke place that Will did not care for. No matter! We went to their home and Will plied us with more wine. No problem!

More about my visit soon, but, suffice it to say, I had the best time of my life. More about Eileen, Will, and the Johnson family next time I check in. Were it not for reality, I'd still be at their home, watching my shows in the screening room and having my morning tea overlooking the beautiful scenery. All together now: WAAAAHHHH!!!!!!

Some pet peeves

2010-08-04T09:48:00.001-07:00

No, this is not about Moochie and Spunky Bastard, though they may turn up at some point! Last night I was pondering some annoyances, and thought I'd see if anyone shared my view -- if you agree or disagree, feel free to leave a comment or two!

1. Trucks/buses traveling in the left lane.
I take the Cross Bronx Expressway (AKA "Highway to Heaven") twice a day, and it works pretty well when there are no accidents or other natural disasters that seem to happen on that road. Because of the "ban" on trucks and buses, the left lane generally moves well and is pretty safe. Then these behemoths decide, well, I'm not moving fast enough, so let's do something illegal and selfish (not unlike lane jumpers, with whom I deal with on a daily basis). There are plenty of signs posted, yet many choose to ignore them, likely because there's no left shoulder for cops who might enforce this regulation. Grrr.

2. Breaking into daytime programming with weather updates, or other things shy of a national emergency.
Really, most of daytime is watched in the home, and a lot of it on tape/DVR well past the time it aired. Do we really need to see Sam Champion pointing at maps and trying to gain ratings points for ABC's "Stormwatch"? In these situations, a crawl would suffice. Trust me, if a predicted thunderstorm is about to hit 30 miles outside the viewing area and Brenda's triumphant return to "GH" is interrupted, ABC's switchboard will light up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree. Count on it!

3. People who just don't get it.
Remember the Clinton years? When Bill left office, the economy was sound, oil was about $30 a barrel, and we had a BUDGET SURPLUS (in the trillions, right?). Eight years later, we were left with massive deficits, horrendous debt to China, a sinking economy, and war on two fronts, costing human lives and "loss of treasure." We pay out the nose for food, gasoline, and other basics, at least those of us who are still employed, and people are likening our current situation to the Great Depression. And we're the world's superpower? President Obama is having mud slung at him from many sides by people who just don't get that eight years cannot be corrected in 18 months. The guy isn't perfect, but he's trying. Give him a freakin' break already.

4. When people spend money, lots of others benefit.
Even Dubya encouraged people to spend money to stimulate the economy. Yet when Chelsea Clinton's wedding cost whatever it did (and remember, estimates were given by people who were not hired to provide services, etc. for the actual event), remember that it was likely in proportion to her parents' income just as anyone else's wedding. The Clintons have made a lot of money from books and speaking engagements, and gave their only daughter a lovely wedding. That's the goal of most parents. Think of the money that poured into the Rhinebeck, NY area, and not only from the Clinton event, but from all the outsiders in town, trying to cover the wedding. Gift bags were sourced locally. Sour grapes taste really rancid.

5. Working for a living.
My friend Tony emphasizes that you should follow your passion. I agree, but unfortunately, I can't support myself that way (unlike T, who is one of the best drummers hitting the skins). Granted, I do have some creativity in my job, but not so much that I'd call it my passion. However, if I were to write about things I loved, who knows how long that love would last? Friends of mine have had jobs that I would have killed for, but were quick to admit that it wasn't as great as it seems. I still buy my twice-weekly MegaMillions tickets and dream. In the mean time, I earn a decent living, have pretty good hours, some benefits, occasional travel and a very lax dress code (I normally wear jeans and a Yankee t-shirt, but never forget to coordinate my socks, fashion maven that I am). Sometimes that's enough.

Danny Burstein as Luther Billis in "South Pacific"

2010-07-29T11:21:00.000-07:00

One of Broadway's best!

Can you stand a little more about 2009?

2010-07-29T10:03:00.000-07:00

It was a very good year indeed. After the summer ended (and I got to see Frankie Valli, Pat Benatar, The Donnas, and Deborah Harry for FREE at Asser Levy Park in Brooklyn!), then began some business travel. I spent a third week based in Hampton Beach, NH for my "New England Press Tour" with sales rep Jerry. Stayed again at the wonderful Oceanside Inn, welcomed by host/owners Deb and Skip (I highly recommend it -- www.oceansideinn.com), and took a side trip (20 minutes away!) to the outlets just over the border in Maine. After calling on clients, Jerry, his lovely wife Kathie, and I were rewarded with lavish dinners in the Hampton Beach area and also in Portsmouth. I'm talking New York-style establishments, not roadside lobster roll stands, though I'm sure they're good. My favorite is The Library in Portsmouth, which is also a cool town in which to shop and bar crawl. As long as you're not driving!

A major highlight of the Fall was, of course, THE YANKEES! What can I say about winning World Series #27 that I didn't already drive people nuts with on Facebook? A marvelous season, highlighted for me earlier when Maggie, Patricia and I went to the Stadium on 9/9/09 (a thank-you from Maggie and Kevin for doing that kick-ass reading) and saw DEREK JETER tie Lou Gehrig's record for most hits by a Yankee. Could anyone's first visit to our new cathedral in the Bronx have been better? Doubtful!

Another business trip with Jerry, this time to the suburbs of Chicago, where we had another successful round of visits (and a few more great dinners!), then it was Thanksgiving time. My aunt/sister (hey, she's only seven years older!) Patricia put on her usual Martha Stewart-type spread, attractive even to non-turkey fans like me. Cousin Matt and I attacked other diners (20 or so) with flying wine corks, so it was fun all around, unless you were in our sights.

On December 12, I went with friends Sharon and Gary to see our pal Danny Burstein in his Tony-nominated portrayal of Luther Billis in the classic musical "South Pacific" at Lincoln Center. Wow. What an amazing production. It was spectacular, and you have until August 14 to catch it at the Vivian Beaumont Theater at Lincoln Center. I recommend that you do. (Danny moves immediately into rehearsals for "Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown," where his co-stars will include Patti LuPone, Brian Stokes Mitchell, Sheri Renee Scott, and other notables -- don't miss it!) Another thing that made that night extra-special was hanging backstage with Danny and having a very informal tour of the stage.

I found out that same day that my "father" (I prefer "sperm donor") had been killed in an accident with his truck that morning, likely due to impairment from alcohol, but it didn't really bother me much. He'd been out of my life (his choice) since I was 15, so his physical departure from this world was a non-event. Now that I'm officially an orphan, maybe I'll head over to London and join forces with The Artful Dodger and his crew, where we "gotta pick a pocket or two." (J/K!)

The year 2009 came to a close with nearly two weeks off from work, a great Christmas Eve with my Italian/Irish family, Christmas with more family, and New Year's Eve with my Ouziel family. What better way to bring a great year to a close?

Testing....testing

2010-07-28T12:21:00.000-07:00

I am now attempting to post photos on this blog. Pictured (I hope!) are me and my wonderful cousin Kevin, tailgating outside the 2009 Punkin' Chunkin' in Lewes, DE. Though it may sound ridiculous, this is a really fun annual event that family and friends have turned into a sort of "Big Chill" weekend. Lots of people in the Delaware house, lots of fun, frolic, food and potables, and then there's the Punkin' Chunkin' competition. Hey, cable's Science Channel thinks it's a big deal -- check it out!

Wow...it's been QUITE a while since I posted here!

2010-07-28T09:35:00.000-07:00

Nearly two years have passed since my last entry on this blog, and that's two years too many. I blame it on a busy fall and holiday season that took place after that last post, then discovering Facebook in January of 2009 -- and my subsequent addiction to same. After about a year of fervently Facebooking, I've slowed down a bit. Nearly a year ago, I got sick of being treated like crap by the "person" that ran the website I had contributed two weekly columns to, gratis, for about four years, so another compatriot also tired of the nonsense joined me in abruptly quitting. It was a glorious exit, and I may detail it here one day. Glorious, I say!

Lately, it occurred to me that I should revisit this blog, as I'm not posting on FB as often, and I do like to express myself. I just need to find out how to block certain pathetic types -- you know who you are, Cowtrina and Slutti (Snooki's trampier cousin)! Perhaps improvements have been made that will let you approve who sees your post. I'll be checking things out!

In the interim, let me try to sum up the past couple of years. With 2009 came a new president and, I hoped, a fresh new Washington, DC. Unfortunately, it hasn't been all we had thought it could be, but President Obama has had much to clean up after the previous eight years, had to battle hard to get anything pushed through Congress, and was also met with more vitriol than any sitting president (other than, perhaps, Nixon) from the opposite side and many members of the Fourth Estate. More ugly racism has reared its disgusting head since this president was elected, and not only from a segment of the "Teabaggers." (I chuckle whenever I think what "Teabagging" means in modern slang, and how hysterically funny it is that these rightwingers chose their name!) Anyway, enough about that. Our current leadership is not perfect, but it is trying, and that has to count for something.

The first half of 2009 was quiet and uneventful, leading up to a busy June and July. After traveling to Boston for a rainy trade show week (and at a time when the visiting Yankees were blown away, 4-0 in a four game series by the Red Sux, to add to the misery), it was time to get ready for the event of the decade: the wedding of my cousin/godchild, Maggie, to the wonderful man of her dreams (and a welcome addition to the family), Kevin. I did stuff I wouldn't normally do (attend bridal shower, etc.) but for the fact it was Maggie and Kevin. They honored me by asking me to do a reading at the wedding, so I practiced my butt off, even going for coaching with Toastmaster Extraordinaire BennyO. After a few sessions, I not only got to know the microphone really well, but learned a lot about presentation. I'm normally pretty good at speaking off the cuff, but this was a Bible verse, and there's no room for improvisation! The rehearsal, rehearsal dinner and wedding, held over the July 4th weekend, were the best I'd ever been a part of. The only thing that sucked was the drive home, on the Sunday of a holiday weekend. It took twice the time to get to the wedding (4+ hours), which had me and cousin Carol in stop-and-go traffic for ten hours. Yes, ten. Only for you, Maggie and Kevin!

I spent the rest of the summer entertaining semi-lavishly and going to a few concerts, but this post is long enough. More soon (maybe even tomorrow) -- I've missed being here!

Maya Rudolph Returns!

2008-10-27T12:36:00.001-07:00

I'm actually going to be sad when this election is over and we won't get great clips like the ones I've been posting!

Will Ferrell Returns!

2008-10-27T12:29:00.001-07:00

Palin and Poehler on Update

2008-10-22T07:41:00.001-07:00

I saw this as I was rubbing the Hurricanes out of my eyes and thought Palin was actually a good sport about this. Watch the moose at the end!

Palin vs. Fey vs. Baldwin

2008-10-22T07:35:00.001-07:00

I'd just come back from a couple of hours on Bourbon Street to find THIS on the tv!

A New Drinking Game

2008-10-08T10:54:00.000-07:00

When Tina Fey satirized Sarah Palin's debate with Joe Biden, she mentioned that "for all you Joe Six-Packs out there playing a drinking game, here's another for you: MAVERICK!" After watching last night's Obama/McCain debate, I have a new one. Next week, during the final debate, you must take a drink every time the old dude says "my friends." I can almost guarantee you'll be toasted and happy within 45 minutes!

Anne Hathaway as Mary P

2008-10-08T10:52:00.001-07:00

I was pleasantly surprised by Hathaway's range when she recently hosted SNl. Good show, old gal!

Tina for President!

2008-10-08T10:40:00.001-07:00

Could she possibly get any better?

Tina Does It Again!

2008-09-29T10:51:00.001-07:00

Ah, the infamous Katie Couric interview, as interpreted by Tina Fey and Amy Poehler! Enjoy!

French philosopher advises Barack

2008-09-25T08:33:00.000-07:00

In the Sept. 22 issue of New York magazine, they asked French philosopher Bernard-Henri Levy what he thinks Obama should do (Obama is popular in France, especially after his recent trip there). What follows is his reply, which is spot-on:

"I would begin by reminding him of the first thing he said to me at our meeting four years ago in Boston, 'America is a country of meteors; next month somebody else will be the story.' For now the story is Sarah Palin, so I would have him target this singlular idea this woman has about truth, about family, to ask the voters if they are ready to give the keys to the White House to a woman who said when she was running for governor of Alaska, to discuss in the schools -- as if they were remotely the same thing -- both the science of Darwinism and the fraud that is creationism.

"I would beg him to speak directly, solemnly, to the women of this country, asking them if they are prepared to see themselves in this caricature of a free woman who plans to deny her peers one of their most cherished and hard-won rights, the right to an abortion. I would underline the cynicism, the absence of feeling one must have to exhibit in front of the world's television cameras that which a mother should hold most dear, most private, and painfully precious: a child with Down syndrome. I would advise him to assign this task to Hillary.

"He is the only man -- the representative of a visible minority but who also represents the great citizen's ideal inherited from the Philadephia convention -- who can pull America away from the ghettoization of communities. And Palin's slogan is less 'Country first' than 'Alaska for the Alaskans.'"

Have I mentioned lately how much I love the French?

Tina Fey ROCKS!

2008-09-16T11:41:00.001-07:00

As does Amy Poehler...watch and die laughing!

See You in September...See You When The Summer's Through

2008-09-10T11:41:00.000-07:00

I never much liked that song, as it represented -- when I first heard it -- the end of summer and the start of another school year. Nowadays it represents the end of abbreviated work weeks, light traffic, and lighthearted days and nights, so I like it even less! This was a particularly nice summer, so I'm bummed to see it end, but determined to keep the fun going not just all summer long but all YEAR long! Not a bad goal!

Let's see...my last entry was July 1. The next day, my grandmother had a fainting spell and landed in Glen Cove Hospital. I spent the next couple of days with P, going to the hospital, going to follow up visits with the geriatric specialist, and so forth. Now in addition to the signs around the house reminding my grandmother to eat, there are hints that drinking water and remaining hydrated are good things. I went to BJ's and schlepped a new A/C unit to my grandmother's and hoisted it into the window of the kitchen to keep cool air circulating.My grandmother's latest Stupid Stubborn Person Trick? Not using her glaucoma drops for, oh, five or ten years or so, and being told by her eye doctor, "I'm going to be blunt. You're legally blind." Well, that scared her into using the new drops he gave her, and he actually saw improvement within a week, so I can stop looking up the seeing-eye-dog trainers, thank goodness.

Other than those events, the summer was a good one. I did not see either Rick Springfield or Pat Benatar in concert, but I did see Xanadu on Broadway twice in August, on consecutive Sundays. Why? In a word: Whoopi. Yes, while on hiatus from "The View," workaholic Goldberg stepped into the part of "Calliope" for a month. The show is fantastic without her, but sublime with her added little asides. I may see it again (that would be #5), as I'd like to now see it from the seats on stage. Yeah, that's the ticket, blame it on perspective! Seriously, it is the most fun you'll ever have on Broadway, so if you have the opportunity, see it. The original cast is signed to stay on through January 25, 2009. Everyone is fantastic, but Cheyenne Jackson, Kerry Butler and Mary Testa are particular standouts.

July also marked my second East Coast Press Tour up in New Hampshire, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I stayed an extra day and was glad I did. It turns out that Maine was but a 20 minute drive from where I was staying, so during a free afternoon, I took a ride and hit the outlets. I also spent a lot of time with Jerry and Kathie, hitting great restaurants every night save one. The All-Star Game was taking place while I was there, so Jerry and Kathie hosted dinner at their house, reasoning it was the only time we could watch a baseball game and root for the same side (they are Red Sox fans and I'm a Yankee). We barbecued and had a blast. The B&B I stayed in was as lovely as it had been the past summer, and I was sad to leave my New England friends.

At the end of the month, I interviewed John Bolger, an actor well known to soap fans. He also has extensive stage experience and shared some very funny stories with me, including a few about working with the great Harvey Fierstein in his "Safe Sex" trilogy. Bolger had me roaring, and the interview turned out to be one of the best I've done. I later spent time with my friend Nina, which is something I don't do often enough, and even bonded a bit with her teenage son (yes, I truly did!). Resolved to spend more time with friends like Nina.

August 4th was spent with friend Dianna, back to Broadway to see "Young Frankenstein," which was a hoot. It turned out to be Megan (Elizabeth, Dr. Frankenstein's uptight but sexy fiance) Mullally's last performance, so that was a bit of luck on our part. It was a lot of fun, especially if you know the movie as well as I do. Dinner was at my favorite French restaurant, Pigalle, then home to prepare for my long flight...

The next trip was my West Coast Press Tour, based out of Long Beach, CA, with my cohort Don. We had fun, too, and the weather was as perfect as you expect in Southern California. Long Beach is a strange city, mostly run-down except for a two mile stretch near the beach, which boasts a huge convention center, aquarium, the Queen Mary floating museum, a huge port, view of Catalina Island, and some lovely hotels and restaurants. The drawback is that if you head four blocks east of the waterfront, you're entering the danger zone. We didn't have any business in that particular town, but it has one of my favorite steakhouses, the 555, so we had dinner there twice. The rest of the trip was successful as well, and I had the opportunity to see Ray, the man who almost became my stepfather on more than one occasion. Don and I took him to dinner, and they hit it off, as I knew they would. It was a lovely visit.

Heading back to reality with a canceled red-eye (thanks, Jet Blue), my delayed return home was spent sleeping for about 16 hours with two very happy and contented cats. That was exactly what all three of us needed! I was happy to put the monster suitcase away for the next several months, as the only travel remaining this year will not require such a huge bag.

August was finished up with dinners with good friends, a trip to see "The Dark Knight" in IMAX, which was thrilling (both the movie and the late Heath "Joker" Ledger deserve Academy Awards), and the previously mentioned trips to Xanadu. One final long weekend -- Labor Day -- and it's time to start planning for a fun Fall!

So far, we've got a girls' weekend in NOLA with pal Kelly in mid-October, then a business trip to Indianapolis and Chicago in November. My last trip of the year will be to a favorite client in North Carolina, probably in early December. In between, I'll go see Danny in South Pacific at Lincoln Center and Tina Turner at Nassau Coliseum. I also think another IMAX viewing of "The Dark Knight" must be scheduled, and soon, before it leaves. It's simply the best of its genre.

I also resolve to try and let only weeks, not months, pass between blog entries! Oh, and remember that speeding ticket I got back in March? I fought it in court and won! Yes, this HAS been a stellar summer!

Yes, I'm Still Here! Busy Making Plans and Having Fun!

2008-07-08T09:11:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the long absence, but it's been a busy, productive life of late. My last entry was posted at the end of March. Since then, I've been enjoying the best of Broadway, going to/getting tickets for concerts and more Broadway, and doing a bit of travel. Fun in the Sun 2008 has begun!

In April, I had the pleasure of seeing the great Patti LuPone (or as we Long Islanders call her, "Northport's Own Patti LuPone") in the classic Broadway musical Gypsy, where she brought the house down as Mama Rose. What a spectacular performer she is. The rest of the cast was terrific (more on that later), and the production was directed by the legendary Arthur Laurents.

Next on the schedule was Joy Behar, who you may know from "The View," and who started in showbiz as a standup comic. She's still incredibly funny. It's a shame you only get snippets of her wit on "The View" (bring back Joy's Comedy Corner!), because her standup is terrific. She gets down and dirty sometimes, but all in good humor. Unfortunately, she was only the opening act -- the headliner was "Mr. Warmth," Don Rickles, and the roles really should have been reversed. Behar has a lot of respect for those who came before her, so I'm sure she would never publicly agree with that statement, but it's really time for Rickles to retire before his act gets really embarrassing. I used to enjoy him on variety shows when I was a kid, but that was a looooong time ago.

"Boeing Boeing" is a revival of a sex comedy from the 60s that started last year in London and is now on Broadway. The cast is amazing: Christine Baranski, Bradley Whitford, Gina Gershon, Mary McDonnell and Mark Rylance, who came over from the London production. Do I smell Tony awards? You bet I do!

Whoopi Goldberg hosted the Tonys on June 15, and a lot of the people I rooted for took home statues. South Pacific, which I'm seeing this fall, was awarded several Tonys, including best revival of a musical, but Gypsy took the Tonys for Best Actress in a Musical, for the incomparable LuPone, Best Supporting Actress, Laura Benanti (married to "Rescue Me" star Steven "Sean" Pasquale!), and Best Supporting Actor, Boyd Gaines, who gave a classy shoutout to my pal Danny Burstein, also nominated for that award for his role as Luther Billis in South Pacific. Danny had said he'd be happy to lose to his pal Boyd, so it was a bittersweet moment. Boeing Boeing also picked up Best Revival of a Play and Best Actor for Mark Rylance, who beat out Patrick Stewart in "the Scottish play that shall not be named." (An old Broadway superstition; look it up in your Funk and Wagnalls!) I was sorry that Xanadu lost out to In The Heights, but, on the whole, most of the people I saw this season were rewarded, so I feel ahead of the game.

Coming up on the Broadway/concert schedule: Rick Springfield (possibly), Young Frankenstein (orchestra seats!), Pat Benatar, South Pacific (house seats), and...Tina Turner! Yes, I'm going a little overboard, but since the dollar and the price of gas and everything else is so skewed, I cancelled my plans to go to Europe this summer and decided to see lots of shows instead.

In spite of my personal vacation plans being altered, there has been plenty of business travel on the docket. I spent a steamy week in Atlanta last month, wondering how on earth people live in that climate, but discovered several excellent restaurants and saw a few good friends. I leave next week for New Hampshire, where I will dwell in a lovely B&B on the beach (yes, New Hampshire has 16 miles of Atlantic Ocean coastline) and visit clients in between fireworks on the beach, fantastic dinners, and maybe even a visit to dreaded Fenway Park, where I may plant some Derek Jeter tokens. All in good fun, of course! Early August will find me traveling from the San Francisco Bay area down the coast to Los Angeles, with a stop in Santa Barbara for what has been promised to be a fabulous dinner. Oh, and seeing clients.

The rest of the summer will be spent grilling and chilling with friends, which is one of the best things about summer (other than air conditioning and reasonable electric rates, both of which I have!). A few gatherings are already planned, and I'll be sorry to see the summer end (but not the heat).

The other nice thing about the end of summer is that it means my friend Tony will return from his two-month gig, drumming in Monte Carlo (one of my favorite places in the world). We played together in jazz band in high school, and he was always a phenom. Me, not so much. After many years, we've reconnected, which has been great, but I miss him like crazy. Two months and counting!

So, forgive me for not blogging, but these have been busy times! More later...

Short Takes

2008-03-25T13:12:00.000-07:00

Highway cops SUCK. Big time. Imagine, claiming I was going 71 in a 50 mph zone? I don't THINK so. I've gone online to arrange to plead not guilty (and the beauty of doing it online, if there is such a thing like beauty when dealing with this crap, is that you can choose where you go to plead your case -- otherwise, they will happily send you to the lousiest place possible), and get this: the ticket, written a week previously, had not been logged in. (But they're fierce about you responding within two weeks. Go figure.) Will this mean the ticket's disappeared? Well, I've covered my back, as I have a confirmation number that I responded to the as-yet-non-existent ticket. Perhaps this will help my case.

Crappy drivers SUCK. The very next day after my ticket, I was parked on 149th Street, outside my chiropractor's office, and someone clipped my side view mirror. I went running into the office, telling doc I needed another adjustment, pronto, and he came out and showed me how to manipulate the mirror into place. Fortunately, it wasn't knocked off and there's only some cosmetic damage on the casing, but the way they make cars these days, I will literally have to buy a whole side mirror unit and have it replaced for some godawful sum of money.

Was this really the best week to see my accountant? Actually, things went okay there, so I think I'm in a turnaround. The week ended much better than it started. I grilled some lovely filet mignons for me and my friend Dianna, got my butt kicked at Yahtzee, spent some relaxing time with books, cats and DVDs on Saturday, then had a wonderful Easter Sunday dinner with my family from another father and mother.

Things are definitely looking up.

In A Word, Hubris

2008-03-12T10:07:00.000-07:00

Just call him Eliot Mess. The one-time "Sheriff of Wall Street" has been caught, almost literally, with his pants down, carousing with expensive prostitutes. As NY Rep. Pete King put it, normally one does not revel in someone else's personal problems, but when it comes to this holier-than-thou, unforgiving guy, that's a whole 'nother story. Yep, Spitzer, the governor of the state of New York has been hanging with working girls, who may work hard for the money, but are extremely well-paid.

Here's the kicker: Spitz comes from a very wealthy family, yet apparently does not know how to move said money from bank accounts in an undetectable way. What he did is called "structuring," and it happened enough so that his bank called in the IRS, fearing he was being blackmailed, or worse. What a dumbass. Had he casually withdrawn a couple thousand every few days from an ATM (as he paid in cash, not wanting to leave a money trail!), he might not have been caught. So, not only has he probably broken financial laws, his last recorded tryst (on the night before Valentine's Day, the rotter!) involved the prostitute du jour ("Kristen") being paid by the Love Guv to travel from NYC to meet him at the Mayflower Hotel in Washington, DC. For those of you who are not up on the laws about hookers (or fans of Chuck Berry), that's a violation of something called the Mann Act, which prohibits interstate travel for the purpose of illicit sex. Berry was busted for that very thing about 50 years ago, and did time. Let's hope that Eliot Mess doesn't skate away on that charge just because he's wealthy and white. Let's also hope his reported penchant for "unsafe sex" (his dislike of condoms) didn't bring any additional horrors home to wife Silda, who appears to be an intelligent (law degree from Harvard) and beautiful woman, perhaps with not-so-great taste in men. By all reports, the Love Guv will resign today and New York will have its first black governor, David Paterson, who makes news on another front: he will be the first-ever legally blind governor of the United States. He's served New York in a variety of roles for more than 20 years, as has his father, and he may be just what the doctor ordered after our 14 months of the Love Guv, or -- a nickname he gave himself and likely prefers -- the "Fucking Steamroller." Maybe James Taylor will write a new version of "Steamroller Blues" for Eliot Mess. I hope there are many verses about trading in the Fifth Avenue apartment for a cell in Sing Sing.

While on the subject of hubris, we certainly can't leave out Senator Barack Obama. Let's face it, Geraldine Ferraro called it: if he were a white guy, he would not be in the position he currently enjoys. I've been saying for months that Oprah would not have endorsed and supported the presidential candidacy of a white man with the same resume. Yes, Obama gives good speeches. Yes, he was against the war in Iraq (but not yet a senator, so he had no vote). Senator Clinton wasn't exactly for the war, but voted to go in -- as did many others -- based on faulty information provided by the government. She was not the only one hoodwinked by the Bush administration (just ask Colin Powell) -- we all were.

Obama can talk about his fabulous judgment until the cows come home, but that will never get me to believe that that will prove better than experience when it comes to running the country. As for being insulted for the Clinton statement that he would be a great vice president on her ticket, he asked how she could think he'd be a good vice president if she didn't think he had the experience to be president. Um, hello? Here's your chance to learn the job! The chief executive of this country cannot learn as he goes, which would be the case if he happens to be elected president. I'll be happy to vote for him in 2016, after he's had the necessary experience that will enable him to run the country, but not before. Frankly, a Clinton/Obama ticket would be good for this country and good for him, and one that I would fully support. Don't make me vote for McCain. Please. THINK, people!

Wassup?

2008-02-26T11:37:00.000-08:00

Okay, it's been more than a month since my last sad entry, and that is just wrong. So far, 2008 has been a decent year, as predicted. Highlights thus far include a great Broadway show (Curtains, the last show written by Kander and Ebb, and very cleverly done), a fun trip to Vermont, then a magnificent three-day weekend due to a blessed snow storm early last Friday morning. A new flatscreen on which to watch the latest DVDs of "Entourage," a gorgeous leather Barcalounger, a lap filled with two purring cats and a stocked refrigerator (thanks, Trader Joe's!) and wine rack (thanks, Total Wine!). It doesn't get much better than that.

Vermont was great. Dianna and I made the 4-1/2 hour drive up without bloodshed, wisely choosing to alternate playing each other's iPods for a set amount of time, and we only had a couple of traffic snarls. We would have gotten there sooner, had it not been for a fresh and fast snowfall that hit Rutland just before we arrived, which made the last eight miles slightly treacherous. Dianna drove like a champ, though, helped by Jetta's Triptronic transmission (I have it in my Eclipse, and it works like a charm). We arrived at brother Don's, unloaded the car, and settled in for two days of fun and frolic.

Don and his girlfriend Patty are the ultimate hosts. Anything you wanted was right there, and if it wasn't, it soon appeared. Don cooked for us (the most amazing chicken cutlet parmigiana -- I'm still drooling!) and we had stocked enough wine and beer to keep a small army happy. One of the nicest thing was that the three smokers took pity on the odd person out (that would be me) and were very considerate, moving into another room, setting up air purifiers, handing me a bottle of Febreze, and so forth. I felt as if I'd known them forever. It's just a shame they live so far away. I even did laundry before leaving, which a lot of you know is one of my favorite things to do -- come back from a trip with clean clothes!

At one point during the weekend, my cell phone rang. It was my cousin, M, calling me from Hawaii to tell me that K had popped the question that morning as the sun rose. I was thrilled. I told her to tell him that I'm thrilled to finally be able to call him my cousin for real. The wedding will be in about a year and a half, so that gives me time to start forcing myself to the gym more than once a week. I'm hoping to have them over for champagne and nibbly things very soon.

Speaking of champagne and nibbly things, Sharon and I are throwing together a small get-together Friday night SUPPOSEDLY to mark Feb. 29, but we're actually going to try to sneak in a mini-celebration of Susan's birthday, which was yesterday. I ordered her a copy of "La Vie En Rose," but it won't get here for a couple of weeks, which is actually good, as I won't be handing her any presents to hit me with on Friday. I went to Trader Joe's and got all sorts of great dips/hummus, along with everyone's favorite Key Lime Pie, and Sharon's covering the rest. A nice way to end a work week!

Three other fun things in the not-so-distant future: Patti LuPone in Gypsy on Broadway (working on tickets), Joy Behar and Don Rickles at Westbury May 31 (tickets gotten), and friend Danny in South Pacific at Lincoln Center's Vivian Beaumont Theater some time in between. I may go to previews or wait a little bit; it's sure to run for a while. I was also just informed that The Police and Elvis Costello are touring together this summer, appearing locally at Jones Beach (rather a small venue, so I hope to be able to score tickets) in early August. I was going to try to pop over to Europe to visit some friends in July, but our dates aren't meshing, so that may have to be put on hold until later in the year.

Right now, I'd be content with a couple more snow days. Time spent cuddling with the kitties, a gorgeous new entertainment system, and some fine red wine is golden. The only thing that could make it better? A fireplace and a nice guy to share in the cuddling. I'm thinking Matt Damon (if you haven't seen Sarah Silverman's hysterical video gift for BF Jimmy Kimmel, "I'm F*cking Matt Damon" -- costarring Matt Damon -- get over to You Tube PRONTO!). He's married, but, heck, if I can get him in the cuddle circle, I'm obviously a miracle worker, so I'm covered. (In lieu of MD, most of the guys on Entourage are single, so that would work.) As Billy Joel says, "Sometimes a fantasy is all you need."

A Sad End to 2007

2008-01-18T09:45:00.000-08:00

For the most part, 2007 was a very good year, but unfortunately, all good things do tend to have an ending. Mine came on December 20, when my beloved Scraps took that trip to the Rainbow Bridge. Following is the email I sent to friends the next day:

"I just thought I'd let you guys know that I had to put my boy to sleep yesterday. Our vet had found (via ultrasound) a strange, unidentifiable mass in his chest, surrounding his heart and lungs, at the beginning of October. He said that any attempt to do surgery would be worse than all of Scraps' previous surgeries combined (and he had had a couple of major ones -- particularly when he was "scalped" due to a melanoma. So, all that could be done was to take him home and love him until it was time to do the right thing for him.

He started going downhill the last couple of weeks, and this Wednesday, he started refusing food. Nothing I could do would make the poor guy eat. I noticed his breathing was more labored, especially while in the litter box. Thursday morning, when he refused the "smorgasbord" I put out for him, I knew.

My friend Sharon and I took him to Dr. Luger that afternoon, and he went to sleep peacefully and with dignity, as I kissed him and told him repeatedly how much he was loved. And he was! Vet techs came by to offer condolences (one even called me at home today to say how sorry she was that she was not in the hospital that day and didn't get to see him or me!). And, of course, all of our friends.

I'm laying low today to try and get myself right with this before the holiday social whirl begins, so don't worry about me. I'm spending time with Moochie and Spunky, who haven't quite grasped what happened. It will probably take them a week, Sharon says, and I think she's right.

Scraps gave me nearly five years of totally unconditional love, and really, what more can you ask for? Putting him to sleep before he became uncomfortable is the last act of unconditional love that you can do for your pet, and I am grateful that I could summon up the courage, as well as the help of dear friends, to do this final act of kindness.

I'm determined to make this a happy holiday season regardless, so after this weekend, I will once again don my Grinch shirt and prepare to make merry.

Love,
Karen"

I spent most of the remainder of the year (all 11 days of it!) in bed, felled by whatever was going around the air, coupled with extreme sadness. There were a few days that I managed to get out and do something. I went to Christmas Eve at Patty and John's and had a lovely time, as always. On Christmas, I dragged myself out to Judy's and then to my grandmother's. I had been dreading that more than usual, as I was uncertain how the day would be with cousin Christine's added houseguests, her Aussie brother, his wife, their toddler and baby. As it turned out, they were delightful, so my dread was totally unnecessary (as it usually is). We had a nice time.

I spent the next day in bed, then pulled myself together for what has become a tradition for me and my friend Kirsten, post-Christmas: we visit her father and my mother at the cemetery, then have lunch. It's not as grim as it sounds! This year, her mom joined us for lunch, which was great, as she's always been a cool lady and fun to hang out with. We swore to add a summertime margaritafest at Kirsten's home in Connecticut to our annual get-togethers, and I'm already planning the nachos! I hope her hubby Greg will be okay with the fact that we're going to get swacked on Kirsten's excellent margaritas, and that he'll protect the kids from us. I'm sure he will.

Back to bed for the next few days, though I did make it out to see "National Treasure: Book of Secrets" with Sharon, Gary and Mike, which was well worth the effort on all counts. I tried to wriggle out of going to Dianna's for New Year's Eve, but she told me I was being ridiculous, passing up the opportunity to hang with people who love me, and that I wasn't doing myself or Scraps any good by doing so, She was right. I threw myself in the shower, went and ran some errands (including getting the oil changed in my car!), and motored on up to spend the night with Dianna, Jarrod and Carmen. We had a lot of fun, and it was precisely the medicine I needed. (Note to self: call Dianna whenever I need to be talked out of something stupid -- she gives me the straight poop, always.)

A New Year's Day gathering at Sharon and Gary's followed, but I only lasted a couple of hours, due to lack of sleep the night before and the reappearance of the mystery bug that had been plaguing me on and off (mostly on). Oh, and the return to the office the next day looming ahead. Bleah.

So, yes, 2007 did not end on a very up note. Things have been decidedly improved since, though. Susan turned me on to "Entourage," and I am hooked. I love my boys from Queens. They even reference the best pizza in the world, Eddie's (in New Hyde Park)! When Susan has finished her move (moving is hell, even when it's only a few blocks away), we will be going to Eddie's, as she's never been (TRAVESTY!), to celebrate the guys of "Entourage," including evil agent Ari Gold, played to perfection by Jeremy Piven. Plus, I just got the second part of Season Three, so I will undoubtedly be watching all eight episodes tonight. And loving it!

Dianna and I went to see "Xanadu" on Broadway last Sunday and had a great time. I loved it when I saw it back in November, and was pretty sure she'd like it. She'd seen star Cheyenne Jackson when he played Elvis in "All Shook Up" a few seasons ago, so the fact that he was in "Xanadu" was a major attraction. I'd even see it again -- it's that much fun!

The only other thing planned for January is going to "Curtains" on Broadway with Judy, then meeting Lynn afterwards for fondue. Yum. Next month, Judy and I plan to see "Dancing With The Stars: The Tour" at Nassau Coliseum, and I'm going to spend President's Day weekend visiting Dianna's brother in Vermont. I'm making every effort to ensure that 2008 is a very good year. Although I still have daily crying jags, missing Scraps, which will likely continue for a while, I know I can count on my loved ones (including Moochie and Spunky Bastard), which is richness beyond measure.

Love Me Some Osmonds

2007-11-13T12:53:00.000-08:00

Yes, I admit it. I was a major Osmond fan back in the day (early 70s), and remain so to this day. They represent a more innocent time, in my life and certainly in this country. I am thrilled that I grew up with them, rather than what preteens are exposed to these days. No contest.

I've also been thrilled that Marie Osmond was one of the competitors on this season's "Dancing With The Stars," a show I love. To make it even better, she's done very well, and still remains in the final five out of the original 12 or 13. That could change tonight, but my fingers are crossed. A week ago today, family patriarch, George Osmond, passed away at the age of 90, the day after Marie and her professional dance partner, Jonathan, performed a 40s-style dance tribute to her parents (she even wore her mother's hairstyle!). Somehow, and I don't know how they got through it, the entire family flew to Chicago on Thursday to tape a segment of Oprah that had been in the works for months. Marie's parents had nine children, who had 55 children, who had 48 grandchildren. All of them were there except for the parents of this incredible family. (The funeral was held on Friday, and the emotions and logistics of it all just amaze me...then again, they are an amazing family.)

It was magical. I had found out about it that morning, and alerted Benny, who recorded it onto DVD. The show started with Donny and Marie trading songs, as they'd done on their late 70s variety show. They then had separate segments with Oprah. Then the Osmond Brothers sang, Marie and Jonathan danced, and all of the 100+ Osmonds closed the show with "May Tomorrow Be A Perfect Day," in tribute to George Osmond. (Throughout the program, old film clips of the performing Osmonds were shown, which really took me back.) In fact, when asked how they could have managed not to cancel the appearance on Oprah, the family's collective response was that it was what their father/grandfather/greatgrandfather would have wanted.

I'm not going to go into more detail about the show except to say it moved me to tears on more than one occasion. It brought back lots of wonderful memories. The performing Osmonds will be embarking on a 50th anniversary tour of England next year, and I called Benny to tell him that if they come to New York, we're going. No question. There came a time in my youth when it was embarassing to admit you were an Osmond fan, but I no longer care. They're up there with The Police, The Who, Elvis Costello, and everyone else I love. There's no shame in appreciating great performers...and good people.

Tonight we'll find out if Marie survived the dance competition this week. I'm pulling for her, of course, and even signed in online to give her some extra votes last night. This woman has eight kids, just pulled off a major appearance on Oprah, buried her father, and learned two new dances, all in one week. Did I mention she's 48 years old? Oh, and that she CAN dance? I don't think she'll make it to the finals, but this lady has my vote. All of them, in fact. And so does her entire family,

I feel very blessed to have the Osmond family still performing and making people happy. May they continue to be blessed.

Busy Times, Mostly Good

2007-11-13T12:33:00.000-08:00

November is turning out to be a great month. Coming on the heels of a lousy October, what with Scraps being diagnosed as less than healthy, I needed some good times, and by gum, I got them! First, and most important, Scraps has been his normal lovely self, scrapping, playing nuzzling, eating, cuddling, purring and loving. He sometimes breathes a bit more heavily than I'd like, but it subsides quickly and has not been enough to subject him to another vet visit. All seems well, and we're spending lots of quality time. I've taken to watching television in the media room, which they love, as it has a gorgeous leather recliner that they fight over. It's nice to relax in that chair with two cats in my lap, another across the top, and a glass of home brewed iced tea or good red wine at my side, depending on the occasion. A little slice of heaven, really.

To complement this slice of heaven, I've been treating myself to some special things. November 2 found me and pal Diana M. at Madison Square Garden, rocking out to The Police, one of our favorite bands ever. We met for dinner right outside the Garden at Cafe 31, which turned out to be wonderful and not overly priced. What was even cooler was that my friend Benny insisted on driving me in, picking up Diana at work, then bringing us right to the restaurant. We had a lovely meal -- we hadn't seen each other in a couple of years -- then went across the street to the concert. I was so jazzed that not only did I buy a t-shirt but a tour jacket as well. What the hell. How often do you get to see The Police?

Opening band Fiction Plane, led by Sting's son Joe Sumner (on bass and vocals), was much better than either Di or I expected. At times Joe sounded either like his father or Bono, which is not bad at all. Then slightly before 9, the main event took the stage.

Wow. Sting was in incredible voice (there must be something to all that yoga he does; he also looked incredible) and the band was as tight as ever. All three are exceptional musicians, and when joined together, every little thing they do is magic. (Sorry, I couldn't resist!) At times it seemed like all 18,000 happy concert-goers were singing along. And it was just the three of them, no supplemental musicians or background vocalists. They rocked, and I was sated and happy when it was over (though you never really want it to end). To make things even nicer, I was able to just walk downstairs to the LIRR, buy a $5 ticket, and hop on the 11:19 to Bayside. I arrived at that station at 11:49, grabbed a taxi, and was home by midnight. Faster and cheaper than any other mode of transport, save someone else sending me in a limo. That will be my preferred way to go to events at MSG.

I slept late and then my Dianna with two "n"s buddy came by and we partied until dawn, alternating between Yahtzee and Crazy 8s while consuming much good wine. Fortunately, the next day was Daylight Savings, so we gained an hour, always nice. I spent much of Sunday snoozing with the kitties.

Other than that, I have tickets to see "Xanadu" on Broadway this Sunday (fortunately one of the eight Broadway shows NOT affected by the stagehands' strike) with some dear friends, then dinner at Virgil's BBQ afterwards. The next week is Thanksgiving, which I like because it means a good long weekend. Dinner at Patricia's, always a cornucopia of delights. Then tickets to "The Brian Setzer Christmas Extravaganza" at Westbury Music Fair on Saturday.

Life is good.

Update on The Scrapinator's health

2007-10-09T12:09:00.000-07:00

I never seem to run out of excuses as to why my blogging has been sporadic, but this time I can blame it on one of my cats, who has had health issues again.

Last week Scraps was supposed to have surgery to remove some suspicious tissue in his rear torso. A small lump removed two weeks previously came back as a basal cell carcinoma, with mostly clean edges, so it was decided that more tissue would be excised just to be sure. He was put under anaesthesia, and it was noticed that his breathing was a bit rapid, so much so that they were reluctant to open him up. They took X-rays, and Dr. Luger showed them to me that afternoon. There appeared to be an unidentified mass in his chest, near the heart and lungs, which would probably explain the strange breathing. An ultrasound was scheduled for two days later, as that would provide a better picture, literally, and we could decide what to do next.

Well, I brought my friend Sharon, who is a top-notch ultrasound person, with me to pick up Scraps. Everyone at the cat hospital had been shocked by the results of the ultrasound, because it did show something in his chest that definitely did not belong there. I'm still a bit fuzzy as to what it was, but after hearing that they'd have to do an ultrasound biopsy (which can be dicey) and then surgery, my mind was pretty much made up -- especially when Dr. Luger told me to consider all the previous surgeries Scraps has had, rolled into one, and that this surgery would be harder/worse than all of them combined.

Scraps has been behaving like his normal, loving, happy self and I see no reason to destroy that. As long as he continues the way he is, all will be fine. Sharon had the presence of mind to ask what we should watch for, and Dr. Luger said his breathing -- if he starts breathing rapidly or panting, anything unusual, bring him in. I told him that I would also watch for the warning behaviorial signs and that I would not see him suffer under any conditions. Much as I adore him, I will not have him in pain just so I can hang on to him a little longer.

So, for now, my travel schedule has been pared back. I may do an occasional overnight, but my four day Punkin' Chunkin' trip has been cancelled. I'm supposed to go to Paris for five days in April, but that gives me several months to be sure that he's stable...or not. It could be months or he could surprise and delight us all by hanging out another few years. He's only 4-1/2 years old, and he's a scrappy dude (well named!), so I am just going to spoil him a little more than usual and make sure he stays happy and healthy.

Scraps still licks my face every morning until I get up and feed the beasts, and he is pleased beyond belief when I sneak him extra cat treats. Same as he ever was. Let's all hope this lasts a long, long time! I was a wreck last week, after having two stressful days at the vet's on Monday and Wednesday, so I took Friday off and had a lazy couple of days, just cuddling with the kitties. The only time I left the house Friday and Saturday was when I grilled dinner in the back yard. Otherwise, it was quality time, either snuggled up in bed or on the couch, making good use of the video projector and big screen. I treated us all like royalty! Ventured out on Sunday to take my grandmother out for brunch, then went to CostCo with Judy. The felines are now enjoying bits of their favorite rotisserie chicken when I assemble my dinner. If there is any justice in this world, I will one day return to it as a pampered, much loved housecat!

Thanks to all of you who have been pulling for him!

Summer Fun, Over and Done

2007-09-12T11:25:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it's been nearly two months since my last blog entry. In my defense, August was a busy month, and September's pace is also crazy. However, I never reported on my Girls' Weekend in NOLA, or on some other fun summer happenings, so here we go!

Like France in August, when it seems that 90 percent of the population is on vacation (and many restaurants closed), NOLA is normally best avoided in July and August, due to extreme heat and humidity. However, when you plan a long weekend with friends, everyone has to compromise for each other's personal schedules. And so it was that Kelly, Dianna and I left for New Orleans in mid-July. Heck, we'd been through worse weather and made it back. We just figured we'd pop into a handy drinking establishment when the weather proved overwhelming. After all, there's one every five yards or so.

As it turned out, I'd had hotter, more humid days in New York this summer, so it wasn't so bad. And the city wasn't as quiet as expected. The EssenceFest had happened the previous weekend, but there was a special epicurean mini-convention going on, so we were not the only tourists. We checked into our Penthouse suite right in the French Quarter (a place I'd been to before on business travel) and could not believe our eyes. It was a two bedroom, three bathroom (with Jacuzzi tubs!) duplex with a gorgeous living room, dining room and full kitchen, including a washer/dryer! (Yes, we returned home with clean clothes, always a bonus!) We found the cutest little A&P on Royal and stocked up, happy as could be.

Friday was exploration day. We wandered out of the Quarter and down to a very upscale mall near the Mississippi River, which was a great way to cool off and do a bit of shopping. The girls dragged me into the shoe department at Sak's, and I dragged them right out, noting that the Jimmy Choos and Manolo Blahniks they were drooling over averaged $800 a pair. A two block walk to Harrah's and Kelly was in her element. I left the two of them at their favored slot machines and made my way to the Video Poker machines, the only thing I really have any luck with, due to my Yahtzee addiction. After losing $20, I found the girls again and out we went to the Quarter. Dianna was craving sweet potato fries and damn it if she didn't find the one place that had them on the menu! We poked around Jackson Square, had fun talking to a white male Voodoo priest (he swears he's the only one who fits that criteria) who runs the Voodoo Museum, and then made our way over to Bourbon Street, where we would be partying later that night. It was only mid-afternoon, but there were frat boys a-plenty, spilling out from the bars. We popped into Marie Laveau's House of Voodoo and a few other shops, then went back to our lovely suite for some R&R.

The Court of Two Sisters is one of the older restaurants in the city, and always a reliable place to dine. We had dinner there, made friends with another group of Girls' Weekenders who were well on their way to being plastered, and planned to meet up with them later. Out to Bourbon Street we went. We visited many fine and not-so-fine drinking establishments (I'm not even going to tell you the names of some of the drinks/shots we did, except for my favorite, called "Gator Piss," said to be a version of the Hand Grenade). Eventually we made it back to the suite. This was my first time on Bourbon Street that did not include a parade or beads, so that was sad, but the street was jumping and the atmosphere was hopping. We were just six weeks shy of the two year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, so it was nice to see a good amount of activity in the Quarter, especially at that time of year.

Naturally, our next day got to a late start. More fun in the Quarter, dinner at Kelly's favorite restaurant, Mr. B's, then some last minute souvenir shopping. We called it a relatively early night, as checkout was at 11 the next morning. It was okay, actually, because spending time with each other in such beautiful and luxurious surroundings certainly didn't suck! (When I learn how to post photos on this blog, I will put up some snaps from the weekend, including our suite.)

Our last day. Waah. We checked out, left our bags, and met my cousin Christine and hubby Jason for brunch. The place we had chosen in the Quarter had a two hour wait, so Jason took us to a little place they frequent just past the Garden District. We not only got breakfast, but a little tour of that beautiful section of town, which was lovely. They dropped us back at our hotel and we took off for the airport. It's going to be hard to top this weekend, but we will do our best next year!

In August, I actually had a lovely business trip up in New England, staying at a gorgeous B&B on the ocean in New Hampshire. The drive up took only four hours, relatively painless, and the entire trip was great, except for the vicious attacks I suffered at the hands of Red Sox fans. Even clients! It's hard to be a New Yorker in Red Sox Nation, especially so if you're a Yankee fan (and I deliberately left all identifying marks back home, or so I thought!). Even a state trooper harassed me! However, I had a terrific time with my colleagues, dined lavishly (one night overlooking the beach, complete with fireworks!), and hated to leave. We'll do it again next year.

Then came the official end of summer: Labor Day weekend. I had off from Friday through Tuesday, so it was a nice block of time away from the office. I basically took it easy, visiting with different friends daily, except for Monday, which was a total day of rest. Wednesday was back to reality, but I then ended the week with an unexpected and most pleasant client visit in Sheepshead Bay on Friday. This week is the first five day workweek I've had in more than a month, and I've managed to get through the first three days. You know what? After a great summer like this past one, reality TRULY bites!

Words Fail (Part II)

2007-07-26T11:49:00.000-07:00

This entry was going to be a recap of my wonderful weekend in New Orleans, but I'm putting that off for now because I am so disturbed over a recent home invasion that took place in Cheshire, Connecticut.

To sum up: the home of a Dr. Petit, his wife and two daughters was invaded by two paroled criminals. They savagely beat Dr. Petit, tied him up and threw him in the basement. Then the two of them apparently took turns raping the mother and children. Children. Tied to beds. Scared beyond reason. Absolute, sheer horror.

In the morning, one of the miscreants took the mother to the bank and forced her to withdraw $15,000. Somehow she communicated to a bank worker what was happening to her family. The thug brought her back to the house, but by the time police arrived, the house was blazing, the father had managed somehow to escape, but his wife and children were dead. The perps were caught fleeing the scene and are now under arrest.

Dr. Petit is in the hospital recovering from his serious physical wounds. I don't know if he knows the fate of his family at this point. Whether or not he may ever recover from that is anyone's guess. He is a respected endocrinologist and therefore a highly intelligent man, but this is one of the most horrific stories I've ever heard, and I cannot imagine how I would feel if I knew the victims, let alone were related to them.

I believe in the death penalty only when it is crystal clear that the offense(s) were, in fact, committed by the accused. It mystifies me why we spend our tax dollars supporting hardened criminals who have done such horrible things to others. Again, I don't believe in enacting this ultimate penalty if there is a shred of doubt, because you cannot raise the dead if DNA or other evidence proves them innocent after the fact. In this case, though, I'll be happy to press the button, depress the plunger, or give the order to permanently remove these scumbags from society.

My thoughts are with the Petit family. Prayers, too.

And The Fun Just Keeps On Coming!

2007-07-11T11:04:00.000-07:00

The summer of 1967 may have been "The Summer of Love" (I don't remember it well as I was kinda young), but for me, the summer of 2007 (40 years later -- eek!) is "The Summer of Fun." That's probably why I haven't updated this blog since May 15, when I listed most of my plans for the coming months. Many have been completed, with a few extras thrown in, and it's been wonderful.

Of course, to quote the great John Lennon, "life is what happens to you while you're making other plans." A couple of glitches: I took a spectacular flop whilst watering my back yard and landed mostly on my right upper tibia and knee, resulting in a bone bruise. They are PAINFUL. Fortunately, my trainer/friend, Ivy, is practically a sports medicine doctor, and was able to diagnose it and explain that it was going to take a LONG time to heal. It's been more than a month and there is still discomfort, but it's much more bearable than before. Watering the back yard a la Gunga Din (no hose hookup in the back) was never my idea of fun and games, but I've only had to do it a couple of times since then, as we've had nicely spaced out thunderstorms this summer. C'est la vie.

Then my beloved Eclipse was slammed into while innocently parked in the Whole Foods shopping center. Not only did I spend a "Whole Paycheck," but a bit more, as the bitch that hit me lied to the insurance company and claimed I was backing out. I told them that, had that been the case, there would have been a lot more damage than what actually happened (damage to my rear bumper). My insurance company had told me a police report wasn't necessary as no one was hurt and I was parked. Ha. I believed (as I usually do) in the intrinsic good of people and trusted the bitch to make an accurate report. Big mistake. So, a $260 lesson: ALWAYS make a police report. Her insurance company split the cost as it was a "she said/she said" situation. My only hope is that her insurance premiums go sky-high (the car, a Lexus SUV, was registered to a swanky address, and it would have behooved her just to pay for my repair...she probably could have found the money in the seat cushions. But I digress.).

To put a positive spin on that, I did meet the wonderful owner of Carriage House Collision, a body shop that I can recommend without reservation. My friend Gary has used them for years, and they took very good care of me and my four-wheeled baby, which looks gorgeous again. Plus, one of the mechanics fixed one of my new toys for me, but that's another story. Wanna hear it? Okay...

In June, I had dinner with pals Val and Stephen. Val told me to bring a selection of DVDs, as they'd just gotten a widescreen. Cool! When I got there, I looked around and saw no new electronic devices. "Oh, Steve usually sets it up in front of the fireplace." Huh? What? It turned out that Steve had bought a video projector to use for making multimedia presentations, along with a 70 x 70" movie screen. All he had to do was hook up a portable DVD player to the projector and some powered computer speakers, and voila! Big screen entertainment in the home! Come Monday, I was on Amazon.com and ordered my own version. Money well spent. I've had friends over for some spectacular movie nights, and brought the system down to Delaware, where we really enjoyed it. During that trip, however, the screen's tripod suffered a bent leg. That was when I got the brainstorm to bring it to Carriage House Collision, which fixed it rather easily. I triple love those guys. (Yes, they're pretty easy on the eyes, too!)

That's really all the "tragedies" I've met with this summer. Erin and Miko's wedding was a blast. A couple of weeks later, I got to interview Bradford Anderson, who plays "Spinelli" on General Hospital, and is one of the most popular new characters on the show. You'll see it here soon, but feel free to check out eyeonsoaps.com/mediaho (entry for July 8). In between those events was John and Patty's Memorial Day Bash, which was great fun. My friend Dianna joined the group, and they adored her. She's welcome there any time, which is lovely, as I consider them family. I think she broke a few hearts that day (Justin, Brian, Frank, etc.)!

Delaware was wonderful. How can you not love a state that charges no sales tax on anything? This makes the outlet shopping especially attractive, and I treated myself to a pair of kick-ass Bose noise-blocking headphones. What the hell. There's also lots of good eats. One of my favorites is this little diner in Ocean View (about four miles from the ocean, incidentally!), where the food is down-home and nicely priced. They also offer four kinds of homemade iced tea, and I fell in love with the unsweetened fresh mint tea. I swooned as the waitress handed me an extra one to go. Our next stop was a nursery, not really my favorite kind of place at the time, as the bone bruise was really hurting, but P found a nursery cat for me to play with as I sipped my tea, so I was content while she went through the plants and things. We also managed to hit the Five Guys Burger Joint (excellent) and Bethany Blues BBQ (also excellent), and I took over the grill one night and produced some great Porterhouse steaks. Plus, we had extremely big screen movies at night, as the house is well laid out for that sort of thing. A splendid time was had by all!

I've managed to tear myself away from my own big screen to go to some public big screens -- both "Live Free or Die Hard" and "Ratatouille" were fantastic. Very entertaining. Midway through "Ratatouille," I became extremely hungry and convinced my friends to go to a French restaurant afterwards. It, too, was fantastic, and is now on our list of preferred eateries.

What's next? How about a little trip to New Orleans? I'll be getting together with pals Kelly and Dianna in one of the greatest party cities in the country...what could be better? Four fun-filled days and nights in NOLA, complete with luxury accommodations. We will each have our own Jacuzzi in the Penthouse, which we'll probably need to recover from the hot days and hotter nights. The three of us always have a terrific time when we get together -- talk about "Fun In The Sun!" -- and this will be our greatest adventure to date. We're going to try to top it next year with Paris. I haven't been there since 2004, so it's way past time.

For now, laissez les bon temps roulez!

Fun, Fun, Fun

2007-05-15T07:53:00.000-07:00

The summer festivities have already begun, and I am totally psyched. Let's go in order:

1. May 19-20. Erin and Miko are getting married on the 19th. The party promises to be an absolute blast. There will be lots of cool people there and a good number of Miko's family and friends from Turkey. I can't wait to party with them. A number of us have taken rooms at the hotel, which means we can kick the party up a notch or two. I've been telling people I'll be slowly awakening on the 20th, surrounded by empty bottles of raki.

Actually, the 20th happens to be my birthday (which we don't dwell on much). Don, my bud/co-worker from the West Coast, has already planned that we'll be sleeping late, then meeting up with a couple of friends for a birthday lunch/hangover cure. He actually changed his flight plans so we could do this. What a sweetie!

I should get home in time for a small celebration with pals Sharon and Gary. We will then schedule a meeting of "The Birthday Club" - Sharon, Gary, Susan, Charlie and me -- which includes dinner out and a great time.

2. May 27. John and Patty's annual Memorial Day bash. They do it up right. We're talking two Weber grills in constant use, a hot dog machine, four frozen drink machines (Mudslides, Pina Coladas, Margaritas and Vodka Lemonade), and John's special Mojitos. Lots of great food, beverages, friends and family, I'm bringing my friend Dianna, as she can definitely party with this group. Good times!

3. June 7-10. Girls' Weekend in Bethany Beach, DE. It doesn't get much better than this. There is NO sales tax in Delaware, and they have incredible outlet centers right near our base. Great crab cakes, french fries on the Boardwalk (salt and vinegar required), and a great group of friends. Yay!

4. July 4-8. An extended 4th of July holiday break, courtesy of my employers. No plans yet, but you had best believe there WILL be stuff going on!

5. July 19-22. MAJOR Girl's Weekend in New Orleans! Dianna and I will fly from NY and meet Kelly, flying up from Florida, and check into our Penthouse suite right smack in the French Quarter. It will be very hot and humid, but that's OK. There are plenty of places to dive into should the heat get oppressive. We'll stock our full kitchen with lovely nibbly things and wine so if we really need a break, we'll have sustenance. The Penthouse has three bathrooms, with Jacuzzi tubs, so we can cool off nicely. (Not to mention a sweet entertainment system, so I'll bring a few DVDs just in case.) The battle plan is to go out in the mornings and explore (take the St. Charles streetcar through the Garden District, perhaps a tour of the Garden District, check out Jackson Square, play on Bourbon Street, visit Marie Laveau's House of Voodoo, and so on), have lunch, then back to the Penthouse if the heat becomes annoying. Take a Jacuzzi, a nap, then venture out for dinner. Kelly and I have been there before, so we have our favorite restaurants. One night, we'll do Kelly's place (Mr. B's). Another night will be my choice, The Court of Two Sisters. (My true favorite is Galatoires, but it's one of the few places that is sorta dressy, so forget it!) Dianna hasn't been to NOLA before, so I'm going to suggest she choose either K-Paul's or The House of Blues. Even though we're not there during a holiday, there will likely be a parade at some point, so we'll get our beads as we stroll the Quarter, beverages in hand. I think we'll have to go to Acme Oysters for lunch so we can have some fun with Dianna (who is NOT an oyster person!). We will also have to go to Cafe DuMonde one morning for its famous chicory coffee and beignets, but avoid the restroom which is (if you can believe this) worse than the bathroom in "Trainspotting." Foul does not even begin to describe it. We'll probably meet up with my cousin Christine for drinks one night and if we play our cards right, maybe she'll give us her Garden District tour, which is great. She knows all the hot spots in NOLA. And it will be hot, but we'll be surrounded by luxury, so we don't mind one bit. That's the way (uh-huh, uh-huh) we like it (uh-huh, uh-huh).

6. August (dates to be determined) -- road trip to New England to visit clients with our sales rep, Jerry, a fun guy indeed. A nice break from the tedium of office life, and a chance to see some nice people. There are worse things I could do.

That's it -- one of the busiest summers I can recall planning, and certainly one of the most enjoyable. Throw in a few half-day Fridays to get a jump on the weekend, and there you have it: Karen's Excellent Summerfest 2007. And on to Munich in October! Laissez les bon temps roulez!

"Health, health, health, darling..."

2007-05-04T10:11:00.000-07:00

That was one of many of my favorite lines spouted by Edina (Jennifer Saunders) Monsoon on "Absolutely Fabulous." It was especially funny considering she did the exact opposite as far as her own health was concerned. Along with best pal Patsy, she chain smoked, drank like an aquarium of fish, did whatever drugs were readily available, and so forth. Patsy once stole a case of Champagne from a store and claimed that she did it because she was an alcoholic, so it wasn't really a crime. The two of them were the '90s British version of Lucy and Ethel.

I went to the doctor the other day, concerned about some gastrointestinal distress I'd been experiencing, and was given a battery of tests. Amazingly, I passed all with flying colors. Ultrasound showed a strong and healthy heart, confirmed by an EKG and some kind of breathing test. The blood results came in today, and doc said, "Everything's great! Even your cholesterol is 180! See you in six months!" So, this distress is not the result of something more serious, which is a good thing, and can be treated with OTCs. And reduced stress (yeah, right).

This was especially puzzling to me, as health has not always been on my top ten list. However, I am working with a trainer once a week, who has also been consulting with me about the food that I eat. I have added things like red and pink kidney beans to my diet and cut back on fried foods, which do not agree with my guts. (Sadly, I recently found out that White Castle cheeseburgers are no longer my friends...talk about gastro distress!) I have never even tried a cigarette (eww, that smell), take only prescription and OTC drugs, and stick mostly to red wine, so perhaps that all has worked in my favor. I am the embodiment of the French Red Wine Paradox!

Frankly, the only thing that is skewed is my weight, but one can be both overweight and healthy. One thing at a time. Right now, the most important numbers are all good, so that's what matters most. Other numbers can be gradually dealth with.

So, tonight I will celebrate with a fine steak from Ottomanelli's and a lovely bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon! Here's to health!

Chasing Cars

2007-04-27T13:02:00.000-07:00

Since I hate listening to the radio, it's difficult for me to hear new music. Here's an embarassing example: the first "Charlie's Angels" movie had a kicking soundtrack, which I purchased. I particularly loved one song, and enthusiastically told a co-worker, "Hey, you've gotta listen to this great song, it's called 'Baby Got Back.'" When she picked herself up off the floor, still laughing hysterically, she informed me that it had been around for a while. Like YEARS. Whoops. Well, she never let me forget that, and would pop into my office now and then to announce that there was a really cool new song that I HAD to listen to, called "Hey Jude." Or "Flashdance." You get the idea.

Anyway, I still hear new music either purely by chance, or from the soundtrack of a movie or tv show. Today I was checking out a video post on Rosie O'Donnell's blog, called Snow Patrol. I heard the song, thought it sounded familiar, and needed to ID it so I could buy it from iTunes. My friend Erin recognized it right away -- "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol. When I looked it up on iTunes, I noticed it had been used in last season's finale of "Grey's Anatomy," which makes perfect sense. That show prides itself on selecting the ideal songs to go with the story being told, and there have been two "soundtrack" CDs released to date.

Here are the lyrics. I think they're beautiful.

Chasing Cars (Snow Patrol)

We’ll do it all
Everything
On our own

We don’t need
Anything
Or anyone

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

I don’t quite know
How to say
How I feel

Those three words
Are said too much
They’re not enough

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Forget what we’re told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that’s bursting into life

Let’s waste time
Chasing cars
Around our heads

I need your grace
To remind me
To find my own

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Forget what we’re told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that’s bursting into life

All that I am
All that I ever was
Is here in your perfect eyes, they’re all I can see

I don’t know where
Confused about how as well
Just know that these things will never change for us at all

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

David Halberstam, R.I.P. -- Who Can Fill His Shoes?

2007-04-25T11:37:00.000-07:00

Pulitzer Prize winning journalist and author David Halberstam, 73, was killed in a car accident earlier this week. Noted for his Vietnam War reporting (for which he won the Pulitzer), he later authored many books on war, politics, baseball, 9/11 firefighters, and other subjects. Currently, he was researching a book about the 1958 NFL championship game, and was traveling to interview one of the players when the car in which he was riding was broadsided.

The only book of Halberstam's that I've read is "Firefighters," which he wrote about the firehouse in his Manhattan neighborhood, which lost all but one of its shift responding to the 9/11 tragedy. I came upon it when Vanity Fair published a generous excerpt from the book, which moved me to tears. I purchased a copy for my uncle, a volunteer firefighter and a heroic survivor of Tower Two.

Mike Lupica, whom I've always called our generation's Damon Runyon, is a gifted columnist for the New York Daily News. He is primarily a sports columnist, but started out writing about more general topics. He now writes a political column once a week, probably in response to the yahoos who write in and complain when his Sunday sports and opinion column dares to include a comment about the war in Iraq or other important things outside the realm of sports. He's one of the best.

Lupica wrote about Halberstam on Wednesday, April 24. I am going to quote from the last paragraphs, because I think more people should read his words:

"Could a more vigilant media have stopped any of this [the Iraq mess]? Of course not. Halberstam and Neil Sheehan and the rest of them couldn't stop the war in Vietnam from playing out to its tragic conclusions 40 years ago and nobody was going to stop this President from his Messianic vision for Iraq and the Middle East and himself most of all. Or force him to learn from the past.

This is from the last page of [Halberstam's book] 'The Best and the Brightest':

'...time was on the side of the enemy, and we were in a position of not being able to win, not being able to get out...And so the war went on, tearing at this country; a sense of numbness seemed to replace an earlier anger. There was, Americans were finding, no light at the end of the tunnel, only greater darkness.'

The man who wrote that, wrote about a war from which we did not learn, died Monday. Along with nine more of ours in Iraq."

Dare I say that the baton has been passed to you, Mike Lupica?

The Rose Is Off The View

2007-04-25T08:14:00.000-07:00

A few days prior to her self-imposed "deciding deadline" of May 1, Rosie O'Donnell has announced that she could not come to terms with ABC on her contract. They wanted three years, she only one. TMZ.com reported that she will make frequent appearances next season, but will not be a regular.

Roseanne Barr put it best when she told Rosie that she'd brought a new level of intelligence to the always-lively "Hot Topics" discussions (in fact, most days devote three instead of the customary two segments to "Hot Topics," as they've become incendiary).

If Rosie shows up fairly regularly, I'll continue to tape and watch, but will have to make a judgement on that depending on how the program is reworked. Perhaps her spot will be filled by one of the guest hosts (I vote for Sherry Springfield; she's terrific) and O'Donnell can become sort of a permanent guest host. I could live with that.

Naturally, there are rumors that she may undertake another show altogether. She's been getting lots of emails raving about her video blogs, which also feature her hairdresser and producer. Her responses to questions about that have been extremely positive.

Nevertheless, I will miss watching, listening and learning from this wise and witty woman. She's made me think, made me angry (mostly about the current administration and this illegal war in Iraq), made me laugh, and managed to introduce me to a couple of Broadway shows I might not have otherwise seen.

Rosie, you gave it your all, and always gave your true view. I thank you for this past year of magical thinking. You done good, kid. Now it's time to sit back, relax, and enjoy the view from Nyack and Miami...until your next project. Bless you.

Hooray! The Votes Are In...And Heather's Out!

2007-04-25T07:55:00.000-07:00

The only reason why this came as a (minor) surprise is because Heather Mills has been playing the "look at me, I've got one leg" card for her entire tenure on "Dancing With The Stars." Finally, the votes reflected her lack of talent. Yes, actor John Ratzenberger scored lower with the judges this week, but Heather's dances had been spotty at best, relying on stunts and sympathy. She even had a farewell speech prepared (tucked into her bandage, no doubt, forcing her to reveal her prothesis one last time), which was a bit self-serving (did you know it was judge Carrie Ann Inaba's fault that she lost, for daring to score her a 7?).

Anyway, she's gone and I'm happy.

Loving "Dancing With The Stars"...for the most part

2007-04-24T08:52:00.000-07:00

Early on, I predicted that the Final Four would be Cheryl and Ian, Laila and Maks, Joey and Kym, and Apolo and Julianne. I don't think I'm far off, and feel safe to now predict that the two finalists will be Apolo and Laila.

Heather Mills is going for the sympathy vote (never mind last week's fall, did you notice how high she was swishing her skirts this week, clearly revealing her prothesis?). Mills also has no real fan base to count on, but it must be considered that her soon-to-be ex-husband, beloved Beatle Paul McCartney has a huge number of fans, and I'll bet they're not casting their votes for the "Charity Campaigner."

Billy Ray Cyrus has a double base, his music fans and the fans of the Disney show he appears on (which stars his daughter), "Hannah Montana." His dancing is erratic -- he can be entertaining or downright awful.

John Ratzenberger, like the geezers before him (Jerry Springer, George Hamilton), charms everyone, but he is one of the weaker dancers. Last week, Judge Bruno proclaimed his dance "the best worst samba I've ever seen!" He's managed to hold on, but tonight could be it for the former "Cheers" star.

Cheryl and Ian may suffer from the fact that she's the reigning champion, two seasons running, and I think the judges are being particularly tough on them. True, Ian does come across as "McStiffy" at times, but he is working hard at learning the routine. Cheryl needs to loosen him up. If she could get retired athelete Emmitt Smith to the winner's circle, she certainly can do it with Ian.

Apolo's speed skating expertise adds to his natural grace and exuberance. He's a delight to watch, and I thought his "Pulp Fiction" number from a few weeks ago was underrated by the judges. Last week he scored the first perfect 30, and came close again last night. The tacky disco ball trophy may yet join his Olympic Gold Medals -- won't that be an interesting trophy case?

Joey is following in Drew Lachey's boy band alumni shoes, which gives him a bit of an edge, as he's spent time learning grueling song and dance routines through his career. I run hot and cold on him, but still think he'll be in the Final Four. Plus, his appearance with Guillermo on Jimmy Kimmel's segment last week was very funny. He gets points for spoofing himself.

What is there to say about Laila other than she is gorgeous and has turned in several very credible dances? I was surprised at first, then remembered all the footwork involved in boxing (courtesy of "Million Dollar Baby"). That gives her a decided edge, along with her strong personality (wherever did she get that?). Paired up with the equally strong-willed Maksim, and you've got a winning team. I thought her dance last night was stunning, even the part that she choreographed for herself, and she deserves to go all the way to the finals.

I've been hooked on this show since the first season. At times the choice of "Stars" for each season has stymied me, but most have proven to be most entertaining (major exceptions: Master P, Kenny Moyle, Tucker Carlson, Clyde Drexler, and Trista the Bachelorette). The "Results" show, with its mix of guest artists, is reminiscent of the old "Ed Sullivan" variety show, and works as a program all on its own (and I wish the producers would consider continuing it, obviously without the "results" segments, as a stand-alone variety show). After each "DWTS" show, I immediately call a dear friend and dancing teacher extraordinaire, Patty, and we critique the performances, which is as much fun as watching them.

Five weeks to go, and I'll be glued to the set for all of them. Sadly, when it ends, that means I have to pick up another night (Monday) at the gym. Well, maybe I'll be inspired by the DWTS participants, all of whom are in better shape at the end of the competition (have you seen Edyta's abs? Dumb question; if you watch the show, you've seen most of what Edyta's got, and it's enough to make one go to the gym!).

On Another Front...

2007-04-18T11:12:00.000-07:00

My bathroom is 95 percent finished! Mainly due to my buddy Pete, who came over last Thursday after a long day of work and spent two hours hanging shelves and other things on the newly painted walls. I ended up going to Fortunoff's and spending more than I wanted to on two glass shelves and a towel ring, but what the heck. It's not like you're going to be buying those items frequently. The style wasn't exactly what I wanted (the ones I preferred were only available in chrome, rats), a bit more ornate, but they look lovely and were hung perfectly. One displays some perfume bottles, the other a model Woody Wagon and a beautiful conch shell that my mother treasured.The new towels (yes, more money spent, but worth it) pick up on the aquamarine colors in the shower curtain and are lovely and fluffy. Amazing what a spin in Aunt Judy's washer and dryer, complete with the vanilla and lavender soap and softener that she buys because I love the scent, will do. All of a sudden, these flat things I'd bought at Kohl's had doubled in size and smelled gorgeous.

One final thing is needed to complete the bathroom, and it will either be a small, fake surfboard or a framed Beach Boys (or Ventures) record. There is a chance that my pal Kelly B. will find a porthole-shaped mirror on one of her shopping trips (I admired the one in her son's bathroom), which would work nicely.

While on a decorating tear, it must be mentioned that my cable company came last week to swap out new digital set-top boxes for the existing ones and caused quite a commotion. The old ones were about the size of a DVD player and had a clock display that was always accurate, even during the switch to/from Daylight Savings Time. The new and improved digital boxes are about the size of a portable CD player -- but NO clock display! The technician laughed at my howls of woe and admitted that all his other customers had the same reaction.

I saw my friends Sharon and Gary enjoying the sunny weather on their front stoop and told them about the change. They howled, too. Gary is determined to delay their swap out. Sharon, ever the voice of reason, said, "Well, we'll just have to get small digital clocks to put on top of the televisions so we can glance at it the way we always have."

She's right. The next day, we were caught in a Nor'easter rain storm, and spent the day at home (except for poor Gary, who works on Sunday). I decided to start a "Twin Peaks" marathon, and almost immediately called Sharon in horror. Not because Laura Palmer had washed up on the beach, mind you, but because when something is playing on the VCR/DVD combo, the clock display changes to tick off the time of the tape or DVD playing! OMG! I told Sharon that she was the only person I could call who would understand my angst. She laughed, agreed, and said, "I guess we'll be visiting Radio Shack this week!"

If this is the worst trauma I experienced during the storm (it was), I deserve no pity. None. Especially since it seems my roof is FINALLY leak-proof, and I won't have to redecorate the bathroom any time soon. I just thought I'd share.

Words Fail

2007-04-18T10:59:00.000-07:00

Today's Daily News ran pictures of the Virginia Tech victims, along with a brief bio of each. I am struggling to hold back tears here in my office at work because I work for two rabid NRA members who would no doubt defend the shooter's right to bear arms.

As was expressed on "The View" yesterday, when the Bill of Rights was created, no one could possibly have envisioned a world with rapidly firing automatic weapons. They were used to muskets and heavy cannon. Militias were needed to protect citizens. It's more than 200 years later. Other parts of the Constitution have been amended. It is time that this is addressed in a calm and sane manner.

I have no problem with licensed folks who are trained to use firearms to own them for their own personal protection. Some people transport money or valuables as part of their business. Others are fearful in their own homes, which they have the right to protect. However, does one need an AK-47 to hunt deer? Quail? Buffalo? I think not.

Rosie O'Donnell has said that she spent five years protesting our gun control "laws," but has come to realize that they will never change as long as they have such a powerful lobbying group (that would be the NRA). Look at Europe. They have much stricter rein over guns there (British police do not even carry guns) and fewer incidents of the Columbine or VT kind. Fewer individual murders caused by guns, too.

The shooter passed the requisite FBI check needed to purchase a gun. Perhaps a psychological test is in order. From all accounts, no one who knew him on that campus would have felt comfortable if he possessed a sling shot, let alone guns.

I grieve for these students and faculty members, along with our fallen service men and women. The first group dead because of our archaic laws. The second group dead because our administration lied to us and put our troops in harm's way. Which instance is more egregious?

"The Secret"

2007-03-21T10:07:00.000-07:00

You know, I've been hearing all the hoopla about Oprah's newest literary love, and I have to laugh. Several years ago -- like, about 1985 or 86 -- my mother forced me to go to a seminar called "Creative Visualization," along with her friend, Ann. The five-hour long seminar had a lunch break, and my mother and her friend Marion arranged to meet me and Ann for lunch at that time. Their reason? They knew that if they didn't, we would sneak out and never return to the seminar. They were right. We had to listen to this guy pontificate about how if you visualize what you want (obsessively, in my book), it will be yours. That was how he got his Porsche, for heaven's sake! I remember Ann and I turning to each other frequently, snarling and glancing at our watches. We were the only two in the group who flat-out refused to participate, as far as sharing our desires with the group. Afterwards, we met Marion and my mom at a bar. We got there early and started drinking, snarling between sips/gulps. When the evil seminar forces showed up, we snarled at them. Why they made us go to this absurd waste of time was beyond us, and we made them suffer.

So, all the hype about "The Secret" has brought back a memory of something I probably tried to suppress all these years. What a bunch of hooey -- then and now.

Decorating Frenzy

2007-03-21T09:27:00.000-07:00

Not my usual pasttime, but a necessary task, due to the fact that I had a horrible roof leak which resulted in the destruction of my bathroom wallpaper (and a good portion of the walls). Management finally completed the repairs and painting, and my bathroom now has bright white walls (oil-based Benjamin Moore paint to combat mold/mildew; it's been nearly a week and the paint still reeks). The rest of the walls have lovely yellow tiles halfway up and more so in the shower/bath area. I decided to build on my mother's shell collection and create a sand/beach/surf theme, and found the perfect shower curtain at Bed, Bath and Beyond (it's been discontinued there, so the price was great, but Linens n Things carries the whole collection under the "Surf's Up!" name). It has surfboards, Woody Wagons, sand and seashells, so there are a lot of things I can do. I plan to get some glass shelves to display shells and a model Woody Wagon sent by a friend (as well as some perfume bottles -- some things never change) and am on the prowl for a small surfboard or two to hang on the other wall. A large glass jar -- catproof -- of my mother's shells now sits atop the toilet tank, and a coordinating rug covers part of the white tiled floor. (If I can find a small surfboard-shaped rug, the other one's history!)

One thing I found particularly amusing about this venture was that on St. Patrick's Day, I called creative P to ask for tips/hints. She had just finished a SPD breakfast with friends that had featured Guinness. What's wrong with this picture, I asked -- you're having an Irish breakfast and I'm calling for bathroom decorating help! Something is very mixed up here.

If I get really ambitious, I'll have to frame a Beach Boys album cover or 45 (remember them?) and then my fate will be sealed: P will sign me up for a subscription to "Martha Stewart Living." It has been threatened before, this may finally do it. Yikes.

Rocking With Th Wh

2007-03-21T09:09:00.000-07:00

No, those aren't typos in the header -- since half of The Who have gone to their reward, I now refer to them as "Th Wh." Nevertheless, the concert was wonderful. Our seats were side of stage, maybe two-thirds up the wall, and they were great. I had a pair of binoculars, but they were only needed to zone in on things. We could see all the band members quite nicely, and we had the added benefit of a large screen nearby.

They had a small power trio of young guys from Colorado open the show. I don't recall their band's name, but they were heavily influenced by Led Zep. I couldn't help but marvel at the fact that these unknown pups were opening for TH WH! What an honor -- probably the highlight of their musical careers thus far. They played for about a half hour and then, 20 minutes later, the main event began.

"I Can't Explain," followed by "Anytime, Anyhow, Anywhere." Classic. "Who Are You." Fabulous. Then a couple of songs off the new album (not so exciting), followed by "Behind Blue Eyes." Yay. After a six-song mini-opera off the new album, the band rewarded us with "Baba O'Riley." Screams ensued. Some more classics, then the first big finish: "Won't Get Fooled Again." A brief exit, then they returned, triumphant, as Pete Townshend hit the opening chords of "Pinball Wizard," which turned into an extended medley from "Tommy." Fantastic. One more exit, then the original band members returned to perform an acoustic tune about being survivors or something along those lines.

Both Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend were stellar. Daltry was a little hoarse here and there, but that's not unusual. He still swings a mean microphone and looks great. Townshend jumps, windmills, and sings as well as ever. Drummer Zak Starkey is one of the greatest musicians ever to command a drum set, and bassist Pino Palladino is also excellent. Keyboards played by Rabbit, background vocals and rhythm guitar by Simon Townshend, Pete's younger brother.

They played for about two hours. Unfortunately, it was a Sunday night and I was due at work the next day, which I managed to attend, despite staying awake until 2am on a concert-induced high (no, nothing illicit -- Nassau Coliseum, like many arenas, is smoke-free, so no contact highs available). You'd stay up late too if you'd just seen Th Wh. And yes, I'd still walk over you to see Th Wh!

My Own Pursuit of Happyness

2007-03-01T10:20:00.000-08:00

Looking over my most recent entries, I see they are decidedly serious. Therefore, here's some fun stuff:

1. I just got tickets to see THE WHO at Nassau Coliseum! First of all, I LOVE going to Nassau. It's so much easier than Madison Square Garden and the Meadowlands (not quite as easy as Westbury Music Fair, but it's much larger and gets bigger acts). They haven't been doing as many concerts at Nassau as they used to, so I was absolutely delighted when I saw this on the Daily News calendar for March. The tickets are side stage, upper level, but it doesn't matter. I've seen The Who three times (my first was their legendary performance of "Tommy" at Lincoln Center; I believe I was all of nine years old), and this will be the first time without bassist John Entwhistle. However, their best post-Keith Moon drummer, Zak Starkey, will be behind the skins, and he has ten times the drumming skills of his legendary dad (BTW, that would be Ringo Starr!). I'm going with my fellow Who-lover, BennyO, and we should have a blast. Time to start listening to some Who CDs!

2. Rod Stewart will be at Nassau in May, and I am working on getting tickets for that, too.

3. Business is taking me to Munich...in October! Not only will I get to see some dear friends who live outside the city, but I'll have a better-than-excellent chance of drinking beer at the Oktoberfest! (When I last went, it was the closing weekend, and it was totally packed...if you didn't have a seat, you didn't get served. I made two visits/attempts, and left Oktoberfest beerless. What a sin.)

4. Planning a girl's weekend in New Orleans with two dear friends. We'll stay at a lovely B&B I discovered a few years back, right inside the French Quarter. Lessez les bon temps roulez!

5. Erin and Miko are getting married! The night before my birthday! So, I can party hard with plenty of friends, then crash at the hotel, having celebrated their wedding and my birthday in one fell swoop. Niiiice.

The Oscars, In A Word: Bor-ing

2007-03-01T09:56:00.000-08:00

I did everything I could to make sure I'd make it through the entire award ceremony. Slept late, took a nap, coordinated dinner with the start of the show at 8 pm, and still...around 10:30, I was in dreamland. Appropriate, since I'd just had a nightmare that Eddie Murphy lost the Best Supporting Actor award to Alan Arkin. Unfortunately, the tape I had running as a backup proved that nightmare true. Then I viewed part two of my nightmare, which was that "Dreamgirls" did not win the Best Song category.

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against either Alan Arkin or Melissa Etheridge. I saw "Little Miss Sunshine" the day before the Oscars and was underwhelmed by everything except Arkin's all-too-brief performance (his character died about 30 minutes into the movie). I admire Etheridge both as a talented singer/songwriter and as a strong, smart woman. HOWEVER. Has anyone heard her song from the documentary "An Inconvenient Truth?" Okay, it's Melissa Etheridge, it has to be good, if not excellent. HOWEVER. "Dreamgirls" is now one of my favorite movies of all time. I saw it on Broadway after it opened 26 years ago, with the original cast, and wore out my vinyl record of its cast recording. Loved it. I went to see the movie a few days after it opened, and I loved it, too. I have never, ever been to a movie that was given three rounds of applause. The first, after Jennifer Hudson's unforgettable performance of "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going." The second came at the end. And then the audience actually waited for the credits to roll so they could applaud Hudson once more. (This phenomena was not limited to the theater I was in, it was reported all across the country.)

Because of Oscar rules, only songs written for a movie may be nominated for an award, which left out the original Broadway tunes. However, there were plenty of good new ones in the movie, evidenced by the fact that it got three of the five nominations (Randy Newman's song from "Cars" was also nominated). Director Bill Condon staged a special arrangement of the three nominated songs, performed beautifully by Hudson, Beyonce, Aniki Noni Rose, and Keith Washington.

Fortunately, I was able to see that when I woke up the next day. Then, to my horror, I saw the award go to someone else.

Of course I was thrilled when Jennifer Hudson received her richly-deserved Best Supporting Actress Oscar, and happy that Helen Mirren, Forrest Whitaker and Martin Scorsese won, too (kudos to Francis Ford Coppola, George Lucas and Steven Spielberg for presenting the Best Director Oscar to Scorsese). Ellen was no Billy Crystal, but she was okay. She pulled it off far better than most, that's for sure (with the exception of Crystal). I agreed with Regis Philbin, who said the show needed MORE Ellen! But it was long, which translated to dull. Way too long.

A solution? Televise only the acting, directing, song and picture awards (including Foreign Film and Documentary). Have a separate show, perhaps on the AMC cable channel, that includes everything else. Then you can insert your tributes to those who have passed away, and another one or two about the movies, even a humanitarian and/or legendary award, and you'll have an Oscar telecast that is half the length and much more entertaining. Here's another thought: The Grammys have worked without a main host for the last two telecasts, and all seemed fine. Maybe that's too radical for the Oscars, but it's clear that radical changes must be made.

DWI Horror Resolved? Hardly.

2007-03-01T09:17:00.000-08:00

About a year and a half ago, there was a horrific drunken driving accident on Long Island. A family returning home from a relative's wedding in a limosine was slammed into by a guy DRIVING THE WRONG WAY on the Meadowbrook Parkway. The limo driver was killed, as was a seven year old child, who had earlier that day served as a flower girl at the wedding. The child was decapitated. Her mother held her severed head in her lap.

Amazingly, the perpetrator (I will not call him by name), who had at least 14 drinks before choosing to get behind the wheel of his pickup, pleaded not guilty, then was astonished when the prosecutors pushed for a murder charge (two, actually). Depraved indifference to human life, they called it, and I absolutely agree. He was eventually convicted on the murder charges, and was sentenced yesterday.

The judge could have given the maximum 25 years to life punishment, which seemed lenient after hearing victim impact statements from the two anguished families. Instead, although he agreed that the defendant "showed pure, blatant, callious and wanton disregard" for life, he imposed a sentence of 18 to life.

I don't know when this perp will be eligible for parole, but I do know that there are two families serving life without parole -- but plenty of agony -- because of the deaths of Stanley Rabinowitz and Katie Flynn. Here's one thing I know for certain: the name of the judge who imposed this joke of a sentence. He is Acting Nassau County Supreme Court Justice Alan Honorof. Even his surname is a joke.

This will not give them closure, but I fervently hope that the Flynn and Rabinowitz families sue the bar that served those drinks to the perp for punitive damages. Put them out of business. Teach them a lesson. And may they every day see the faces of the victims of a crime they aided and abetted.

For the Flynn and Rabinowitz families, I wish strength and peace, and I hope it comes sooner rather than later.

Shonda Rhimes: Genius

2007-02-15T19:10:00.000-08:00

I've probably written about her before, but just to underscore it, Shonda Rhimes, creator of "Grey's Anatomy," is brilliant. When she writes episodes, you know it. Part two of a three part storyline just aired, and it was killer on many levels. The ending of part two, with Meredith in heaven, meeting the bomb squad guy who was blown to bits in front of her and Denny, Izzy's love, was sublime. And yet...

I was originally not going to mention Rhimes' genius and just write this: she took my breath away during the scenes when medical personnel were trying to match victims with family members. When one particular person identified his (now) late wife by viewing a Polaroid photo, it sucked the air out of me. I could relate. I know how he felt.

I know.

I know.

I know.

A Train Wreck Waiting to Happen

2007-02-09T09:55:00.000-08:00

The news of Anna Nicole Smith's death at the age of 39 saddened me. Not because I was a fan, but because it was another case of a person surrounded by leeches who overlooked self-destructive behavior as long as the money kept rolling in.

Elvis Presley comes immediately to mind. He was constantly among the guys/hangers-on known as "The Memphis Mafia," yet no one noticed his extreme appetities when it came to food and pills? Come on! (If there's any solace to be found in the tragedy that Elvis became, it's that "The Memphis Mafia" was left with very little -- which was certainly more than they deserved.)

Where were Whitney Houston's loved ones during the horror that was her marriage to Bobby Brown? Perhaps Clive Davis, her original mentor, can help her come back from that disaster. I hope so.

There are many more examples, but please find them for yourself; I'm too disgusted to continue. Smith has been dead less than 24 days, and they've already sold footage of her inert (and, reportedly, not visible) body being wheeled out on a gurney. The same people who were less than decent to her in life soldier on. How pathetic.

Eating Crow Regarding Earlier Post, "James Blonde?"

2007-02-02T08:40:00.000-08:00

Every now and then I like to do something out of the box. Last Thursday, I went with friends Sharon and Gary to a 10:20pm showing of "Casino Royale," as it was literally our last chance to see it unless we wanted to schlep into Manhattan. Neither Sharon nor Gary had to work on Friday, and I scheduled a client appointment for lunchtime, giving me a couple of extra hours of sleep. We three were slightly dubious about the movie's potential and more so about the casting of Daniel Craig as Bond.

Well, we three were blown away. Non-stop excitement (well, except for the card games, which never do anything for me) and action. Craig was masterful as Bond. He looked great in and out of a tuxedo (especially out), and was probably the most feral Bond ever. As for the movie, I rank it in the top three of all Bond films, and quite possibly number one. Now I can't wait for the DVD, but am glad I made the extra effort to see it in the theater. It was worth the late evening.

Mr. Craig, I apologize for my initial apprehension, and hope that you make many, many more Bond films. (After all, you're only 38, the youngest actor ever to play Bond!) At the risk of offending Sean Connery fans, you ARE Bond.

Now, would someone please get me a bowl of crow?

Deep Thoughts and Other Stuff

2007-02-02T08:17:00.000-08:00

Didn't you love those "Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey" vignettes on SNL back in the '90s? They always made me smile.

Other things that are making smile these days: "Ugly Betty," Jennifer Hudson and her upcoming Oscar win, the soundtrack of "Dreamgirls," the Democratic majority and how it is responding to Shrub's "surge" proposal.

"Ugly Betty," which has won Golden Globes and SAG Awards in recent weeks, just laid a tremendous story twist on us, and it's brilliant. So was much of the dialogue in last night's show (which, thankfully, I taped so I can watch it again tonight, hanging on every word). The show is nearly perfect in its writing and the performance of its wonderful cast, led by young America Ferrara. Having seen Ferrara in "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants," I knew this was a show I'd check out when it debuted (and having Vanessa Williams on board didn't hurt one bit), and I'm so glad I did. I even convinced my friend Susan to watch it, despite her dislike of the show's title. Well, she started watching it and called me up screaming about how great it was. I smiled and couldn't resist a "told you so!"

ABC has me rather pleased these days with the quality of my favorite prime time shows. I never miss "Ugly Betty," "Grey's Anatomy," "Desperate Housewives" and "Brothers and Sisters" (I even watch "Supernanny on occasion, even though I'm not big on kids. It's probably the pleasure I get from seeing Jo Frost discipline those brats, plus confirmation that my firm decision not to have kids was the right one for me!). I deviate to another network only for one show, "Las Vegas," but as that program's stars include some ABC alums, no guilt trip there.

Jennifer Hudson is a real-life Cinderella story, isn't she? Talented enough to get near the end of the finals of "American Idols," yet a target of some of Simon Cowell's more odious comments, she beat out more than 800 other contenders for the role of Effie White in "Dreamgirls" (including, in a sweet bit of irony, "AI" winner Fantasia). I saw the original Broadway production, and could not imagine anyone other than Jennifer Holliday as Effie. Before I saw the movie, I listened to its soundtrack, and while I liked Hudson's rendition of "And I Am Telling You I Am Not Going," I thought it a lesser performance. Then I saw the movie, merging Hudson's singing with her out-of-this-world performance, and I realized how wrong I was. Sometimes hearing is not enough; you need the performance visual to fully appreciate a song. (Did I just regurgitate the original business plan for MTV?) Hudson deserves all the accolades and awards she's been getting. The audience applauded her performance, applauded at the end of the movie, then waited for the cast credits to roll, giving Hudson yet another round of applause. I have never seen this happen at a movie, yet I understand it happened at many screenings of "Dreamgirls." I'm just pissed that it wasn't nominated for a "Best Picture" Oscar, but am sure it will grab several statues on February 25. Jennifer Hudson will be holding one, and so will Eddie Murphy. Dream movie, dream cast.

Dreamgirls, Ugly Betty Big Winners At Globes

2007-01-16T07:27:00.000-08:00

With three exceptions, I predicted the major Golden Globe Award winners last night, and was delighted when the first award was given to Jennifer Hudson for her Best Supporting Actress role in "Dreamgirls" (which also won Best Picture, Musical/Comedy and Best Supporting Actor, Eddie Murphy). My main disappointments were that "Babel" beat "The Queen" for Best Picture, Drama, and that some song from "Happy Feet" beat out "Listen," the gorgeous song sung by Beyonce in "Dreamgirls." At least the winning song was written by Prince, but that's little comfort. I'd also picked Stephen Frears as Best Director for "The Queen," but Martin Scorsese picked up that award. I'm sure he deserved it, but I haven't yet seen "The Departed."

The two television shows honored for Drama and Comedy were "Grey's Anatomy" and "Ugly Betty," both two of my favorite programs. I was also thrilled to see America Ferrara win Best Actress in a Comedy for "Ugly Betty." This young lady is a real talent, and far from ugly. She's intelligent, daring, and a gifted actress.

Meryl Streep gave a marvelous speech after receiving her award for Best Actress/Comedy (movie) for "The Devil Wears Prada," making me wish she did more comedy. She started out by scanning the audience and quipping, "Yes, I believe I've worked with everyone in this room!" Her speech got even better as she continued. However, I don't think anyone can top Helen Mirren's Emmy acceptance speech, when she won for "Elizabeth I" (as she did last night, as well as for "The Queen."). When Mirren got to the podium, she exclaimed, "I'm just happy I didn't go ass over tit on my way up here!" I hope that audience was wearing Depends.

There were other winners that I agreed with (and some I did not), but, overall, it was a good show. Tom Hanks' presentation of the Cecil B. DeMille Award to Warren Beatty was a real hoot, and if you're lucky, you'll find a clip of it on YouTube.

Next: The Oscars! All eyes on Jennifer Hudson!

The Rosie vs The Donald

2007-01-04T10:08:00.000-08:00

Rosie O'Donnell has generated both ratings and controversy for "The View" since joining its panel in September. A couple of weeks ago, she took on megalomaniac Donald Trump, whose ego exceeds even his combover. O'Donnell took issue with his handling of the Miss USA controversy (one of the two "contests" he owns), calling him a poor role model for young women (true) among other things, which clearly hurt his widdle feelings. Trump immediately fired back with a mass of personal insults and threatened lawsuits. He was annoyed that she referred to his bankruptcy filings (they were not, apparently, for personal bankruptcy but for his casino businesses) and claimed that Barbara Walters had told him she regretted hiring O'Donnell.

Yesterday's show was the first live broadcast with Walters since the controversy broke, and she started by stating unequivocally that she was pleased with O'Donnell and what she had brought to the show. She then read a statement, at the behest of parent company ABC, that clarified the bankruptcy brouhaha. Walters made it very clear that O'Donnell was on a previously-arranged family vacation (as part of her contract, she has off when her children's school is in recess) and would be back next week. The show's ratings have been higher than ever, and it has been singled out by various media outlets as "a show to watch."

It is no coincidence that Trump's "The Apprentice" premieres next week. This master of self-promotion will do anything to call attention to himself and his sagging reality show. Who will he attack next? I'll bet Rosie's silence on the matter is driving him nuts. Serves him right. There's nothing worse you can do to a blowhard than ignore him. I vote we all ignore him when "The Apprentice" returns to the airwaves.

Merry Freakin' Christmas

2006-12-25T19:59:00.000-08:00

Another year, another Christmas. I enjoy parts of it, but lay wasted by others. I am delighted that the shopping is over, and the wrapping completed, even for the folks I exchange with after the holidays.

I spent Christmas Eve, as I always do, with my friends, the Mocklers, and their huge extended family. They are amazing. I always say that they are such a pleasure to hang out with, as they are one of the few families I know that genuinely enjoy spending time with each other. Some family members try to tell me I'm wrong, that they're dysfunctional. Uh-uh. That would be MY family!

We spent Christmas Eve just enjoying each others' company, along with the wonderful food produced by the clan. I really should have been born Italian. There was so much love in the house, even more when I found out that daughter Michelle was expecting baby number two. Everyone is so affectionate, and I just love being with them.

I finally remembered to bring along something I've promised for years. This is a hard one, so follow me: Patty's brother-in-law, Kevin, was once married to a girl, Eileen, with whom I went to elementary and junior high school. They divorced, and I never really saw Eileen again, but I always saw her kids on Christmas Eve. I kept promising to bring our junior high yearbook, and finally remembered to do so this year. Unfortunately, son Kevin Jr. was out snowboarding in Lake Tahoe, but her daugher, Keira, was thrilled to see the yearbook. Her older brother took a picture of her photo in the yearbook and emailed it to Keira's computer so she could torture her mom with it today. Truth be told, my photo was worse, but I'm not the one being tortured!

Today, Christmas, was pretty easy. I spent the night waking up with the beginnings of a cold, but managed to knock most of it out with Airborne. I then went to my Aunt Judy's and saw her family. They came with me to my grandmother's house, where we had the traditional Christmas dinner, including the Swedish meatballs I made (with pal Marna) last week. I also enjoyed the traditional frozen caramel chocolate candy fight with some of my relatives. It was a short evening, but that was good. I am a bit tired and look forward to spending the last few moments of Christmas with my furry fiends, um, friends. Cousin Christine bought them a stocking filled with catnip, and they immediately found it when I unloaded the car. I'm hoping that will make them sleep through the night. Actually, they will probably have kitty munchies and will pester me for food earlier than usual. Oh well.

The Tragedy of Anthony Perkins and Berry Berenson

2006-12-25T19:40:00.000-08:00

A strange night to be writing about the actor Anthony Perkins, but I'm going through Season 1 of "Saturday Night Live," and I've just gotten to the show he hosted, number 15. It reminded me of how much suffering the actor and his family have gone through, astonishing, and such a difficult legacy for his two sons.

Consider: Perkins, son of a stage and film actor, had his greatest fame in the movie "Psycho." Later efforts never really lived up to his early triumph. Though long suspected (and then admitted) a bisexual, he married model/actress Berenthia "Berry" Berenson. She had an even more impressive family tree, which included designer Elsa Schiaperelli, along with a well-known art critic, and sister/model/actress Marissa Berenson. Berry and Anthony produced two sons and remained married until Perkins' death from AIDS. It has never been established -- nor do we really need to know -- how he contracted this disease. Some years later, after son Oz (named for Perkins' father, Osgood) started making his mark as a supporting "geek " in movies such as "Legally Blonde," Berry died on September 11, 2001, a passenger on the American Airlines flight from Boston, which was the plane that hit the first (North) tower of the World Trade Center.

I cannot imagine this much tragedy affecting one family, and have always felt the need to express the sorrow I feel for them. I certainly don't know them, but I have a lot of empathy for them, as no one deserves this much sorrow. Well, okay, there are some that do deserve it, but from what I've read and researched, the Perkins/Berenson family did not.

I've been mulling this entry around for a while now, and would probably still be mulling it if not for the fact that I saw the Anthony Perkins-hosted "SNL" tonight. I guess I've been thinking about it since 9/11, when I learned that Berry Berenson was one of the victims. No media outlet really reported on the fullness of her life, and I felt she deserved that. She was truly a courageous woman.

The Greatest Kids in the World

2006-12-20T12:40:00.000-08:00

Those who know me well know that I usually prefer to spend time with adults over kids. I do not turn to mush when presented with a baby. When they are at an age when they can speak and be reasoned with, my attitude softens. Especially if they're nicely behaved. Call me a Grinch, call me what you will, but that's simply the way I am. Of course there are exceptions, but none so exceptional as the children of Katy and Scott.

Scott's my twin, but that's not the reason why their kids are so spectacular (well, maybe a teensy bit...). The simple fact of the matter is that Karl, Shannon and Mary Elizabeth have been raised properly, with a lot of love, a fair amount of discipline (more than most these days), and a lot of respect. They are well behaved and polite, but even the most well behaved kids can sometimes be...well, kids. However, a quick look or a word from one of their parents, and they toe the line. Immediately. They know what will and what will not be tolerated. (Heck, they even listen to me!)

Katy and Scott have also created an ideal environment for their children. They supervise homework, practicing of various music lessons, and so much more. Total involvement with the kids. All accomplished with a lot of love. Believe me, it shows.

The kids had their Winter Piano Recital a couple of weeks ago, and I was there with bells on. Third year in a row. That in itself should be an indicator of how special these kids (and their parents) are to me. Naturally, they were the most talented in the bunch, and I enjoyed hearing how their piano skills have improved. After helping their teacher (also a family friend) clean up, we all went out to dinner (thanks, Scott!). It should be no surprise after having read this far that all three kids were a pleasure to dine with, unlike so many of those horror shows you see when some families dine out in public. Now that the kids are getting older, it's possible for them to have overnight visits with trusted relatives and friends. Karl will be coming to my place soon, and I plan to take him for his first meal at The Cheesecake Factory (he loves cheesecake!), and then hang out, exploring other common interests, like trumpet playing. I have lots of music to introduce him to, and a DVD or two I'm sure he'd enjoy watching. We'll have a fine time, and I'm looking forward to it.

This family will never need the help of Jo "Supernanny" Frost. In fact, I bet she would learn a few things if she spent a few days with them. I know she'd be impressed.

Christmas Is Very Nearly Here

2006-12-20T12:04:00.000-08:00

One more day of work and I'm outta here until January 2. Yay. My brain was about to turn into mush. I need a break, if only to get motivated to store or throw out some of the crap that has built up in my life. I took a quick look at what I could see of the kitchen table and noticed that at least one of the piles is totally made up of catalogs and a few magazines. They're going out. The same goes for the front hallway table (I really don't need to keep those MRI films on the top, do I?), plus all the statements and other nonsense I continue to get from my brokerage account. I don't look at them, and I don't need to, so long as Uncle Bill is managing my nest egg. I'm going to have to bring in all those statements to the office and make use of the shredder, I guess. Normally, I tear sensitive-type mail up and place it in the same bag I use for cleaning the cat litter, and that seems to have stymied any wanna-be thieves, but this is months and months of accumulation. Grr.

There are also plenty of DVDs and CDs that need attention/filing, but those piles just seem to grow and grow. It's incredible to think that I have no space to properly store them (i.e., in a fashion that would permit me easy access).

This is starting to sound more like "my apartment is a freaking mess" rant than a "welcome, Christmas, Christmas Day" paeon. One more gift to purchase tonight, conveniently at Kohl's, which is next to my gym, where Ivy will be kicking my butt tonight. Then the wrapping frenzy, locked away from the cats, who are no help at all. Particularly Scraps, who loves to jump into the sheets of wrapping paper, destroying them in the process. I have not been able to buy bows for wrapped presents since going out on my own (in 1987!) and adopting the first cat who belonged to me and me alone, Frisco. He thought they were great chew toys and fun to bat around. After people tired of getting gifts with pre-chewed bows on top, complete with cat saliva, I gave up. Subsequent furry roommates, strangely enough, also shared Frisco's attitude towards bows. (Nowadays, if I should need one for a couple of the gifts going out to my family's gathering, I steal a few along the way while visiting my aunt. She pretends not to notice.) I'm beginning to think that my first cat, Miouki (shared with my mother) was a saint, as my mother always produced elaborately wrapped gifts, none with cat saliva or any other evidence of cat-assisted wrapping. Then again, Miouki might have attempted it once and been severely chastised, which would have prevented future misadventures. My mother was very fussy about her wrapping, so it would not surprise me in the least.

Speaking of cats and Christmas, this will be the fourth Christmas in a row without a tree. In 2003, Moochie and Scraps were less than a year old, so it was out of the question. In 2004, we had young Spunky Bastard, aptly named. No behavioral improvement has been noted since then, so no tree for us. I had considered giving it a shot this year, and right when that thought crossed my mind, I saw Spunky and Moochie sailing through the air, through the space in the banister, and continuing up the stairs. The tree would be placed near the bottom of the stairs. Um, no. Another treeless Christmas. Well, perhaps they will be mature enough next year. We can always hope.

"The Drowsy Chaperone"

2006-12-01T12:37:00.000-08:00

This is a laugh riot that received about five Tony awards this year, and if you have the opportunity, go see it. It's a "show within a show" with a terrific cast. I went in with an admitted bias towards Danny Burstein, who plays Alfonso, as he is good friends with friends of my own. (He was robbed at the Tonys!) In fact, we had the best seats in the house, thanks to Danny's influence, so it was a grand night. Georgia Engel ("Georgette" on the classic "Mary Tyler Moore" show!) was astonishingly good, as was Tony-winner Sutton Foster, who performed a knock-out song-and-dance number with a couple of amazing costume changes and even a few cartwheels. Truly, there was not a dud in the bunch. If you're a fan of wild farce, you'll love this show. Even if you're not separated by one degree from Alfonso.

On Joni Mitchell And Aging Gracefully

2006-11-21T08:08:00.000-08:00

I love it when movies and television make good use of classic music as a way to enhance or move their story. The wonderful "Love Actually" did that rather brilliantly (writer/director Richard Curtis spends a disproportionate amount of his time matching music to film, as meticulously as Cameron Crowe, who started his career as a music critic before becoming a filmmaker). One song in particular was Joni Mitchell's remake of her own "Both Sides Now." She originally wrote and recorded it for her second album, "Clouds," released in 1969. Most associate the song with Judy Collins, whose version was a chart-topper, but Mitchell reinterpreted it on her "Both Sides Now" CD in 2000, and it is gorgeous. It's from the perspective of an older, wiser woman who truly embodies the lyrics she sings, and it's stunning.

Mitchell's delivery of the lyrics alone is enough to make you weep, but when paired with poignant scenes, as it was in "Love Actually" and, recently, on the daytime drama "General Hospital," it can become a sobfest. I speak from experience.

What I find most ironic about my new appreciation for Joni Mitchell and others from her generation of singer/songwriters (James Taylor, Cat Stevens, CSNY, Carole King, etc.) is that during their heyday, when I was a pre-teen and then a teenager, I could barely stand them. I was tortured at summer camp, surrounded by cabin mates who not only played the aforementioned artists ad nauseum, but also had singalongs, accompanied by two of the campers who were actually decent acoustic guitar players. This did not mesh well with my favorites, KISS, Led Zep and the Stones. We battled constantly, and I usually lost.

Here's the irony: as an adult, I have attended several James Taylor concerts, adore Carole King (actually, I found her tolerable way back then, but would never have admitted it at camp), and have an appreciation for much of the music (except for one or two CSNY songs; they truly don't do it for me) of the other artists. Rod Stewart's recent remake of Stevens' "Father and Son" is lovely, as was the original. Do I still listen to Led Zep and the Stones? Absolutely. Even KISS, if I'm in a bizarre mood. However, I'm more likely to put on a Sarah McLaughlan or Sting CD these days.

I'd like to say I've matured, but I think I'm simply getting old.

No Rest For The Weary

2006-11-15T13:13:00.000-08:00

This past weekend, I had a wedding to attend in South Beach (Miami, FL). My dear neighbor (now former neighbor) Charlotte was marrying Sam, and it was an event I could not miss. Prices being what they are in South Beach, though, made me reluctant to spend the weekend there. Brainstorm! My good friend KellyB lives in Ft. Lauderdale, not that far away. Could I spend the weekend with KellyB and the Bs? Absolutely!

I arrived Friday night and KellyB met me at the airport. It was great to see her. We picked up her son, JT, dropped him home (where I met their adorable weiner dog, Woody), and went out to a French bistro, where we dined lavishly on escargots, rack of lamb, and chocolate mousse cake. In many ways, KellyB is my Doppelganger. We drove around the beach area afterwards, then headed back to her home. Hubby Michael was already asleep after his grueling evening of MBA courses.

Michael the ghost had to head to campus early for part two of the weekend's courses, so I missed him again. KellyB and I went out sightseeing. I realized it had been 30 years since I'd been in Ft. Lauderdale. Lots had changed. The Jolly Roger Motel off A1A was renamed and revamped. Another piece of my childhood gone. No matter. KellyB then took me to her favorite Greek restaurant, where we inhaled about a pound of garlic. She also made me try octopus, even though I remembered having done that once, and it's not something I'd order for myself. Everything else was wonderful, though, and I can see why she loves the place.

Back to the ranch for naps and for me to then get ready for the wedding. A car was coming for me at 6:15, so I reluctantly threw myself in the shower around 5 and started the dressing and makeup process, aided at the end by the talents of KellyB. When I came downstairs, Michael was home, and it was a delight to meet him. Nice guy, easy to talk to, and I can understand how the high school sweethearts fell for each other all those years ago, and are still a happy, loving couple. They have a great son, a great weiner dog, and a great life.

Unfortunately, a limo showed up for me about 15 minutes later. I was going to show up in South Beach in style. It was a scaled down limo (intermittent radio, no TV, empty bar), so I made a few calls on my cellphone and then arrived at the Tides Hotel.

Posh. Very posh. I immediately felt uncomfortable, but, fortunately, I saw two of the three people I knew (other than the bride and groom) right there in the lobby. We chatted, then Charlotte and Sam made their entrance. Wow. They looked glam, stunning, and happy as clams. The ceremony was held poolside, followed by a cocktail hour. I met two of their very good friends, Maryanne and Bart, and it turned out we had many things in common, so I enjoyed their company. To make things even better, the three of us were seated at our own table for dinner. Talk about serendipity!

The meal was lovely and the conversation even better. I will be keeping in touch with Maryanne and Bart. Good people. Charlotte and Sam took to the dance floor, still looking fabulous and absolutely perfect in the lovely setting, which was accompanied by a wonderful guitarist.

I was the first to leave, as my car showed up at 10:30, but that was fine. I was exhausted by the trip down and from running around Ft. Lauderdale. By the time I got back to KellyB's, she was half-zonked on the couch, so I threw on my jammies and watched some old episodes of "Roseanne" and "Designing Women" until sleep came.

Michael the ghost had already left for campus by the time I got up (and it was early for me, 9am on a Sunday!), so KellyB and I deserted JT and Woody and had breakfast at a local diner before I headed to the airport. It was sad to leave my friends, but we're planning more get togethers in the future and until then, there's always email and the phone. (Michael, by the way, is not a professional student but an actual professor at Nova, taking advantage of the educational opportunities outside his field that the university offers. Just so you know.)

Weather conditions in the Northeast delayed my trip home, but I was very happy to be greeted by my three insane cats, and happier still to climb into bed with them and the remote, catching up on purr time and on the shows I'd taped while I was away. It's nice to travel, but as Dorothy said, "There's no place like home." Well, except for Paris.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

2006-11-15T12:43:00.000-08:00

I forgot the promised update to the 90th birthday luncheon. Overall, it turned out okay, but the evil, rotten branch of the family (henceforth, GGG&J) managed to cause a few uncomfortable moments.

To refresh your memory, this was held the day after torrential rainstorms hit the tri-state area. Oh, good, thought I, GGG&J won't make it. Ha. Remember what I said about the allure of a free meal? Those bastards would have swum the Long Island Sound if need be.

The deal was that P and I would meet at the restaurant a half hour early to set up balloons, place settings, and so forth. M (already at my grandmother's house) was tasked with getting her there. My "aunt" J and I arrived at the restaurant early, as we'd left plenty of time to deal with potential bad traffic, slippery leaves, and so forth. After parking, I grabbed her arm and hissed, "DUCK! The bastards are here!" We hid behind a red van and I pointed out the car filled with evil GGG&J. They were 45 minutes early. No doubt they thought there would be a complimentary bar they could cozy up to. Ha. Took care of that option, as in there was none. Since half of the evil group were geriatric, it took them a while to sleaze their way to the restaurant. I was furiously dialing P on my cellphone. "They're here." "Who?" "The bastards." "NO!" "Fuck, yes, and J and I are hiding behind a red van in the parking lot." After hilarity ensued, P and N pulled into the lot, and J and I scampered over to their car. N was a bit snarly, but who could blame him? We picked up all the balloons and stuff and made our way to the restaurant, past GGG&J, who were lurking outside the (surprise) bar.

Since my name was on all the paperwork, Herman, our headwaiter, presumed I was in charge. He asked me about refilling the wine carafes should they beome empty, and we agreed he would check with me first. I indicated the group of lowlifes and said, "They're the reason we're being careful about the drinking, and look who showed up early!" The four of us set up the balloons and the place cards, and then the leeches decided to join us. Grrr. I did my best to snub them. G, my grandmother's twit of a sister, kept going on and on about how she was up all night worrying about the weather. She thought of calling to see if the party had been cancelled. I looked her straight in the cataract and said, "Non-refundable deposit. Party going on as scheduled." Naturally, one of them went straight over to the table where the beverages were set up and took one of the carafes of red wine down to their end of the table. Ha, thought I, don't drink it so fast, losers. Fortunately, the invited guests started trickling in, so it was easier to snub the undesirables.

We expected the birthday girl to show up at 2:15, the appointed time for her arrival. Since M was in charge of getting her there, that was a bit foolish. Really foolish. They got there around 2:45. Herman had already taken the food orders. However, my grandmother was pleasantly surprised by the gathering, and that's really all that matters. (She did complain to me later that she'd been seated next to her sister, but I said, "Hey, she's YOUR sister. Too bad!")

The service and the food were both very good, and things passed along peacefully. My cousin M (normally my partner in family dinner crime, but I was instructed to behave as I was a co-host) tried to start me up by making airplanes out of the place cards, but I didn't cave. (I have Thanksgiving dinner coming up, where M and I normally are up to no good, usually shooting rubber bands and throwing peas at the other guests, so I kept that in mind.) Naturally, that carafe of red wine down by GGG&J emptied out, and they actually came down to our end and took the dregs that remained in ours. Not much damage was done to the carafes of white wine, which I would take as a sign if I ever planned to have this group together again, but since I do not, I don't much care.

A beautiful carrot cake was brought out for the birthday girl, which pleased her no end. Unfortunately, no one had remembered to bring a camera (well, M did, but his girlfriend, A, had stolen a battery out of it, so it was a moot point). That was a shame, but we finished the meal without incident and without photographs.

Here's the punch line: nowhere among the pile of cards and gifts brought for my grandmother was there anything at all from GGG&J. Not so much as a card. Freeloading bastards. Well, I consoled myself with the fact that I will never have to see them again. P reminded me about future family funerals, and I said, "I'm not going." I also consoled myself later with a massage administered by Jennifer of the Magic Hands, a bottle of good red wine, and pleasant thoughts of funerals (specifically, those for GGG&J) I would not be attending.

We Showed Them!

2006-11-09T11:48:00.000-08:00

Every single vote counts. This was certainly proved on Tuesday, Election Day, which saw the Democrats take over both the House and Senate. The Senate status wasn't determined until today because the last two races being tallied were close. Darn close. Nevertheless, in Virginia, Webb beat "Macaca" Allen, which gave me great pleasure. In Missouri, I think some credit must be given to Michael J. Fox's stem cell research ads, which helped his candidate beat the Neanderthal incumbent. (Incidentally, I understand that the St. Louis Cardinals' ace pitcher filmed a rebuttal commercial against stem cell research, which ran during the World Series. Though he's a good pitcher, I hope my beloved Yankees don't try to buy this player, as -- like Curt Schilling - his views are contrary to those of people searching for advancement in medical research and cures for disease.)

At any rate, I was also impressed while watching my tape of "The View" yesterday, where the mostly-Democratic panelists were trying not to crow too viciously, as the youngest panelist, Elisabeth Hasselbeck, is a conservative Republican. For once, I say kudos to Elisabeth, who kept her mouth shut about the election results in general but gave props to Nancy Pelosi and her ascension to Speaker of the House, which she called a big win/step for women, rightly so. Like her or not, Pelosi is now the most powerful woman in the country, second in line to the presidency (after the vice president).

I think those of us who voted clearly showed the current administration how pissed off we are about the situation in Iraq. To his credit, Bush finally fired Defense Secretary Rumsfeld in response to the nation's dissatisfaction. A few more heads must roll, and a clear exit from Iraq must be determined before we're on our way to being satisfied. How many more Americans must die in someone else's civil war before we wise up and get the hell out? How much must our worldwide approval rating decrease before we start earning back the respect we should have maintained all along? There are a lot of things that need fixing, but the message has finally been delivered. Let's hope it works.

Why Blood Relatives Suck Blood (With Some Exceptions)

2006-10-26T12:30:00.000-07:00

You know, my closest relative, P, has a very wise saying: no good deed goes unpunished. We found that out firsthand recently while planning a 90th birthday luncheon for her mother/my grandmother. (Yes, P is technically my aunt, but we're only seven years apart and closer than most sisters.) And before I go on with this post and break my rule about not writing negative things about people who might see them, let me just say that the dumb stumps that will be referenced here are too stupid to even know what a blog is, so no worries. Anyway, at this point I'm so pissed at them, that not only do I not care, I might even send them the link to this. Not that they'd be able to figure it out. But I digress.

We have often had our larger family gatherings at P's house. She has a good amount of entertaining space and actually enjoys entertaining...for appreciative guests. However, we decided to do this party at a restaurant because of a few things. The guest list for a 90th birthday celebration is, naturally, a bit smaller than for other ones. P and I are busy. The third person "hosting" the soiree just married off her daughter and lives in another state, so we knew that we couldn't count on her help. P and I are busy. P and I are tired. All we wanted to do was have a nice luncheon for a special lady who deserved a bit of a showcase. We basically didn't do much for her 85th because my grandfather had died earlier in the year, and then 9/11 (from which P's husband escaped) happened, scant weeks before my grandmother's birthday. No one was really into it, so we took my grandmother out for several nice lunches and dinners and kept it low key.

I took charge because...well, I could. After consulting the others on the pared-down guest list (about 18 total), I went to the restaurant, selected the menu, chose some colors and made the deposit. We had about a week before we had to give a total headcount and pay the balance due. P and M only had to notify a couple of people as to the date and time of the party, and I set out to make the remaining calls.

Naturally, the non-blood relatives were gracious, and pleased to be included. So was my second cousin, C, and her dad. Then I called my grandmother's sister. That was my first mistake, but how can you leave out one of two remaining siblings? We even chose the place and time of day to accommodate this family branch, who would be coming from the city. Bent over backwards. And then the bastards started fucking with the guest list.

"Oh, did you invite so-and-so?" "Uh, no, we're trying to keep it small." "Oh, he's always talking about family." Really? That's nice. Does he ever call said family? No. But, hey, a free meal's a free meal! "Well, we're having it at a nice restaurant, so we're trying to keep it small. Besides, he doesn't like to travel between states." "Oh. Well, he's always talking about family." Yeah, well, I'm always talking about James Bond, but that doesn't mean I'll be sipping from his martini glass anytime soon. Good for him. "We look forward to seeing you and Uncle G there." Click.

Fortunately for me, this rotten family branch does not have my phone number. Unfortunately for P, they have hers. The next day, she received a call from sister of so-and-so, who lives in Florida (and, therefore, was not on the guest list). Begging, pleading, cajoling P to include poor so-and-so on the guest list. P held her at bay. Called me. I said, "Fuck 'em all. Bastards." She called M. M was a little sentimental, which I whacked right out of her via email. However, considering how this branch of bastards was fully capable of ruining the birthday girl's surprise, P and M decided we should cave.

On her way to a family wedding that I did not attend, P called so-and-so to invite him and his wife to the birthday party. Afterwards, he called her cellphone, which went into voice mail as she was on a plane, and informed her that his 19 year old son (whom we haven't seen in more than ten years) would be coming. No, no, no. Not only was that not cool, but it placed us over the number of people allowed in the room we'd booked. P, being of sound and intelligent mind, called me to commisserate. I flew off the handle, screaming curses and oaths not heard outside places such as Yankee Stadium and Fenway Park. So, it was decided that P would call so-and-so's wife and rationally explain to her that there was no fucking way her absentee son would be joining the party. Reason worked on the wife, who is a notch above the festering family branch she foolishly married into, and the kid will not be coming.

Now the guest list is firmly set at 20. I call the restaurant, put the balance on P's credit card, and waited for the other shoe to drop. I didn't have to wait long. Turns out the Florida branch accosted M at the family wedding, demanding to know why they were not invited. Well, okay, HUSBAND of Florida branch (which we once liked, somewhat), but still. You live in FLORIDA. OUT OF STATE. DOUBTED YOU'D COME. KEEPING LIST SMALL. Husband was pulled off M, who did not go near either one of them for the rest of the wedding.

As I write this, weather reports predict heavy rains starting Friday and extending into Saturday. The luncheon is at 2 on Saturday. My hairdresser has gone AWOL and I will have to try to make my coif look decent on a horribly rainy day. Naturally, we consider that the rotten, decrepit, classless family branch will cancel last minute and, simultaneously, ruin the surprise for my grandmother because that's the sort of lowlifes they are. (It will not surprise you that at the post-funeral lunch ten years ago for second cousin C's mother, these losers snuck out with half-drunk bottles of wine. Knowing that, it will not surprise you that we will not be having an open bar at THIS luncheon, but a limited amount of carafes of wine.) P has a couple of backups to fill their seats if necessary, but we've paid for 20 meals and would get somewhat screwed if the losers bail. Amazingly, we're all fine with that. For once, P, M and I agree that we'd rather pay for meals that get sent to my grandmother's freezer instead of seeing these leeches.

I'm sure I'll have quite an update for this blog after Saturday. I already have an in-home massage booked for that evening and a bottle of wine with my name on it.

It must be noted that the non-blood relatives who are graciously attending this soiree have spent more time with my grandmother than the bloodsucking leeches. And that is why I titled this "Why Blood Relatives Suck Blood (With Some Exceptions)." A wise person once said that your family is the circle of close friends and relatives that you select for yourself. Whomever that was, I'd like to buy them a bottle of wine, hug them hard, and wish them a hearty "A votre sante!"

Rosie Rocks "The View"

2006-10-25T09:48:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I only watch "Hot Topics," but I do enjoy "The View" with Rosie O'Donnell as one of the panelists. I notice Barbara Walters cringing more often than before, but the show is livlier and a bit more fun these days. Admittedly, it's hard for the others to get a word in edgewise with the verbose O'Donnell, who often outshouts the others, but, as a compromise, Rosie has suggested extending "Hot Topics" from two to three segments per show. I think that's a great idea, especially if they're discussing a truly hot topic. They are often more entertaining than the guests!

Having said that, I think they have all the panelists they need on the show, but if they must bring on a fifth member, my vote goes to Shon Gables, former local (NYC) newswoman and radio personality, who more than held her own with the ladies a few weeks ago. Gayle King's name has been mentioned, but I think she's busy with the O magazine, not to mention the satellite radio show, "Oprah and Friends."

I just hope Rosie will stop insisting on using a mug her kids made for her and conform with the other ladies after this month is over (they're all using special "View" mugs to mark Breast Cancer Awareness Month). She has gotten her own way with changes such as daily audience gifts, confetti, and other things. Let's refrain from being different just because we can.

Rush Limbaugh, For Want of a Better Word, Sucks

2006-10-25T09:20:00.000-07:00

It's been nearly a year since I've updated this blog, and I'm sorry I've neglected it. A few things have happened in these months that have almost drawn me back, but as they were mostly related to people (or events) that could be recognized easily by those concerned, I chose not to. However, that idiot Rush Limbaugh (shouldn't he be in jail for his prescription drug offenses?) and his comments about Michael J. Fox make me want to go on a Julia Sugarbaker rant (and if you don't recognize that reference, shame on you!).

Yes, I'm getting fired up. Fox, a Parkinson's Disease sufferer and stem cell research advocate, had the "nerve" to film some political commercials in support of candidates who also back stem cell research. If there is to be a cure in his lifetime -- or at all -- it will likely come from such research.

Limbaugh, the (former?) prescription painkiller popper, suggested that Fox was either off his meds or acting during the filming of these ads. It is painfully clear that Fox is shaking as he makes his pitch, which is one of the many horrible effects of Parkinson's.

Would Limbaugh have preferred that Fox's tremors were due to coming down off a Oxycodone or Percocet high? (Sorry, I don't recall which painkiller Limbaugh preferred.) I don't listen to this bombastic blowhard, but I do wonder if he takes it easier on people with substance abuse problems due to his own experiences and stints in rehab. Probably not Democrats.

I'd call him a pig, but that would be an insult to pigs.

Michael J. Fox is a family man, a beloved and talented actor, a man of conscience, and a man of bravery. Can the same be said of Limbaugh?

I feel a lot better now. This blog will no longer remain dormant!

The 2006 Grammy Awards

2006-02-09T08:51:00.000-08:00

Well, it was definitely U2's night, but I felt bad for Mariah Carey. True, she broke her 16-year Grammy drought, but all in the non-televised pre-show, only in the R&B category, and not in any of the major categories in which she was nominated. Plus, the Academy dissed her by letting Madonna (nominated for zero Grammys) open the show. Then her stylist must have been annoyed with her, as she put her in a knock-out gown which was largely covered by Mariah's unruly and in-need-of-a-trim-or-style-hair. But, damn, she sounded good.

It was also mainly about the music, which was great (and something I've been complaining about regarding the Oscar ceremonies). CELEBRATE YOUR INDUSTRY! Some of the musical pairings were dynamite, others less so. I was saddened to see that Sly Stone appears to be funk's version of Brian Wilson, but pumped up by the performances of his classic songs. (I later dove into my CD collection to retrieve his 'Greatest Hits" for my car stereo.) Faith Hill and Keith Urban were great. The mash-up between Jay-Z, Linkin Park, and (surprise) Paul McCartney was terrific. Herbie Hancock and Christina Aguilera reminded me of how much I love Leon Russell. Solo Paul McCartney reminded me how I prefer his older music to his latest CD, and I don't mean his music dating back to "Helter Skelter" -- a great song -- but some of his recent CDs ("Flaming Pie," "Run Devil Run") were, in my opinion, far better than the one nominated last night. I also question the choice of "Helter Skelter" for Paul to rock out on. Lyrically, it's not one of the best he could have pulled out of his massive catalog. I guess he's tired of playing "Live And Let Die," but I might have chosen "Lucille," "Get Back," "Coming Up," "Drive My Car," or any number of ravers. (And, no, I don't believe he should refrain from playing "Helter Skelter" in the Los Angeles area due to past association between that song and a series of sick murders in the late '60s -- that would be taking political correctness to a crazy extreme.)

U2 was, as always, great, and so was Mary J. Blige. I am about to go buy the John Legend CD; he reminds me of a young Marvin Gaye, back when he would accompany himself on piano. Classy guy, and very talented. On the other end of the spectrum, I am now totally confused as to why Coldplay is "all that." Um, EWWW? And who told the scruffy, skinny, non-charismatic guy with weird hand tattoos and adornments that he was Bono? I was hoping that security would knock him back onto the stage. Gwyneth Paltrow married THAT? Has birthed his child and is pregnant with a second one? Will they name this one "Pear?" No accounting for taste, I suppose, but there will not be anything from Coldplay joining my collection.

I was disappointed, too, that the Legendary and Trustee's Awards were given out so quickly. Perhaps they could have cut Coldplay's performance back a little and devoted a few minutes to each honoree, without their music drowning out the inductor's speech. Also disappointed that the New Orleans tribute petered out with sponsor's ads covering the last moments of the performance. The NARAS president's long and overblown speech leading up to that tribute could have been trimmed (or covered with sponsor's ads) for all the interest it held compared to the performance by such greats as Allen Toussaint, Dr. John, Irma Thomas, Elvis Costello, Bonnie Raitt, The Edge, and others.

Last year's performance by Melissa Etheridge and Joss Stone remains number one on my list of all-time great Grammy moments. This year had some good stuff (Sly Stone tribute, Jay-Z/Linkin Park/Paul McCartney), but Melissa and Joss set the standard. It has not yet been touched.

When I saw Springsteen take the stage with his acoustic guitar and harmonica rig, I knew it was a good time for a bathroom break. Thanks, Boss!

A Very Cool Thing

2005-11-22T12:12:00.000-08:00

Last Tuesday night, around 7:15, my phone rang. It was my aunt, P. "Guess where I am!" I had absolutely no clue. "Madison Square Garden -- Ned got us tickets to the CMAs! We've already been to one of the pre-show parties!"

Now, remember, this is the first time that the CMAs (Country Music Awards) have been held in NYC. For an obscene amount of money, the public could buy packages that got them great tickets for the show, the pre-party, AND a lavish post-party at the Marriott Hotel, with a special performance by Wynonna! As it turns out, New Yorkers are one of the largest purchasers of country music, in the top three or five nationwide (yet NYC has no country music station...go figure), so it kinda made sense to have the show in town. The city did its part, as did local television networks, promoting the event and the music. The musicians played concerts all over the city, and Garth Brooks and fiancee Trisha Yearwood performed for free in Times Square. (Remember, Garth's Central Park concert was the biggest one ever held there!)

Well, P and Ned had a fantastic evening. The show (some of which I watched) was great and the parties were fabulous. Now Ned wants to do things like this more often, and P suggest that he get a ticket for me in the future, as I'd be able to point out most of the celebrities. Fine by me! (I even figured out who one of the country singers P didn't recognize by her description over the phone...Lorrie Morgan. Guess that cemented that thought!)

My friend Katy has been trying to get me to listen to more country music, and between her efforts, Oprah's, and P and Ned's, it's been happening. Some years ago, I proudly announced to Katy that I'd bought a Trisha Yearwood CD. I'd heard her (and also Wynonna) on a "Tribute to West Side Story" CD, and was blown away by their beautiful voices. Last year, I saw Wynonna on Oprah, and was moved to tears by her rendition of "I Want To Know What Love Is," which, in my opinion, now belongs to her, not Foreigner. Not only did I buy her new CD, I went to see her in concert! And I bought her new CD and DVD last month. Then just a few weeks ago, I went with P and Ned and a bunch of friends to Delaware for the 20th annual Punkin' Chunkin' competition. As a special treat (and a fundraiser for St. Jude's Children's Hospital), The Charlie Daniels Band performed on the first night of the competition. I went in there knowing only one song ("The Devil Went Down To Georgia") and walked out a fan. Charlie Daniels kicks butt. So does his band. (Full disclosure: I now have a wicked crush on his amazingly talented drummer, Pat Mc Donald, and lead guitarist Chris Wormer...great musicians and VERY cute!) I now have a Charlie Daniels CD and the DVD they recently released of a concert this past July 4th in Nashville.

While I will probably never be a fan of traditional country music, I am certainly liking the more contemporary stuff. You may soon be able to call me an Urban Cowgirl! But, please...don't ask me to explain Punkin' Chunkin' to you. It's a whole 'nother world.

December 8 (and other stuff that pisses me off)

2005-11-21T12:56:00.000-08:00

Giving Media Coverage To Total Asswipes
December 8th marks the 25th year (I refuse to call it an anniversary) since John Lennon's murder. The NBC network has decided to devote one of its newsmagazine's hour of power to the loser who pulled the trigger (and has been running promos for a couple of weeks). Yoko Ono is reportedly pissed off, too, and I don't blame her a bit. Why glorify Lennon's murderer? That's one of the reasons why he shot Lennon in the first place, and why, like so many who kill to feed their tiny little egos, he's in "protective custody" in prison -- because of other idiots who would feed off the fame of being the one who killed him (or Charles Manson, or any of the other notorious prisoners who really belong on Death Row). Yes, it's a vicious cycle for predators. Why would NBC do this? Ratings, of course. It's sweeps month, and ad rates can rise or fall depending on the network's performance. Personally, I hope this show (and others like it) tanks and takes everyone involved in its production down with it. NBC, you suck.

Wrongly Comparing People to Other People
Now don't go thinking I'm a total Lennonhead (Paul is actually my favorite Beatle), but I also get pissed off when I hear Nirvana's Kurt Cobain called "the John Lennon of his generation." Exqueeze me? Baking powder? Cobain didn't have the amount of talent, nor the body of work, that Lennon had in his little fingernail. Are we supposed to revere this "tortured artist" because he took the coward's way out and blew out his supposed brains? Compare him to Lennon? No way. One hit song, a few albums, numerous overdoses, a notorious wife and a "tragic death" does not place Cobain anywhere in Lennon's league. Plus, it's a disservice to whomever truly is that generation's Lennon. Not that one exists.

New Orleans
How much more suffering must these people endure? I just read Time magazine's cover story, which details the slowness and frustration of the city's rebuilding efforts and the effects on those who lost their homes (and much more) due to Hurricane Katrina. FEMA is cutting off hotel room benefits as of December 1 (indirectly choosing World AIDS Day; how appropriate for this unfeeling administration, which probably forgot all about that); insurance benefits are arriving late, if at all; and the government is balking at further financial aid. Yet, let there be an earthquake in Pakistan, and we're among the first to send money and other assistance. What's wrong with this equation? I have nothing against helping other countries, but when we are (supposedly) dealing with quite possibly THE worst natural disaster in our nation's history, charity begins at home. A few countries sent aid to the Gulf State area, which was nice, but the assistance the U.S. received was in no way comparable to what we dole out, all around the world, on a constant basis. My heart breaks for everyone who is trying to crawl out of the rubble created by the hurricanes, not just in New Orleans, but every part of this country that was affected. New Orleans has become the symbol of all that went wrong before and after the hurricanes. It is also one of my favorite places on this earth. I hope that the media will not let this story go.

There's plenty more out there that pisses me off (speaking of which, Happy Thanksgiving), but I've spewed enough venom in this post!

My Sweet Remington Steele

2005-10-30T20:53:00.000-08:00

With all the Bond posts I've put up, you probably think this is about one of Pierce Brosnan's early starring roles. Nope. From 1999 to 2003, I had a gorgeous Russian Blue cat who was dubbed "Remington Steele" by the folks at North Shore Animal League, where we found each other. You see, his fur was a beautiful gray/blue/steel color, hence the name. And it suited him, so I kept it.

He wasn't the first kitty I looked at when I went to adopt. My beautiful Tuxedo, Frisco, had passed away around Christmas 1998, so a few months later, I decided that my Murphy Brown, a Calico with attitude, and I, needed a third roommate. My friend, Deb, came with me to peruse the available kitties at North Shore.

Most kittens were only adoptable in pairs, which makes sense, but not when you're adding to a household that already contains a seven-year-old cat. I kept looking, but didn't see any possibilities, until Deb dragged me over to one of the bottom cages and said, "Look at him."

There he was, Remington Steele, a slightly older, mature cat, with intelligent eyes and an old soul. Little did I know how old his soul was; the folks at North Shore pegged his age at six -- my vet looked at some details of his eyes the next day and said he was more like nine. Whatever. He was mine.

Remington eventually won over Murphy Brown, and we were a happy household for most of the time. He had been very well taken care of -- my vet said it was obvious that he'd had some dental procedures, and his front paws were declawed. I suspect he belonged to an elderly person who either passed away, or accidentally let him out. The North Shore people said he was found, half starved, in a garbage can somewhere (they can't tell you where), so I don't think his homelessness was anything more than accidental.

Remington was pure love. He quickly regained the weight he had lost (and, sadly, a little more than he should have, I guess) under my benevolent care. He and Murph came to love one another. And it was Remington who told me that Murphy had passed away, early one October morning in 2000. It was a Saturday, and I was attempting to sleep in, but Remington kept running in and out of the bedroom. After some time, I realized he was troubled about something. I found Murphy behind the living room recliner. She'd passed away during the night. All I could think was that I was so happy that when I'd arrived home before that, and was sitting down to take off my shoes, I petted them both simultaneously, not one at a time, as I normally did. So her last memories of me were loving ones. (A minor point, but it seemed significant then and now.)

As I said, this happened in October 2000. I did want to get another furry companion for Remy and myself, but wasn't going to rush into anything. As it turned out, that was a good thing. My grandfather passed away in April 2001, and two months later, Remy was diagnosed as diabetic.

Not only did I have to deal with the trauma of losing my grandfather, who was more of a father figure to me, but I then had to learn how to live with a diabetic cat. It wasn't easy. After a few months of taking the easy way out with pills, my vet, Dr. Luger, informed me that I HAD to give him insulin injections. "I can't!" I cried. "You HAVE to," said Dr. Luger, and I dutifully went to injection school.

With this type of diabetes, you have to give injections once every 12 hours. You have an hour-and-a-half window in front of and in back of this 12 hour time, which helps, but I was basically a prisoner of insulin for two years. When I went away on business, my employer would pay for his medical boarding, at about $45/night. I couldn't do that very often, so my time away from Remy was infrequent. I would spend a rare weekend away, but that was it. We lived like this for nearly two years.

His last Thanksgiving weekend (2002) was spent at the vet's. With the exception of Thanksgiving Day, I spent much of the remaining weekend at his side, at the cat hospital, having thoughtfully brought bagels and other breakfast treats to the hospital staff daily. He pulled through this crisis, but I then had to learn how to give him a daily IV drip with added potassium. He was a trouper. Not to blow my own horn, but so was I. I loved him so much that I did whatever was necessary to keep him alive (though I did remind the vet that I would not do it past the time it became painful or uncomfortable for Remy -- my need for Remy was secondary to his suffering).

We entered the next year with hope, as he had gotten through the crisis at Thanksgiving. I then had to go to a business convention in New Orleans in mid-March 2003. Remy was boarded at the vet's. The morning of the last day of the convention, Dr. Luger called me and said that Remy wasn't doing well. I said to do whatever's necessary, and I'd be home earlier than scheduled. I also would be calling in via cell phone. Then, I informed my bosses that I would not be at the convention that day, as I had to wait to hear about Remy's condition, but I would meet them later for a scheduled business dinner.

Remy pulled through, but that was nearly it. On the evening of March 25, I noticed a strange growth under his chin. I consulted with some friends who had had diabetic cats, and they cautioned me about that. Looking at him closely, I could tell it wasn't good. I decided to spend one last night with my boy, and then have him humanely put down, in my presence. I spent the night calling him into the bedroom -- and he would come bounding in whenever he heard my call. I think he was trying to spare me. I spent most of the night awake, holding and loving him. At one point, around 6am or so, I heard our neighbors, Geri and Jim, who also loved Remy, leaving their apartment for work. I came out to the hallway, told them what was happening, and let them have one last cuddle with Remy. I think that was a good thing for all of us. Then, I took Remy to our vet.

Dr. Tuzio, who is Dr. Luger's second in command, and a fantastic veterinarian, was the one to put him down. I teased the vet techs, who I'd come to know very well during Remy's illness, that the one assisting would be the one who lost the coin toss, but it ended up being Kelly, who had been so helpful and compassionate -- as were all the staff -- throughout. Remy "went to sleep" hearing me tell him how much he was loved, in my arms, with me not even caring when his bladder released on me. Remy was at peace, and that was all that mattered

Kelly told me that, even though it was much too early to even consider it, the director of Animal Haven had literally just rescued a litter of newborn kittens, and perhaps I might want a couple of them. I told her I'd get back to her in a couple of days, but that right now, all I wanted to do was go home and get drunk. She understood, and told me that I would not have to jump through any hoops for these kittens, that the hospital would vouch for my character and whatever else is needed for cat mothering! I slunk out of there, determined to kill many brain cells. And, oh, did I ever. In fact, I don't even remember the number of times I called my Aunt Patricia, babbling on and on. Plus, it was my Uncle Neil's birthday, and I'm sure my repeated, barely coherent, phone calls made it that much better. (Sorry, Neil!)

Well. I got through Remy's passing with the promise of two kittens joining me in less that two months. It seemed like forever. I barely slept, as this was my first cat-less sleeping time in years. But May 16, 2003 brought new joy to my life. However, that's ANOTHER entry!

Hurricanes, Global Warming and Leonardo DiCaprio

2005-10-28T11:04:00.000-07:00

This has been the busiest Atlantic hurricane season since the 1930s (I think the precise year is 1933). Yesterday's "Oprah" focused on global warming. Her guests, actor/environmental activist Leonardo DiCaprio and Princeton professor Dr. Oppenheimer, provided several scary facts about how we in the U.S., who make up five percent of the world's population, produce 25 percent of carbon dioxide emissions, which contribute to global warming. Dr. Oppenheimer said that in the course of the last thousand or so years, the most dramatic change/activity in the earth's temperature has taken place in the last fifty years. Hmm. Any connection between the last busy Atlantic hurricane system and the current one? A difference of 72 years or so? The show served as a wake-up call, even for someone like me, who has (until now) been only semi-concerned at best with recycling and the environment. (Combined with the personal experiences of some friends and relatives who have suffered mightily at the hands of Hurricanes Katrina and Wilma, what I learned yesterday has made me decide to make a few changes, all on behalf of the environment.)

Like Oprah, I'm not going to run out and buy a hybrid automobile, but there are some other steps I can and will take. Replacing regular light bulbs with fluorescent bulbs is the first (I already replaced my outdoor light with the more eco-friendly version). Eschewing styrofoam products is next. I already get double use out of supermarket plastic bags (ideal for disposing of used cat litter), so I'm not going to bring my own to market, but there were other ideas presented, some practical, some less so (unless you have a huge income and can afford to build an eco-friendly home). More do-able are things like bringing a garment bag to the drycleaners and having your cleaned items placed in that, rather than in plastic bags. Using toilet paper made from recycled paper (not for the sensitive!). Unplugging electric plugs when not using the appliance in question (unless it has a clock or other settings that need juice), as they suck up energy even when not in use. One item in particular: your cell phone charger. Yep, mine is still plugged in even as I write this, but I'll unplug it when I get home. Computers? When you're not on 'em, unpl

Okay, let's not get too crazy...but if everyone replaced the five most used lightbulbs in their home with the fluorescent type, the energy savings -- and subsequent ecological damage -- is significant. You can get the actual numbers at Oprah.com. Pretty amazing...not to mention scary.

James Blonde?

2005-10-26T12:50:00.000-07:00

Okay, I know it's been way too long since I've posted here, but I've been kinda busy. However, earthshattering news tends to make me examine my priorities, and something just happened that I MUST write about. The role of James Bond has been recast with a not very well-known actor (outside the UK, anyway) named Daniel Craig. And he's BLONDE!

I have nothing against blondes, mind you, even though I do enjoy the jokes. There are some long standing traditions that you do NOT mess with, though. Even though Roger Moore's hair sometimes seemed more light brown than not, every single Bond has been played by a dark-haired bloke.

A recast of this magnitude is dodgy enough without breaking with certain aspects of the character. For instance, one name bandied about as a new Bond was that of Rupert Everett, a guy quite right for the part in most instances. Except one. And he said it himself: "Well, you KNOW why they won't offer it to me!" Others in the running had much in common, from Clive Owen to Eric Bana, Ewan McGregor to (eww) Jude Law, Hugh Jackman to (eww, again) Colin Firth. All suave brunets with lovely accents and a physique to match (except for the "eww"s). In order, my choices would have been Clive Owen, Ewan McGregor, even Christian Bale. In the end, I was totally disappointed.

Will I go to see "Casino Royale?" Undoubtedly. There ARE a few things going for the movie. Its director, Martin Campbell, previously directed Pierce Brosnan's Bond debut, "Goldeneye." He also helmed Antonio Banderas' "Zorro" flicks. And Paul Haggis ("Million Dollar Baby," "Crush") is either writing the screenplay or consulting on it. Then something else flashed by me as I was reading an article on "gambling on celebrities" -- you know, what will Jennifer Garner have, a girl or a boy? Is Beyonce going to marry Jay-Z? There was also a list of likely Bond girls for "Casino Royale," and number one was Angelina Jolie, with odds of 11-8. Now THAT would make a lot of sense, and draw more doubting Bond fans like myself to the theater. Jolie would be fantastic. Cast a relative unknown as Bond and compensate by adding a superstar as Vesper Lynd, the female lead. Okay, EON Productions, I might even forgive you for not re-signing Pierce Brosnan...well, maybe. This tactic, however, would correct some very big sins.

Friends at GHFCW

2005-08-10T12:50:00.000-07:00

Friends at GHFCW
Originally uploaded by Hopster1.

Here's a sneak peek at some of my General Hospital Fan Club Weekend coverage -- read Parts I-III at www.eyeonsoaps.com, under Continued Recaps!

The Weight of the World

2005-06-02T19:02:00.000-07:00

That's actually the title of a song on one of Ringo Starr best CDs, "Time Takes Time," one which was personally autographed for me, back in the day when I actually was treated to things like superstar concerts, backstage meet-and-greets, etc. I'm thinking of the title in regards to life itself, though.
I just got finished watching "Hit Me Baby One More Time," another American ripoff of a British tv show, in which bands/performers of the 1980s perform first their big hit, then a version of a current hit.
Let me tell you, it made me feel GREAT. Not because of the nostalgia aspect (the first show included Loverboy, CeCe Peniston, A Flock of Seagulls, Arrested Development, and Tiffany), but because it seemed like EVERYBODY had gained weight. No fooling. And the guy from Flock of Seagulls, who had that wild hair...well, he was wearing a baseball cap with a long ponytail hanging out the back.
What a breath of fresh air. In these times, when everybody is so weight-conscious, it felt good to see real people up on stage. Not perfect, real.
My 25th high school reunion is on the weekend of June 11, and it was with no small regret that I realized it was just before a business trip. Yes, I could conceivably make it, but I have a rule that time prior to business trips is spent with as less stress as possible.
Last year, a dear friend (who went to my high school, graduating a year before me) went to her 25th reunion. I said, geez, I don't want to go to mine, I need time to get in shape, etc. She told me it was the best time she'd had in a while, and the only people in great shape were the gay guys (isn't that the truth?). No one cared. It was all about seeing each other.
I spoke to another dear friend last year (or thereabouts) who was student government president to my vice president. He also assured me that we would look fine the way we are. I'll be calling him this week to apologize for chickening out on our reunion.
The more I speak to people who have mattered in my life, the more I have come to realize that it is the PERSON you want to see. Who gives a sh*t about their appearance? Or your own? What matters is that you are happy and, hopefully, healthy. You are still the same person, no matter what you may think conceals that soul.
Tomorrow night, I am going to Flushing Town Hall, where I will be seeing an old friend perform. He was in the graduating class before mine and has made a great life as a husband, father, performer and instructor. Ray Vega was one of the finest trumpeters I ever have known (and performed with -- in high school!), and I am so happy that I will be seeing him, on stage and off. I plan to visit him afterwards, and look forward to one of his enveloping hugs. It's been many years, but I do remenber those hugs. And I don't care how much of our respective stomachs (mine's probably bigger) come between us...because they WON'T. And that's the truth.

Boy, How Times Have Changed

2005-05-03T11:19:00.000-07:00

Some friends and I were reminiscing recently about "how we spent our summer vacations." I was one of the so-called "lucky ones," because I went to sleepaway camp. I suppose there are worse ways to spend a summer, but at the time, I couldn't think of any.

I first went to camp when I was 10 years old. It was located at Upper Baker Pond in Orford, NH, and was kind of free-style in that activities were neither enforced nor rigidly scheduled. As a child of the '60s (not a teenager, an actual child), that had a certain appeal. I actually enjoyed that camp, and happily returned the next summer. Then the bottom fell out, the camp closed (later to reopen as camping grounds), and I was compelled (read: forced) to go to a rival camp, on the same pond, but with many differences.

The first difference was the price. Camp #1 was about $700 for the summer, maybe less. The facilities were not grand, but we had electricity, toilets and showers in the cabins. A lot of the older boys helped out with maintenance, and I'll never forget how we had something akin to an old-fashioned barn-raising, when the senior guys and counselors constructed a covered pavilion used for basketball and for dances (yes, it was wired for electricity, so we had lights and sound). Older campers were assigned to younger ones to help them do their laundry and we all had regular chores, rotated weekly. "Pearl Diving" meant doing dishes. Other jobs included setting up the dining room tables with plates, cups and flatware, but I don't recall the girls doing anything strenuous, such as cleaning up the pondfront or other physical labor -- that was probably left to the menfolk. If you were a horseback riding fanatic as I was, you could strike a deal with the riding counselors where you could have virtually unlimited horse time if you mucked out stables, helped with the feeding and watering of the horses, and kept the tack clean. As a result, I became a master at shoveling shit (a skill I'm told I've retained, though in slightly different fashion), adept at tossing bales of hay with a pitchfork, etc.

The camp was co-ed, but the cabins were at opposite ends of the grounds, and there were never any scandals that I heard of. The age range was from eight to perhaps 16 years old. If I remember correctly, you could be a counselor-in-training at 16 or 17 and a counselor at 18. A lot of cool kids from all walks of life went to this camp, and I have many fond memories of my two summers there. Then, as mentioned earlier in this post, the unthinkable happened.

My cousin Lynn and I were sentenced to seven weeks per summer at the snootier camp down the pond. It was an all-girls camp (with its all-boy "brother" camp next door, kept separate except for sanctioned events...or sneaky older campers) and cost about $2200/summer (By the way, a visit to its web site revealed that it now costs about $7000/summer. Talk about inflation!). Seven weeks of structured hell, enforced swimming lessons and tennis daily, everything scheduled to the minute. Coming from that freewheeling society that was my previous camp, I felt like I was in prison. The kids were from a much higher income bracket than my former mates, and a lot of them were pretty snotty. I hated swimming, especially in ponds. I hated waterskiing, preferring the zip sled/aquaplane. Regardless, I was forced to attend waterskiing class, but became very popular when I would skip my turn when presented with waterskis. They would give into my yowls once or twice a summer and drag out the zip sled, on which I dazzled those waterskiers with my skills. (You see, at the OTHER camp, if I wasn't horseback riding, I was either zip sledding, playing hoops or attempting tennis, so I had a bit of an edge there.) Many other freedoms were curtailed. When fellow inmates learned where I had previously spent my summers, they would exclaim, "Oh, we always called that 'Camp Sex-In-The-Woods!' Tee-hee!" Well, I'm sure that some of the older kids messed around a bit, but the closest I came to that was a quick peck on the cheek after my 11-year-old boyfriend and I were elected "Prince and Princess" at the end of summer dance. (OK, there was the time I was caught in the hayloft with Richie, but all we were doing was building forts out of bales of hay. We were 11. It was 1973. Trust me, kids our age were far less aware of sex than kids today. It took us a few more years, and even then we were way behind today's youth.)

My first summer there was miserable, and I did not want to return. That didn't matter. In a way, it resembled the situation I'd gone through a few years before: my parents separated and I was moved from a Montessori school to a public school. Similar trauma experienced when transferred from freewheeling camp to jackboots-and-uniforms. Well, I never had a vote before, and things remained the same. I returned to that camp summer after summer. Eventually, I got used to it, and things (and perhaps my attitude) improved. I became an award-winning archer, starred in the camp play my last year, and developed some skills in soccer, softball and canoeing. My social skills improved, too, and I made a number of friends, even in my own cabin. The waterfront was still the bane of my existence, though. I regularly failed Junior Life Saving (not that I gave a shit), and skipped sailing class, as I hated that poky method of travel (the counselor was cool about it and didn't rat me out).

When you were 15, that was your senior year, and that was it. Oh, how I looked forward to that! Unfortunately, they decided to give a CIT (Counselor In Training) program a chance for my 16th summer (for reasons that would probably help you I.D. this camp, so I won't share them, as I prefer not to be sued over any comments I make on this blog!). We helped instruct in the sports/areas we were particularly skilled in, and spent our free time lumped in with the Seniors, taking instruction. Like counselors, we were given two nights off per week, and chose to spend them in the college town of Hanover (home of Dartmouth College). Unlike counselors, we faced the wrath of management when caught drinking in Hanover. (Whoopsie. I'll save that sordid tale for another entry...)

That was my last summer on Upper Baker Pond. Well, as it turned out, I had much better things to do with my 17th summer, filming the movie "Fame" in New York City. Y'know, maybe if my parents had responded to my plaintive pleas, I might have had a film career instead of wasting all those years and all that money. Just shows to go you...

I Love Paris In The Springtime...

2005-04-27T13:22:00.000-07:00

Truth is, I love Paris in the Fall, Winter, and Summer, too. However, since I don't live there, I'm happily settling for my lovely little neighborhood and all it has to offer. Except for the pollen. I developed an allergy to allergens about three years ago, and I'm really suffering these days.
Regardless, I have brought the patio furniture out of the shed and onto its rightful place in the back yard. The grill's been fired up on more than one occasion -- even had a dinner guest last week for yummy burgers -- and I've been stocking the freezer with steaks, my special hamburgers, and pork chops in barbecue sauce. Next, a trip to the Booze-A-Rama to lay in a variety of imported and craft beers, and I'm practically set for the grilling/chilling season.

I am so looking forward to spending time out back that I have even planned to pull what appear to be weeds sprouting up between the patio squares (or whatever those brick-like thingies are called). No one could ever accuse me of being a gardener, but I learned quite a few things from Patricia, my favorite relative and quite the country squire. I know what hostas are, and mine have begun to sprout leaves. Hydrangeas, too, plus Rose of Sharon and forsythia. The ivy is nicely covering the fence and the rose branches are looking dangerously sharp. All I need to do (after clearing out those weed-like growths) is plant some impatiens in the window box and I'm set. Maybe I'll get reckless and try to grow some of my favorite herbs, like rosemary. I'd plant catnip for the furry roommates, but there are several outdoor cats in the 'hood, and I'm afraid I'd start some problems with that. We'd have to have Phoenix House come and do a Kitty Outreach or something. Nope, bad idea.

Last year's big project was shed replacement and landscaping/fence repair. This year, I've decided to have a security light installed, one that I can also use for illumination while grilling/entertaining after dusk. I've located an outdoor outlet that a professional electrician can use to hardwire some kind of lighting system. And the patio furniture needs a coat of white Rustoleum, so I'll get to that soon.

The best part of all this, of course, will be the social aspect. I love grilling for friends, sharing great food along with quality beer, wine and homemade iced tea. I'll be sure to make some special summertime mix CDs to enhance the back yard experience, but will ensure that they're played at a reasonable volume so as not to disturb the neighbors (some of whom will already be hanging in the yard!). It doesn't get much better than this. Well, perhaps in Paris...

Egregious Lack of Posts Lately...So Here's Some More

2005-04-26T11:39:00.000-07:00

Yes, I admit it. I have been horribly lax about writing in my blog of late. Blame it on spring fever, blame it on being cranky because of a massive dental bill, blame it on the bossa nova, but, ultimately, it all comes back to me. So if I've disappointed anyone other than myself, heartfelt apologies and a promise to post more frequently. Here's an encore post for today to try and redeem myself...

When I'm not being an ol' crankypants, I try to keep myself occupied with new and interesting things (old ones, too). I recently discovered the incredible instrument that is Joss Stone's voice. I'd been hearing about her for a year or more (the gal just turned 18), a white teenager from England with a voice like Janis Joplin's. The full impact of her talent didn't hit me until I saw a clip from this year's Grammy awards. She teamed with the incredible Melissa Etheridge on a tribute to Joplin, and while it was Etheridge's night, Stone shone with her rendition of "Cry Baby." Then, as you may have heard, Etheridge stalked out onto the stage with her electric guitar and beautiful bald head and proceeded to rip into "Piece of My Heart." Outstanding. You can download it for a small fee, which goes to fund breast cancer research. I've been listening to it almost non-stop, and it really came in handy last Friday night, as I was stuck in horrendous George Washington Bridge traffic. As my car creeped along for about 45 minutes, I kept hitting the repeat button on the CD player and sang/belted/screamed along with Joss and Melissa, alternating joy with rage until my voice gave out (probably after the fifth time). I cannot fathom how Etheridge screams so beautifully. I don't have any of her CDs, but I have great performances by her from "The Concert for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame" CD and from the Paul McCartney-organized Concert for 9/11. It makes me think that I need to buy some of her stuff, and some of Joss Stone's, too.

Speaking of CDs, I finally tackled a chore I've been avoiding for about a year and a half. My brother re-hung my CD cabinets inside a large closet (I call it the media closet, as it is also crammed with albums and VHS tapes that I can't bear to part with, as well as a couple of thousand CDs) and half the collection was neatly put away, categorized by genre, then artist, then chronologically. The other half of the collection was stacked haphazardly in the closet. It only took about an hour and a half, but I got the rest of them organized and properly placed in the cabinets. Of course, this doesn't include the couple hundred CDs hanging out in the living room, bedroom or office, but I'll get to them soon. Eventually I'll have burned copies of favorites for the car and office, so I can then properly store the scattered discs, but that's a chore for another day. (I don't like chores of any kind, so postponing them is one of my favorite things to do!)

Next project...finding a home for the stacks of DVDs that seem to have popped up everywhere. The lovely storage cabinet I purchased for them was supposed to hold 350, but only takes about 240. Unfortunately, there's no room for the two or three additional cabinets I would need to purchase, so I have to figure out another way to contain them (any ideas are welcomed). Besides, my dentist has all my damn money anyway.

More Soul Than I Can Control

2005-04-26T11:26:00.000-07:00

Recently, I heard from a friend that her young children (one aged seven and a pair of four-year-old twins) have been requesting that she play my special mix CD, made to mark a milestone birthday. It contains songs that trace my musical taste, from childhood to present, and the kids are very fond of Todd Rundgren's "Bang The Drum All Day." I asked her how she managed to deal with Ian Dury's "Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll," and she said they skip over that one. "All I need is for Nicholas to burst out with THAT one in school!"

I think it would be very educational for NikNik to learn and perform that song! Reminds me of a time in nursery school, when we were all seated in a circle and asked to sing our favorite song. All the little losers were singing "Mary Had A Little Lamb" and "The Farmer in the Dell." Me? I burst out with my rendition of the Four Tops' "Reach Out (I'll Be There)" and was humiliated by the teacher, who told me it was not a song. "It is so! I hear it on the radio, and my parents have the record!" I ceased being one of the favorites at that moment. Oh well. At least I had soul.

Conversion

2005-04-04T12:14:00.000-07:00

Ha, bet you thought this would have a religious bent, right? Nope. I'm talking about media conversion, specifically from vinyl to compact disc and from VHS tape to DVD. An extremely talented friend of mine has all the hardware and software necessary to make these conversions. Here's what I gave him this weekend (note: none of these are available on the updated media, so it's just a transfer of something I already own onto a format not available in any store. Nothing illegal.):
ALBUMS
Tootsie (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack). "It Might Be You" is one of the prettiest songs I've ever heard. Written and performed by Stephen Bishop (who also composed the soundtrack), it's definitely on the list of songs to be played when first dancing with your new husband. (OK, I may not have the husband, but I have the list!) Here's some little-known trivia about the song: it was performed in the wonderful movie "Waiting to Exhale" by Roberta Flack (all four of the stars sing along with it in the car in one of the last scenes of the film). Unfortunately, it's not on the soundtrack, and I have to find out if it's on one of Flack's CDs.

Mannix (Original Television Soundtrack). Mannix was one of the great detective shows of the late 1960s. It also had a killer soundtrack by famed composer Lalo Schifrin. A great jazz musician and composer, Schifrin used a variety of styles on the soundtrack, and it kicks butt. The last track, "EndGame," is a dynamic, driving and exciting piece of work, punctuated by horns and amazing drumming. We used it for many years at my mother's dancing school, and I finally stole it one year when I noticed it hadn't been in use. It's a classic. A CD version was released a few years ago, but to my extreme disappointment, all the tunes had been "updated" and "rearranged," and, frankly, they sucked compared to the original. Although my purloined copy is very scratched up (the dancing school staff was never very careful with the albums, which drove me nuts, especially when my mother would sneak some of MY music to the studio), my buddy's got the technology that should smooth things out. Yay!

Jack Wagner, Lighting Up The Night. Jack Wagner is best known as an actor on soap operas, as well as prime time and tv movies. When he started on General Hospital in the mid-80s, he was a singing soap star, and I was one of many who bought his albums and went to his concerts. It didn't hurt that he was drop-dead gorgeous! Anyway, his first couple of albums were on Quincy Jones' Qwest label, and were never reissued on CD. I was able to find a (very expensive) Japanese version of his first album, but not the second (Lighting Up The Night). When I met Jack at a signing about 10 years ago, I asked him if the first albums would become available on CD, and he said that Jones owned the rights to them and didn't seem inclined to reissue them. Well, Mr. Jones, I usually get what I want...and I will have Lighting Up The Night on CD this week!

Concert for the People of Kampuchea (Various Artists). This is a great double album from a concert organized by Paul McCartney to raise money for the people of Kampuchea. You may remember the country's original name as Cambodia. Anyway, a wonderful gang of artists (The Who, Elvis Costello, The Pretenders, Ian Dury, The Clash, Queen, and Paul McCartney among them) did this fundraiser around 1979 (or so), and it was never released on anything other than vinyl. Boy, would I love to have a DVD of this show! I'll settle for a transfer to CD, and be very, very happy.

Times Square (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack). This movie, produced by Robert Stigwood (Grease, Saturday Night Fever), was probably an attempt to do for punk what those other two films did for '50s music and disco. Didn't quite happen that way. Tim Curry was the biggest name in the film, which introduced Trini Alvarado and Robin Johnson as "The Sleaze Sisters," trying to survive and thrive in the sleaze capital of the world -- NY's Times Square. It has a killer soundtrack, with music from Joe Jackson, The Ramones, The Pretenders, Lou Reed, Talking Heads, and other great bands. Now I'll be able to listen to it in the car!

VHS TRANSFERS
If Looks Could Kill. This 1989/1990 era movie starred Richard ("21 Jump Street") Grieco as a teenaged James Bond-type, playing spy throughout Europe. Lots of fun, but not available on DVD...until now!

Liza Minnelli Live From Radio City Music Hall. One of her first big comebacks (1992), and a terrific show.

Frank, Sammy and Liza: The Ultimate Event. This was a concert tour filmed for HBO in 1987, starring the incomparable Sammy Davis, Jr., Liza Minnelli and Frank Sinatra. All were in great voice and it's a wonderful two hours. My friend Mike played trombone in the orchestra (also in the Live From Radio City Music Hall concerts), so I asked him why The Ultimate Event had never been released on anything, and I believe his answer was because of copyright/performance complications, which makes sense, unfortunately. I can't wait to see it on DVD!

Looks like I'll be glued to either the tv or the stereo this weekend!

Odds and Ends

2005-03-28T08:49:00.001-08:00

First off, to update my last entry: I have since found out that Elvis Costello closed the show with "The Scarlet Tide," one of the songs he wrote for the movie "Cold Mountain." It was a beautiful ballad, and I'll be adding it to my growing EC collection.

I found out that had I hung out at The House of Blues a little longer after the concert, I would have had the chance to meet the man. My cousin's friends invited us to stay at the bar and have a drink, but we begged off, exhausted. Damn, damn, damn. He came out after we left, so they got to meet him and have a chat. He was really cool (as if there were any doubt about that!).

An old buddy of mine from high school, Ray Vega, will be performing in June at the Flushing Town Hall. His specialty is "Latin bop" and salsa, and he's just terrific. We played trumpet in several bands together while at Music & Art, and he continued on to have a great career as a musician. He was Tito Puente's lead trumpet player for many years, and tours the country both as a working musician and as a sought-after teacher of master classes for trumpeters. Ray's also released a number of CDs, and they're great. We hadn't been in touch for a few years, but after a pal of mine said he was getting tickets for Ray's concert, I e-mailed him to let him know I'd be there, and he immediately wrote back. We'll be going backstage to see him after the show, and I can't wait to see him and get one of his wonderful, enveloping hugs.

"Desparate Housewives" had a new episode last night! I think the last one was around Valentine's Day. I've missed my Wisteria Lane friends and was very happy to see them last night. Great show. Then ABC debuted a new medical drama, "Grey's Anatomy," and I liked it. It was a little quirky but nicely developed, with interesting characters and good acting. What's not to like? (Well, OK, I could have done without the millions of promos that the network's been running for it -- which it has done ad nauseum for other new programs, such as "Jake In Progress," "Blind Justice," and "The Bachelor." I've enjoyed John Stamos in "JIP," but haven't bothered with the other two.)

Up until last week, the only thing I'd watched on the FX network was Denis Leary's excellent "Rescue Me" series about NYC firefighters. (Season 2 starts in June.) Then I heard that Glenn Close was joining the cast of "The Shield," on FX Tuesday evenings, so I tuned it in to watch her debut. Well, Ms. Close could probably recite a repair manual and make it sound compelling, so having her on the show was good enough for me. I was pleasantly surprised by the rest of the cast, star Michael Chiklis and a solid roster of supporting players. Both acting and writing are good, so it's a pleasure to watch.

Incidentally, Michael Chiklis has had an interesting career. His first big break came when he was cast as John Belushi in a tv movie based on the biography "Wired." The bio was not exactly a love song to Belushi, more like "warts and all." Many sordid tales of his dug use were spun, and brother Jim Belushi and best bud Dan Aykroyd were most vocal in their dislike (to put it mildly) of the book and the planned movie. They claimed that many of the worst stories quoted by the author were from "people who weren't even there." From all accounts, Chiklis gave a good performance, however, it was years before he worked again. A lot of people didn't think that was coincidental, as a lot of powerful people did not like the material he had to work with in "Wired." His comeback was with a police drama called "The Commish," and after that eventually went off the air, he was cast in "The Shield," which garnered a lot of controversial press in its first year. I expect that calmed down after viewers/reviewers saw what a quality program it actually was, not unlike "NYPD Blue" at its inception. Chiklis has fought hard for his career, and it has paid off. More power to him. He and Close work well together, and I wish much success for them and for the show.

Once in love with Elvis, always in love with Elvis

2005-03-16T11:35:00.000-08:00

My first Elvis was, of course, The King, Elvis Presley. I took a lot of shit for loving Elvis; in elementary school (late '60s-early '70s), I was always made fun of for saying I was an Elvis fan. Yes, I liked the Partridge Family and the Osmonds like most of my contemporaries, but I was not afraid to say I liked Elvis. And now I'm damn proud that I stood up for myself.

I still love Presley, but have also found room for another Elvis: Costello. When he broke onto the scene as an angry young punk from England, I liked a few of his songs, but thought he was a bit weird. He had this odd way of walking on the side of his foot and looked a lot like Buddy Holly.

Well, through the years, both Elvis and I have matured and branched out. He's embraced a variety of musical styles, from opera to chamber music to Burt Bacharach, and excelled at all of them. However, the man STILL rocks! I did something very unusual this past weekend, something that I hope becomes a new habit, and it's all because of Elvis. Let me explain.

A couple of months ago, I got an e-mail alert that Elvis was touring. I checked out the tour, and he was appearing nowhere near where I live (that has since changed), but he WAS scheduled to play The House of Blues in New Orleans on March 12. I LOVE The House of Blues in New Orleans. Love, love, love it. Up until last weekend, I had only eaten and drank there. This time I was determined to see Elvis, no matter what.

I called a few friends, all Elvis fans, to see if they'd join me on a great weekend adventure in Nawlins. All had financial or other commitments that prevented them from coming along. So, I called cousin Christine, who lives in Nawlins, and offered to take her to the show if she could get us tickets. Christine is VERY connected in that city, and getting the tickets took no more than a couple of phone calls and $50 per ducat. Which I was very happy to pay. It was then decided that I'd crash at her place and we'd have some good times Louisiana-style over the weekend, capped by the Elvis concert. I don't usually do crazy things like fly 1,500 miles to go to a concert and then fly right back home again, but after this past weekend, you can bet that I will slowly edge towards being a wild and spontaneous person, able to pick up and do fun things...maybe even at the last minute! Unplanned! How nutty is that?

We had a great time. The show was amazing. Elvis was amazing. I knew the names of less than half the songs, but loved them all. He played a full two hour show, pausing every couple of tunes to let his guitar technician sling a different guitar over his shoulder, and it was incredible. At the end, he performed a ballad (I think the title must have been something about the difference between a widow and a bride) and at one point stepped away from the microphone and sang without amplification. It took a few moments for the room to hush, but hush it did. I have never had this quality experience at a concert before, and doubt that anyone else could pull it off. Granted, The House of Blues accommodates only about 1,000 people, but still. Quite a trick. What a performance, and what a performer.

Elvis Costello has a great voice and exceptional songwriting skill. His lyrics are thoughtful, intelligent and poetic. Definitely someone I would love to meet and spend some time with. (Now I'm thinking of a blog entry along the lines of "Guess Who's Coming To Dinner," listing people I'd like to get to know over a meal! He's on the list.) Whether he's performing his own songs, those written by others (Charles Aznavour's "She," featured in "Notting Hill") or those written with others (any of his collaborations with Burt Bacharach, especially "God Give Me Strength"), he's terrific. After seeing him in such an intimate venue, I'm hooked for life. I'll be seeing you again, Elvis. Count on it!

Did The Oscars Rock?

2005-03-03T11:05:00.000-08:00

The annual Oscar awards, broadcast Sunday, February 27, were experimental in many ways. Producer Gil Cates, in an attempt to shorten the length of the show, had some awards handed out in the aisles, and some presented on stage, but to a group of nominees -- the losers would slink off as the winner(s) accepted the award. I'm all for a shorter broadcast, but this was beyond tacky. Had I been one of those nominees, I would have preferred to receive my award at a non-televised-but-excerpted-at-the-main-show ceremony, such as the one they have for Scientific Awards. Give me a break.

One effective way to speed things up would have been to omit things like Chris Rock's pre-taped Q&A with movie goers. What exactly was Rock trying to prove with this unfunny waste of time? Oh, I knew where he was going with it, but, y'know, didn't Rock insult the Oscars enough in pre-show interviews?

Chris Rock is a brilliant comic who makes you think as well as laugh. He didn't do much of either as the Oscar host. A few funny lines were overshadowed (in my opinion) by his un-funny schtick with Adam Sandler, filling in for the "absent Catherine Zeta-Jones," his introduction of Penelope Cruz and Salma Hayek as "the next four presenters," and that Q&A. It made me long for the days of Billy Crystal, Steve Martin and Whoopi Goldberg, all of whom were fantastic Oscar hosts. The only living person who could possibly top Billy Crystal would be Robin Williams, but I think the censors are too afraid of his rapid-fire wit (he even poked fun of this by walking out with tape over his mouth). Jim Carrey would also be a good candidate. Or Ellen DeGeneres.

If the show is entertaining, then why worry about its length? Present fewer awards at the televised ceremonies, feature more clips from the movies, tributes to Hollywood legends (dead AND alive), and actually celebrate the industry. That's what the Oscars are really about. They say that viewership dropped because the nominated films didn't appeal to a younger audience; no true blockbusters among them, unlike years featuring crowd pleasers like "Titanic" or "Lord of the Rings." Okay, if you know that your nominations skew to a different demographic, plan other parts of the show that will bring in the desired audience. For instance, had it been publicized that Beyonce would be performing three of the five nominated "Best Songs," that might have attracted some viewers. (By the way, Beyonce is a gifted vocalist, and looked spectacular in her variety of gowns, but three songs? Come on! No one else was available? Share the wealth!)

Perhaps it's time the Oscars broke down and split the categories into "Drama" and "Muscial or Comedy," as they do at other award shows. That way, they could get away with televising only the awards for Best Picture, Director, Actor, Actress, Supporting Actor and Supporting Actress in their categories, along with Best Song. It would tighten things up and broaden the range of nominees. How fair is it to choose five nominees from so many potential and deserving films/people? Wouldn't it be a more exciting show? Call me, Gil -- let's talk!

SHORT TAKES
By the way, I figured out why the humorless Sean Penn took such umbrage with Rock's jokes about "seems-to-be-in-everything" Jude Law. Penn is currently filming a new movie with Law, and that's probably why he took offense. Penn, though a bit over the top, is someone I'd like to have as a friend -- he apparently has a deep, heart-felt sense of loyalty.

Also, did you notice that the composer/vocalist who won the "Best Song" award seemed unimpressed by Antonio Banderas and Santana's rendition -- which I though was terrific -- of his "Al Otro Lado Del Rio?" Instead of an acceptance speech, he sang a verse of the song in his own quieter style. I thought both versions were fine, but still consider his an upset win over "Believe."

While on the subjectof "Best Song," there was one original song written for the movie version of "The Phantom of the Opera," entitled "Learn to Be Lonely." In the movie (so much better than the Broadway version; even I, who normally loathe its composer, loved the film - see it!), it was sung over the end credits by actress Minnie Driver. Driver, who played a diva in the film, had her operatic singing voice dubbed, but was given the opportunity to perform at the end. She recently released a CD, which got decent reviews, so I wasn't surprised when gossip started flurrying about how upset she was not to be asked to perform it at the Academy Awards. Renee Zellweger deliberately chose not to perform the nominated song from "Chicago" that she sang in the movie with Catherine Zeta-Jones at the ceremonies a couple of years ago, saying she'd be too nervous to sing it live and would rather enjoy the show. In other words, she's known for her acting, not her singing, so let's stick to our strengths, hmm? A good move; Queen Latifah stepped in and did a great job with the hugely pregnant Zeta-Jones. In this case, though, were the producers trying to please their audience by having well-known artists (Banderas, Santana, Beyonce) perform songs by lesser-known talents? Well, then spark some interest in the show by publicizing this, as mentioned above, don't just insult the original artists!

Keeping in mind the slights made by the producers by presenting awards in the aisle or en masse, dissing the musical talent and hiring Chris Rock as host, I would recommend that they be made to listen to Aretha Franklin's classic "Respect," at full blast, for the amount of time the Oscars took to broadcast. Given their distaste for original artists, though, I'll allow them to have the version first recorded by its composer. That would be Otis Redding. It would NOT be an additional punishment, just a reminder that there's often nothing wrong with original artists. A lesson well learned.

Liza: A Real Trouper

2005-02-22T07:38:00.000-08:00

While it may not be "cool" to admit it, I've been a fan of Liza Minnelli's probably since I saw her in "Caberet," back in 1972. I was 10 years old and one of her youngest fans (and I probably still hold that distinction, confirmed time and time again by looking at others in the audience when I'm lucky enough to see her in concert).

The last couple of years, she's been in the news for allegations made by her soon-to-be-ex-husband, David Gest, and a former employee. Liza married Gest in a rather bizarre display of excess amid a host of Hollywood "legends" (more her mother's generation than her own), but the marriage to the promoter (and dear friend of Michael Jackson and his family; both Michael and Tito Jackson were in the wedding party) lasted barely a year. Now they're in the courts, sniping back and forth. The most ludicrous claim he's made, in my opinion, is that she beat him up one night while plastered on vodka. I submit to you that if you can't run away from a staggering drunk with two replaced hips (not to mention a woman who is about half his size), well, maybe there's something going on with YOU. I'd hazard a few guesses, but I'm not going to say anything about this litigious lout that could come back to bite me. (As this is a journal, though, I believe my personal thoughts are just that, personal.)

I will say that Gest was momentarily good for her career. He whipped her into shape (controlling her food choices and portions) and she played a solid two weeks at the Beacon Theater in NYC in mid-2002. I was there for closing night, and she was astounding. By 2002, I had seen her perform live five times since 1977, and she just kept getting better.

Then the marriage went sour, and Liza's career was back-burnered. However, she recently did an appearance on the "Arrested Development" sitcom, which reportedly enjoyed its highest ratings to date. She is also co-starring in a movie with Parker Posey that should be released later this year. And she's doing the occasional concert!

A few weeks ago, I had heard that Liza would be at Westbury Music Fair on Long Island (now being renamed The North Fork Theater at Westbury, another corporate naming travesty, not unlike that of Candlestick Park in San Fransisco. Both my memories, and those of the performers who appeared there, will always be of Westbury Music Fair...in fact, both Liza and her special guest, Ben Vereen, shared some of their favorite stories from years of appearing at that venue.) My aunt Judy and I went to the box office and were astounded to score fifth row tickets to the February 20th show. Amazing!

What was even more amazing was that Liza's three night stand at Westbury was not sold out. Her appearances there were barely promoted, even to the point that no artist merchandise was offered for sale. How sad. I asked an usher what was going on and she said, "no, they're not selling anything, but the show is wonderful -- you're going to have a great evening!"

And we did. Liza came down to the stage through the audience (Westbury is "in the round") and opened with "Old Friends," looking great and sounding better. She then introduced Ben Vereen, who performed some Broadway standards and a tribute to Sammy Davis, Jr. A very good performance, made better when he informed the audience that he would soon be back on Broadway as the Wizard in "Wicked."

Then Liza took over. She seemed rather at ease with the audience, and so grateful for the overwhelming reception we gave her. I do not exaggerate when I tell you that for every song, there was a standing ovation, and she deserved them. Working with a slight cold (kiss of death for most singers), she was still in magnificent voice and her stage presence thoroughly professional. At one point, she introduced John Kander from the audience. Kander, with his late collaborator, Fred Ebb, wrote most of the songs and shows associated with Minnelli, notably "New York, New York," "Caberet," and "Chicago." Now, some of you Broadway purists might object to the inclusion of "Chicago," but when its original star Gwen Verdon fell ill, Liza took over the role with about one week of rehearsal. From all accounts, she was fantastic.

She treated us to a couple of lesser-known songs from both those shows, including "So What," from the original stage version of "Caberet," performed on stage by the legendary Lotte Lenya. Another highlight was when she transformed an Old English ballad into a variety of musical forms. Naturally, she closed the show with "Caberet" and "New York, New York," to her loudest ovations of the evening. The audience could not get enough of her, and she returned to the stage, conferred with her arranger/pianist Billy Stritch (marvellously talented in his own right) and long-time conductor/drummer Bill Lavorgna, and ended up doing a lovely acapella version of "I'll Be Seeing You." (She'd told the audience that they'd run out of their music, so she chose to leave us with that song.) Again, she didn't miss a note, and my ears were listening sharply.

Liza is one of the few living entertainers who can be mentioned in the same breath as Sammy Davis, Jr., mother Judy Garland, and, yes, Frank Sinatra. Fortunately for us, she's a generation younger, so if she stays the course she's currently on, we should be able to enjoy her talent for many, many years. She's a showstopper with very few peers (Streisand is one).

Next month, I'll be reporting on a special trip I'm taking to New Orleans to see Elvis Costello at The House of Blues. Another generation, another genius. And proof that my musical taste is truly eclectic!

I Smile Broadly When...

2005-02-08T11:44:00.000-08:00

1. I'm proven right. This will likely be the last chance I get to crow about this one, so listen up: The Screen Actors Guild just gave the award for Best Actor in a TV Movie/Mini-Series to Geoffrey Rush for "The Life And Death of Peter Sellers." (happy dance)

2. there's a cat purring in my lap. It's usually Moochie, though Scraps and Spunky Bastard have been known to snuggle up beside me, also purring. Moochie is THE lap cat, though. And a love bug. She stretches up and tilts her head for a kiss, and not just to me; also to visiting friends. Maybe she's just a kitty slut.

3. things work out nicely. I just scored fifth row seats for Liza Minnelli in two weeks, and two sold-out tickets for Elvis Costello. What's really cool about the latter one (and, yes, my musical taste IS wide and varied) is that it's at the House of Blues in New Orleans, so I'll be flying down for the weekend and hanging with my cousin, who had the clout to snag the tickets. Trust me, it'll be a mega-blast!

4. great things happen to great people. A friend of mine just got word from her doctor that she has absolutely nothing wrong with her liver. About a year ago, her liver numbers went flying off the chart for reasons that have yet to be discovered/proven, so she's been going through hell. Plus, I lost a drinking buddy for a while. We'll be cracking open a bottle of red to toast her health, and I mean SOON!

5. I reconnect with an old friend. And it's as if days, not years, have passed.

Things to Have With You on a Desert Island (Part II)

2005-02-02T13:33:00.000-08:00

The first in this series dealt solely with books. Today we're moving on to DVDs (remember, this is a lavishly stocked desert island...I love my creature comforts!).

1. The Godfather Trilogy.
Maybe if I watch GFIII over and over again, it will begin to make sense. GFI & II are classics, yet I pick up another nuance with each viewing. And there are lots of extras in the "Making of..." DVD that comes with the set.

2. The James Bond Collection.
Oh, behave! I can never get tired of these (well, maybe the Timothy Dalton ones).

3. The Austin Powers Collection.
Yeah, baby! A must-have companion to the Bonds. Shagadelic!

4. Tommy.
The Who's rock opera, successfully reinvented as a movie, with an all-star cast and, oddly, Keith Moon as Uncle Ernie, but not drumming on the soundtrack (he was in a snit and refused to play, though I do believe he's part of The Pinball Wizard's backing band...on film, anyway). Catch Ann-Margret and Jack Nicholson's first reunion since "Carnal Knowledge," adding some extra undertones to their scene. Oliver Reed sings! Eric Clapton plays! Tina Turner is...Tina Turner.

5. TV Series Collections: AbFab, The Golden Girls, Married: With Children, South Park, Twin Peaks, Las Vegas, Designing Women, The League of Gentlemen, Charlie's Angels, SOAP, Rocky & Bullwinkle, Alias, The Munsters.
Finally, enough time to watch them all!

6. Concerts.
Including Van Halen, Billy Joel, Eric Clapton, Live Aid, Concert for Monserrat, Divas Live, Paul McCartney, The Police, Concert for The Queen's Jubilee, Jeff Buckley, Tribute to Brian Wilson, Queen, Gloria Estefan, Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, Liza Minnelli, Barbra Streisand, Marilyn Manson, Monterey Pop, Simon & Garfunkel, Concert for George (Harrison), and probably a couple more I'm blanking out on. Don't forget, the Island Theater System is kick-ass!

7. Singin' In The Rain.
Possibly the best movie musical of all time. Of course, I'd have to bring its contemporaries -- An American In Paris, Brigadoon, The King and I, The Phantom of the Opera (yes, I know, I can't stand AL-W, but this turned out to be a great movie, in spite of him), My Fair Lady, Viva Las Vegas, Oliver!, Chicago, The Sound of Music, Ray, What's Love Got To Do With It?, and, ahem, Fame.

8. Gangs of New York.
One of Scorsese's best, along with After Hours, Cape Fear and Goodfellas, so we'll bring them all.

9. A bunch of Dumb Teenage Flicks.
Gotta have Private School, Valley Girl, Not Just Another Teen Movie, Cruel Intentions, Class of 1984, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Final Destination, Student Bodies, If Looks Could Kill, Ferris Bueller's Day Off.

10. A bunch of Dumb Adult Flicks.
There's Something About Mary, Jackass, Class Reunion, Animal House, Sour Grapes, Rat Race, Xanadu, Arthur, Arthur II: On The Rocks, Foul Play, Micki & Maude, Overboard, Bird on a Wire.

11. Chick Flicks.
Waiting To Exhale, Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, Miss Congeniality, Stepmom, Steel Magnolias, My Best Friend's Wedding, Double Jeopardy, Mrs. Doubtfire, The Birdcage, and Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (and yes, there is a reason why these last three are on the Chick Flick list).

12. Action Films.
Both Bourne movies, the Lethal Weapon series, Ransom, The Patriot, The Long Kiss Goodnight, Cliffhanger, the Die Hard trilogy, the Mission: Impossible movies, and probably several more that I may add later.

A well-stocked desert island, indeed! Next installment: music.

Powerful Movie, Excellent Cast

2005-02-01T08:16:00.000-08:00

Well, I listened to Oprah and saw "Hotel Rwanda" this weekend. It left me feeling physically drawn and mentally weak. The story and the horrors portrayed within are real. This is a true story. Rwanda, Africa, 1994. The Hutus are taking their revenge on the Tutsi tribe, which had been chosen by the Belgians (colonizers of Rwanda) as the ruling tribe, largely due to their superior height, lighter complexions and narrower noses. Yes, they measured noses. When the Belgians left, the Hutus took over and mass murders began. Don Cheadle plays Paul, the manager of a Belgian five-star hotel (owned by Sabena, a major conglomerate in Belgium) in Rwanda. Paul's a smart guy. He saves up favors that he knows he may have to call in one day, gifting generals with expensive Scotch and hoarding Cuban cigars to hand out to other people of importance. Corruption thrives in Rwanda. When the fighting spills over to his part of Rwanda, Paul must bring his Tutsi wife and their children to the hotel for safety, and ends up housing more than 1,000 Tutsis in the hotel complex. He does this even though his first instinct is that family is all that matters. Paul does everything possible to save lives and, when the United Nations military forces (led by Nick Nolte) tell him that none of the superpowers are sending help, takes matters into his own hands. He calls the president of Sabena (an uncredited performance by Jean Reno) and gets assistance by pointing out how bad it will look for Sabena if one of its properties is destroyed and more than 100 employees killed. However, Sabena's influence can only go so far, and Rwanda gets more dangerous by the hour.

I'm not going to tell more of the story, because it's one that should be seen. Don Cheadle (so great in "The Rat Pack," "Boogie Nights," and other films) gives a passionate performance, nominated for an Academy Award. I would be amazed if he beat out Jamie Foxx (whose portrayal of Ray Charles is the favorite, for good reason), but the Oscars have surprised us before. Although I've been rooting for Foxx since seeing "Ray," this would be an upset that I could easily live with.

OK, It's Officially Cold Now

2005-01-27T13:34:00.000-08:00

Normally, I prefer winter to summer, because if you're cold, simply put on a sweater or grab a blanket. If you're hot, you need air conditioning, which isn't always available, plus it's expensive (you should see my Con Ed bills; they quadruple in total from May through September). My Scandinavian blood (though thinned by a couple of generations) has allowed me to visit Duluth in winter, ski in long underwear and jeans, and run around without a jacket. Until now.

You see, the Greater New York City/Long Island area has been in a cold snap. No longer do I sleep with both windows wide open to compensate for the dry heat pumped out through the radiator (though one window is slightly ajar). We had a fair amount of snow dumped on the area this past weekend, and I broke out not only a down coat, but attached the hood for a trek through two feet of the fluffy stuff to the bagel store on Sunday. That, for me, is drastic.

That being said, I still prefer cold over hot. Snow days are great. I caught up on my reading and a few DVDs this weekend, snuggled closely with my felines, and had a festive chili dinner with some good friends/neighbors. Although I skipped the gym on Monday, I felt no guilt at all, as the trek for bagels was more of a cardio workout than I normally do (not to mention the digging out of the car!). And the snowstorm looked even more gorgeous through a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.

Right now, it's the coldest day of the year (thus far) and I have a date with my trainer at the gym tonight. I'm looking forward to getting through that punishment and then curling up with a flannel blanket, kitties, a DVD (probably from Season One of "Las Vegas") and a huge steaming mug of my special Irish Tea: hot tea mixed with blackberry brandy and peppermint schnapps. Yum! Maybe this cold snap isn't so bad after all...

How Can We Let Atrocities Like This Continue?

2005-01-26T13:02:00.000-08:00

Four million people murdered over six years.

Now think: when and where did this happen?

Any idea?

Here's a hint: it's going on right now.

Still don't know? You're (sadly) not alone.

The Oprah Winfrey Show sent journalist Lisa Ling (formerly of "The View," now a correspondent for the National Geographic Network) to a place where horror is a way of life. Here's a quote from the recent Oprah show (more specifically, from the Oprah website) on which Ling reported her findings:

"As she often does, journalist Lisa Ling risked her life to tell us a very important story. She recently travelled to the Democratic Republic of the Congo to uncover what's been happening to women in the middle of this war-torn country. The country's most recent conflict stems from a struggle for resources and power, both among domestic and foreign interests—four million people have already been massacred. Lisa spoke to brutalized women in the village of Bukavu who are speaking for the first time in hopes the world will hear their voices. Every single day in the Congo, rape is used as a vicious weapon against women in this war. 'More than any other place I've been, life in the Congo can really be like living hell,' Lisa says. 'If you're a woman, you're constantly in danger of rebels who are hiding in the forest coming and attacking your village and gang raping you, possibly in front of your children.'"

Ling did risk her life traveling to this part of the world. She reported on horrific stories of rape, terror, and women who were then rejected by their husbands because they had been forced into sex slavery by the rebels, often imprisoned for months in the jungle by these sadistic rapists. Women who gave birth to children whose father could have been any one of a number of men who gang raped them, then ostracized by villagers who suggested the children should be killed. Women far braver than I.

Both Oprah and Lisa Ling were incredulous over the fact that hardly anyone knows about these atrocities. Other than the recent movie, "Hotel Rwanda," there's been little publicity. Their conclusion: it's a racial thing. Who cares what's happening in Africa, to Africans? Unfortunately, I think they're right.

Oprah urged the audience to go see "Hotel Rwanda," starring Don Cheadle, who was just nominated for a Best Actor Oscar for his performance in it. I'm going to see it this weekend. How about you?

Things to Have With You on a Desert Island (Part I)

2005-01-21T11:21:00.000-08:00

First off, one of the things that puzzled me most about "Gilligan's Island" was if the Professor could build a car, rig up a phonograph record, and do god knows what else, WHY THE HELL COULDN'T HE FIX THE DAMN BOAT? Or at least build a new one? (Why the Howells brought trunks of money on a three hour cruise has also kept me up at night. Maybe Thurston was laundering money and was the real reason why the Minnow got tossed and tossed, in a plan to go offshore that went strangely awry. Hey, not as implausible a scenario as the actual show!)

Having said that, I've come up with lists of things I'd bring with me to a desert island. It was originally limited to books, but since I hate the beach (and fish), I decided I deserve more distractions/entertainment. Just have someone brighter than the Professor set up the island with a home theater system, a bookcase and comfy hammock (a red wine cellar would be lovely, too), and I'll stay for years, as long as I have the following:

A) Books to Have While Stranded on a Desert Island
1. "The Stand" (unabridged) by Stephen King. Easily his best work. I also like one of his less popular tomes, "Needless Things." The Castle Rock books would be nice to have (including "The Dead Zone" and "It," among others).
2. Irwin Shaw's "Rich Man, Poor Man." Television's first mini-series came out of this book. Wonderfully rich storytelling, like most of Shaw's catalogue. "Nightwork" is another favorite.
3. "As The Crow Flies," by disgraced member of Parliament/jailbird/author Jeffrey Archer. He writes great, epic stories. I'd probably sneak in a couple more of his books.
4. "The Alienist" by Caleb Carr. Inventive mix of real-life historical figures and fiction (one of my favorite genres -- see "Fred Mustard Stewart"). Set in turn-of-19th century New York City, beautifully done. The sequel was also pretty good.
5. Anything by Susan Isaacs. Top three: "Compromising Positions," "Almost Paradise," and "Shining Through."
6. Olivia Goldsmith's best: "The First Wives Club" and "Flavor of the Month."
7. As much Fred Mustard Stewart as possible. If limited to a few, I'd choose "Ellis Island," "Pomp and Circumstance," "A Rage Against Heaven," and "The Titan."
8. Continuing the historical fiction genre, how about all the John Jakes books?
9. "Yes I Can," the autobiography of Sammy Davis, Jr. A classic. If you haven't read it, please do, along with the more truthful and revealing version he released nearly 30 years later, "Why Me?"
10. "My Life" by Bill Clinton. Finally... enough time to read it!

The next post will deal with DVDs and/or CDs. Remember, I hate the beach, so I need as many toys as I can get!

More Bondage

2005-01-19T08:15:00.000-08:00

No, it's not a plea, just a different way to say "UPDATE." According to AOL, London bookmakers have set odds on who will be the next actor to play James Bond. Hugh Jackman leads, with 2-1 odds. My boy Ewan McGregor comes in second, with 7-2 odds (which I guess translates to 3-1/2 to 1 odds). Now in third place is Clive Owen, at 4-1 odds. He was originally given 8-1, but his odds improved after his Golden Globe win for Best Supporting Actor, in "Closer."

I wasn't overjoyed with "Closer," but did note that Owen displayed a few of the attributes needed to play 007. If memory serves, he was in "King Arthur" recently, which would mean he could handle the physical part of being Bond. He's also tall, dark and handsome. And very intense.

Of these three actors, I still prefer McGregor overall, but Owen moves into second place, ahead of Jackman. Admittedly, I've only seen Jackman in light comedies, so this may be unfair to him. Perhaps his "X-Men" and "Van Helsing" movies could sway me, but I have no interest in seeing any of them. I heard he was great on Broadway, starring in "The Boy From Oz," and I did see him host the Tony Awards, looking good in a tux and singing rather nicely (that latter talent not being necessary for Bond, who hasn't sung since Sean Connery warbled a few bars of "Underneath The Mango Tree" in "Dr. No."). Maybe if he bulked up a bit...but I don't think that would be enough to get my vote.

I sure wish someone from EON Productions would read my blog! (In an ideal world, they would then offer me a job with their company. That would be sweet.)

UPDATE: "The Life and Death of Peter Sellers" -- Why Do We Listen To Film Critics?

2005-01-18T11:56:00.000-08:00

At the Golden Globe Awards, presented Sunday evening, two of the big winners were:
• BEST MINI-SERIES OR MOTION PICTURE MADE FOR TELEVISION
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF PETER SELLERS (HBO)
DeMann Entertainment/Company Pictures/BBC Films/HBO Films

• BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A MINI-SERIES OR A MOTION PICTURE MADE FOR TELEVISION
GEOFFREY RUSH
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF PETER SELLERS

To all the critics that panned this great telefilm: kiss my grits.

I sometimes wonder why I bother reading film reviews; it's rare that I agree with them. Look at "Meet The Fockers" -- generally dismissed by the critics, it's grossed more than$200 million and is now among the Top 50 moneymaking movies. Of all time. Ha. Oh, and I laughed myself silly, especially when Streisand and Hoffman were on the screen. In "Meet The Parents," my first bellylaugh came early, in the scene that involved an urn, some ashes and Mr. Jinx. I honestly can't remember when "Meet The Fockers" first got the same reaction, but I know it was early (and often).

"The Aviator" looked great in the Vanity Fair cover feature a couple of issues ago. Terrific stunt casting, lots of good material to work with, and the genius of Martin Scorsese. Too bad the film didn't live up to its promise. I would have concentrated more on the characters so well portrayed (albeit briefly) by Jude "Errol Flynn" Law, Kate "Ava Gardner" Beckinsale, Alec "Juan Trippe" Baldwin, and even Gwen "Jean Harlow" Stefani. Cate Blanchett's Katharine Hepburn was good, but too much time was devoted to that one character (and even to her family). It could have been so much better. Still, it got Globes for Best Movie (Drama) and Best Actor (Drama), Leonardo DiCaprio, but remember, these Globes are awarded by the Hollywood Foreign Press Association. Oscars are voted for by industry people -- actors, directors, and the like. Not critics.

Congratulations to Geoffrey Rush and everyone involved in bringing "The Life and Death of Peter Sellers" to the small screen. I do hope you release it on DVD so more people can enjoy a great biopic of this quirky, troubled genius of an actor.

I (heart) Oprah

2005-01-14T13:43:00.000-08:00

I often tape television programs so I can zap through them without watching the commercials; even when I'm at home, for later viewing. There are two daytime dramas that I watch on tape regularly, and every now and then, I'll pause at a commercial. Usually it's for that day's Oprah Winfrey program.

Of course, by the time I'm watching the tape, that Oprah show has come and gone. Tired of kicking myself (and of being black-and-blue), I got the bright idea to add an hour to my daily taping. If the show doesn't interest me that day, I skip it.

Here's the problem: Oprah is so damn good. She's looking great, has interesting guests on the show, and just seems like such a down-to-earth, likeable person. Plus, she's a talented interviewer. I watched the two days featuring Scott Peterson-ex Amber Frey, promoting her book and answering questions about her sociopathic former lover, and was enthralled. Not because of Frey, but because she was such a lousy interview. She'd reportedly performed beautifully when on the stand at Peterson's trial, and convinced many in the jury that he was guilty, but she sure fell apart on Oprah's stage. (Had Oprah been one of the lawyers cross-examining Frey, the case would have been dismissed.) Pro that she is, Oprah used every bit of interviewing skill she has (which is considerable), quoting from specific pages of Frey's book in order to exact some form of response from the woman. Oprah comes prepared (it's rumored that many talk show hosts don't always do their homework, sometimes to the point where they haven't read the book that their guest is touting), which saved the day for all, including the studio and viewing audience.

Some years back, probably about the time that Phil Donohue wore a dress on his program, Oprah decided that she was going to focus on stories that mattered, not based on their shock value for the sake of ratings. I don't think she's veered from that standpoint. She's increased sales of new and classic books with her "Oprah's Book Club," raised consciousness about things from disease to victimization, and educated her audience. Oprah has an easy, natural rapport with strangers and celebrities alike, and it shows.

I may not have time or inclination to watch every program, but I admire and respect Oprah Winfrey.

Rediscovering Susan Isaacs

2005-01-13T13:20:00.000-08:00

Back in my college days, I was turned on to a very funny debut novel by fellow Long Islander Susan Isaacs, called "Compromising Positions." It was so fresh, with witty dialogue, an engrossing "whodunit," and a spicy affair, and I loaned it to many a dorm mate. Someone in Hollywood obviously agreed, as it was made into a movie starring Susan Sarandon, Raoul Julia, Joe Mantegna, Joan Allen (in her first feature film), and the wonderful Judith Ivey. One of those rare times when the movie and the book are both good. (Olivia Goldsmith's "The First Wives Club" comes immediately to mind. Unfortunately, Goldsmith -- whom I considered on a par with Isaacs -- died last year while undergoing plastic surgery.)

After her initial success, Isaacs wrote several more novels, movies and non-fiction works before bringing back the character of Judith Singer, introduced 23 years previously in "Compromising Positions," in a sequel, "Long Time No See." Sequels are often difficult to pull off, largely because they're always compared to the original and sometimes fall short, but this one worked. Judith Singer and other surviving characters were still witty and engaging, and a pleasure to spend time with. Call me greedy, but I'm hoping for a third installment!"

Almost Paradise" was Isaacs' third novel and one I've returned to more than once. It's a great story, with interesting characters and situations. If memory serves, it was going to be made into a mini-series or movie, but nothing ever came of that. Her next book, "Shining Through," was a spy story set during World War II, and did make it to the screen, starring Melanie Griffith and Michael Douglas. The film was so-so, but the story was great. I was recently confined to home with a nasty cold, so I was able to catch up on many of the new books I'd purchased. When I got bored with that, I looked through my bookcases and came upon "Shining Through." I'm about 3/4 through it (going back to work has sort of cramped my leisure time style), and loving every minute.

Do yourself a favor and pick up copies of "Compromising Positions," "Almost Paradise," "Shining Through" and "Long Time No See." You will be glad that you did.

Jeff Buckley (why you should know this name)

2005-01-12T13:08:00.000-08:00

Back around 1994-96, a friend of mine worked at one of the major record labels, for one of the company's legendary A&R (Artist & Repertoire) men. I used to go visit her at lunchtime, a nice stroll up Madison Avenue, and just gab about music. (Naturally, she held one of my dream jobs!) She would load me up with promo CDs and turn me on to new artists. I think the best thing I ever came away with was Jeff Buckley's first studio album, "Grace." One afternoon I was up at her office and she tried to convince me to come to an artist event at downtown's Tower Records, and I said, nope, it's raining, maybe next time. Well, I missed the chance to see and hear Jeff Buckley (and probably meet him, too) and later realized what a hard lesson I'd learned. NEVER pass up an opportunity.

You see, Jeff Buckley died in 1997, while recording his second studio album in Memphis. He and some pals were out carousing, and were reportedly a bit drunk. Somehow they ended up by the Mississippi River, and Jeff ended up in it. The current was strong and Jeff was lost. I followed this online (probably the first news event that I watched unfold in this fashion), as the search continued for days. Unfortunately, Jeff did not survive.

In the eight years since his passing, Jeff has probably become more well-known than before. His mother, Mary Guibert, helps make this possible by publishing an on-line newsletter, with links to Jeff-related events, news from around the globe about Jeff Buckley tributes, a Q&A section, and much more (to subscribe, free, go to http://www.jeffbuckley.com/newsletter, and you'll get the Jeff Buckley International Newsletter). It also keeps you up to date on any upcoming CD or DVD releases.

OK, great, you may be thinking, but I still don't know why Jeff Buckley matters. He matters because he was an artist cut down probably before he reached his prime, who possessed a beautiful, sometimes ethereal voice, and pure musical talent. He wasn't afraid to venture into genres other than rock (among the songs he covered were Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah," Arlen/Gershwin's "The Man That Got Away" - associated primarily with Judy Garland, and even a couple of Edith Piaf numbers. He also did a wicked version of the MC5's "Kick Out The Jams."). His father was a folk troubadour of the 1960s & 70s, Tim Buckley, who also died relatively young, but Jeff honed his natural talent with a lot of hard work and study.

Courtesy of my friend at the record company, I was able to pass along several copies of "Grace" to my more musically-inclined friends, and they all fell in love. One had formed a band, and would tell me from time to time how much Buckley influenced their music. He wasn't alone. The Jeff Buckley International Newsletter constantly gets letters from fans around the world, saying how much they've been touched by Jeff's music, including many who discovered him years after his death. Several of his songs have turned up through the years on movie or television soundtracks (especially the first season of "The Dead Zone") and he even rated an exhibition at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame a couple of years ago.

Right now I'm listening to "Mystery White Boy: Live '95~'96," a concert album that was released in 2000. It's a good showcase of his broad range, recorded in the U.S., Australia, Germany and France. However, if you've never heard of Jeff Buckley before now, listen to the "Grace" album. It still ranks high on American and foreign lists of important/influential recordings, more than a decade after its release and eight years after his passing. That should give you some idea of what a talent Jeff Buckley was - and why you should give him a listen. You won't be disappointed.

Ripping this off from Aunt Slappy's blog, sorta

2005-01-07T08:07:00.000-08:00

Things I Did In 2004:
1. Visited a dying friend in Massachusetts. I learned a lot from that weekend: strength, kindness, and the true power of love. My friend (who was technically one of my late mother's best friends, but I adored her) spent the last days of her life with dignity and joy, surrounded by her loving and devoted children (who conducted themselves with enviable grace and strength throughout), and enjoying last visits with other loved ones. Frankly, I was terrified to pay what I knew would be my last visit, because I didn't know what to expect. I came away from the experience filled with awe and love, and so thankful that I had made the journey. For the next few weeks, I remained in constant contact, relaying the message "I love you" through whomever answered the phone when she was too weak to talk. My last call was made ten minutes before she passed, and her daughter called me immediately afterward. Two days later, in the Jewish tradition, we buried one of the most wonderful people I've ever known, Ruth Bleier Harris. She left behind three children, four grandchildren, many dear friends, and a legacy of love.

2. Went to Bette Midler's "Kiss My Brass" show at the Continental Arena in New Jersey. What a performance! Midler was in peak performance shape, with a voice that was as strong at the end as in the beginning. And I don't think she skipped any of her fans' favorite tunes.

3. Met George Taft, a long-time friend of both my mother and Ruthie, dating back to elementary school. He's now an architect in Atlanta and has been on the design teams responsible for many of that city's landmark projects, including the Olympic facilities, Turner Field, and much more. It's wonderful to tour a city with one of its architects; you learn far more interesting details than you would otherwise. We had a great time, and it was easy to see why that friendship endured for so long. I was in Atlanta for a trade show, but left early because...

4. I went to the hospital at the end of March, quite unexpectedly! After flying up from Atlanta, where I had started losing blood, I went to the doctor, who said, "Your blood count is so low, I'm sending you to the E.R., not the G.I." I checked into North Shore Hospital via the E.R. and was asked when was the last time I'd been admitted. "Well, I guess about 40 years ago, when I was born here!" They looked up my records and gave me the same patient number I had then (it was a pretty low number)! After several hours waiting for a bed to be freed up, and many frantic calls to friends and neighbors, alternately asking them to feed my cats and "break me outta here," I was settled into a room, where I remained for about two days. Unhappily, because I felt fine, other than the fact that I kept losing blood. If my cousin Lynn hadn't come by with some books the day after I was admitted, I would have lost my mind. (As it happened, I had passed a Barnes & Noble on the way to the hospital and went in to get some reading material, something most people being sent directly to the E.R. would not do, but, hey, I get bored.) They finally sprang me Saturday, around noon-time (I'd been captive since Thursday afternoon), and I snuck out to my car, drove home (yeah, I know, you're supposed to be picked up, but I'd had enough of their rules), filled my scrips, and was happily reunited with Moochie and Scraps. (Spunky Bastard was not yet on the scene.)

5. Learned that it's really not a good idea to take Advil Cold & Sinus twice a day, every day, for a couple of years. That's what landed me in the hospital, caused the bleeding, made me endure a couple of rather invasive tests, and determined that I had diverticulosis. Yikes. Those OTC medicines can really mess you up when you ignore their warning. Be afraid.

6. Had another fun girls' weekend in fabulous Bethany Beach, Delaware. Great place, even off-season. And fantastic, no-tax outlet shopping in nearby Rehobeth Beach. Good thing we took a minivan.

7. Saw "Hairspray," during the last two weeks of Harvey Fierstein and Kathy Brier's performances. Loved it, loved them. Sent a nice note, a program, and a stamped, self-addressed envelope to Mr. Fierstein, and he sent back a lovely autographed program. I'm having it framed. He is sublime. Naturally, I bought the CD, which I listened to constantly, and determined that I preferred Kathy Brier's singing to the original actress'. You can catch Kathy Brier on "One Life to Live," but I don't think she does any singing. Too bad.

8. Traveled to Fort Worth for a convention. Ugh. Constant rain, making a trip to see the Kennedy Assassination Tour in Dallas impossible. Therefore, no reason to be in Fort Worth. I'm sure there are lovely parts of the city, but all I saw was rain, a wet Convention Center, a hotel, and a few good restaurants.

9. Had my tiny backyard relandscaped and the shed replaced. What a job. Fortunately, all I had to do was pay for it.

10. Learned how to make red wine shallot reduction, perfect with grilled steaks (preferably hanger steaks or filet mignon). Served it several times over the summer and did not get sick of it once. The only drag is prepping the shallots. Otherwise, it's surprisingly easy.

11. Joined the gym! In July I started the first of many workouts to come with Personal Trainer Extroidinaire Ivy. She kicks my butt, but she'll eventually have less of that to kick.

12. Went to my first country concert, Wynnona, at Planting Fields Arboretum in Oyster Bay. I had seen her on "Oprah" and was blown away by the power and beauty of her voice. When I learned she would be at Planting Fields, I immediately got tickets. What's cool is that for $20 or so, you can get lawn seating and can bring a picnic supper and wine. People were actually competing for the title of best supper. Now I know what to do next time (was planning to go to Peter Frampton the next month, but it was raining heavily). Wynnona was terrific. What a voice. I'll see her again.

13. Adopted Spunky Bastard (see previous posts from December 2004).

14. Marked the first year without my mother. Sad. I wallowed for a day (the anniversary date). We Irish tend to do that. Okay, I'm only part Irish, but I wallowed anyway.

15. Traveled to Paris with my aunts Patricia and Judy and cousin Lynn. Had a blast. This was the first time I hadn't been there on business, the fifth visit overall, and it was fantastic. We stayed in a part of the city that was new to me, and it was perfectly situated (The Latin Quarter) and convenient to much of what we wanted to do. I proudly showed off my skill with the Metro system and we went all over the place (although most of the time we walked). On our last night, we had a magnificent dinner at La Tour d'Argent, whose owner, Claude Terrail, came over to speak to us. He probably noticed the bottle of Chateau Talbot 1970 that was at our table. We'll be back!

16. Started this blog, one of the best things I've done for myself. A week later, I was invited to become a contributing columnist to "Eye On Soaps," one of the best websites on the 'Net. I'm having a great time with it, and love being part of the EOS team. You can check out the site under the Links section of the sidebar on this page. If you like ABC soaps, this is truly the place to be. And I'm really psyched that several of the EOS staff will be attending the GH Fan Club Weekend in Studio City, CA this coming July. I've packed my bag, I'm ready to go (OK, quick, name the song I just quoted...)

17. Survived the holidays.

18. Chaperoned a college-age New Year's Party. The party kept going until 5am (or later). I'm too old for this shit.

Alias: Why The Hell Haven't I Been Watching This Show?

2005-01-06T11:30:00.000-08:00

First, I apologize for not blogging lately. The holidays threw a monkey wrench into my regular schedule, and a nasty, long-lasting head cold threw another, larger, monkey wrench into my holidays. But I'm back now and ready to blog away...

When "Alias" burst onto the airwaves in 2001, I tried to watch it, but found myself often confused with the plot twists and abrupt changes in venue. At the same time, there was another new spy show, "Thieves," starring John Stamos and Rebecca George (who later joined "Alias," I should've taken the hint) which was easier to follow and a lot of fun. Unfortunately, it was canceled mid-season.

In an effort to grow its audience, when "Alias" came back on the schedule (I believe it was directly following the 2003 Super Bowl), it promised that new viewers could jump in and understand what was going on, even though if you had missed an episode or two in previous seasons, you'd be lost. I didn't take the bait then, but after hearing my friends Nina and Glenn rave about the show, I decided it was time to take the plunge. And the numerous promos that ABC has been airing these past weeks didn't hurt, either. This Tuesday, I gave Nina a call:

Me: "Hey, Ninja, how's it going?"
Nina: "Can't really talk, I'm trying to put the kids down for the night."
Me: "Figures. My timing usually sucks. Quick question: "Alias" starts tomorrow. I haven't watched it. Should I?"
Nina: "ABSOLUTELY! And if you don't get something, call me or Glenn and we'll fill you in!"
Me: "Cool, thanks."

Last night was it: the two-hour season premiere. I turned it on right as it started and was engrossed. Expertly and expensively filmed, it was as close to a James Bond film as anything I've seen (even closer than those two horrible Timothy Dalton Bond movies!). It even had a former Bond villain, Rick "Die Another Day" Yune, and the fabulous Angela Bassett. And Jennifer Garner was fantastic. She morphs effortlessly into her various spy roles and kicks butt just as easily. Plus, she's a good actress. I'd seen her in "13 Going On 30," and thought she was quite talented, but her portrayal of Sydney is superb. She's aided and abetted by an excellent supporting cast and terrific writing, not to mention great production and attention to detail. From what I've read, it cost about $3.5 million to produce the two-hour season opener, and it certainly looked like it. That number may even be lower than the true figure. Money well spent. I'm hooked, and am looking forward to next week. In fact, it was so good that I will probably end up buying the previous seasons on DVD. I'm not sure when I'll have time to watch them all, but have no doubt that I'll manage it. I feel a head cold coming on...

Here Comes Karen Claus

2004-12-21T13:13:00.000-08:00

Natural Grinchiness aside, I'm amazed to report that not only do I have every single Christmas present I need (and probably some I don't), all save four are wrapped and labeled! Unfortunately, time constraints prohibited me from creating a Christmas CD for friends (that, plus the fact that I have yet to organize my massive music collection since it was moved nearly one year ago), but I'll just have to do a truly excellent one for 2005. Anyway, those who know me well also know that I recently put about everything I have into a tribute CD I created to memorialize someone special. Burn-out? Maybe. Nevertheless, thanks to Amazon and Signals/Wireless, my only in-store shopping was done via several lunchtime trips to Target and CostCo, plus I started early. Even the felines are taken care of (and you try to keep catnip hidden away from ferocious beasts like mine...difficult, but not impossible!).

Another day and a half and I'm on vacation until January 4. These upcoming days will be filled with merriment, old friends, trips to the gym and continued postings on this site. OK, maybe I won't be posting every day, but I'll do my best. There are sure to be antics/events worth sharing from this holiday break.

Old Favorites and a Wee Bit of Synchronicity

2004-12-20T13:12:00.000-08:00

A couple of months ago, while surfing Amazon.com to find some new DVDs, I found that both "Foul Play" and "Silver Streak" were going to be released before Christmas. I immediately pre-ordered them and watched them over the weekend. (They arrived a few days before Christmas, making it much merrier.)

Both are ensemble comedies from 1976. "Foul Play" stars Goldie Hawn and Chevy Chase (in his first major movie role -- I think he may have appeared before in "Kentucky Fried Movie") and also has Burgess (tv Batman's "Penguin") Meredith, Eugene Roche, Rachel Roberts, Billy Barty, perennial mobster Marc Lawrence (among his many credits are two Bond films, "Diamonds Are Forever" and "The Man With The Golden Gun"), and a young Brian Dennehy. And Dudley Moore made a huge impression in "Foul Play," prior to his breakout roles in "10" and "Arthur." He's hilarious. "Silver Streak" players include Gene Wilder, Jill Clayburgh, Richard Pryor, Ned Beatty, Scatman Crothers, Richard Kiel (another Bond vet -- "Jaws!"), Fred Willard, Ray Walston, and Patrick McGoohan.

Here's where synchronicity kicks in: both were written by Colin Higgins (and he also directed "Foul Play")! In retrospect, I should have remembered that. Higgins' first hit was the dark comedy classic "Harold and Maude;" one of his last was "Nine to Five." He wrote the screenplays for both and also directed the latter. Unfortunately, he was stricken with AIDS and died in 1988. (Thanks to imdb.com for the info.) Snappy dialogue and wacky ensemble comedy was his trademark -- he paid homage to the screwball classics of early film, as well as film noir elements -- and both "Foul Play" and "Silver Streak" are loaded with some of his best work. Check them out (along with "Harold and Maude" and "Nine to Five"). You won't be sorry.

Stuff That Makes Me Feel Less Grinch-y

2004-12-17T13:53:00.000-08:00

1. "Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol" (1962) AND "The Littlest Angel" (1969) are now available on DVD! (Check Amazon.com.) These were two of my favorite childhood Christmas specials, and both disappeared from television (until last year, when the Cartoon Network started showing the Magoo classic). For those of you who don't remember the first one, just think "razzleberry dressing," and it may all come back. As for the latter, it starred Johnnie Whitaker (Jodie on "Family Affair"..."Uncle BEEELL! Uncle BEEELL!") and Fred "Herman Munster" Gwynne, among others. As childhood Christmas memories are the best ones, these evoke some very pleasant times.
2. Peppermint stick ice cream is back! It used to be a staple at Baskin-Robbins and Friendly's, but times and tastes have changed, I suppose. Pair it up with chocolate sprinkles/jimmies or hot fudge and I'm in taste bud heaven.
3. Bro' Scott (along with wife Katy, son Karl, and daughter Shannon) is performing in a music recital tomorrow (little Mary Elizabeth is still too little). I get to heckle Scott. Christmas comes early. And an afternoon spent with the three cutest, smartest and most wonderful children (and their parents) is an afternoon well spent. It doesn't happen often enough.
4. Spunky Bastard, sans 'nads, is turning into a momma's boy. He is even trying to edge Moochie out of quality lap time. Trouble's a-brewin'. But having cats fight over which one gets to warm your body and purr is never a bad thing. Bring 'em on!
5. Snow is predicted for Sunday night into Monday morning. Can anyone say "SNOW DAY?"
6. Thanksgiving Stupid Teenage Tricks with Cousin Matt will turn into Christmas Stupid Teenage Tricks. We've already started stockpiling little foil-wrapped Christmas chocolates for ammunition. I think they need to be stored in the freezer for extra impact.
7. I can wear my tie-dyed Grinch t-shirt for a few days.
8. Bye-bye to the office for nine days straight.

Ho, ho, ho!

The Adventures of Spunky Bastard (Part III)

2004-12-16T13:28:00.000-08:00

I picked up Spunky B. from the vet last night, and was he glad to come home. My vet and his entire staff are wonderful, but I think he prefers his creature comforts at our apartment over a cage in a cat hospital. Of course Moochie hissed at him continually, as he had that cat hospital smell about him (or maybe she was disappointed that he'd returned), but Scraps welcomed him back. He showed no ill effects from the declawing and was scampering about just like his old self. Well...perhaps not ALL of his old self. I glanced at his nether regions and saw that tiny M&Ms were in the spot where small Peppermint Patties once...hung. Ouch.

He was a little purr box this morning, not wanting me to leave him. Truth be told, I would have gladly stayed, but I think my employers might have had issues with that. He's probably chasing Moochie and Scraps with wild abandon and getting very frustrated when he realizes his shredding days are over. And that's a good thing.

The Next James Bond?

2004-12-15T13:31:00.000-08:00

Now that Pierce Brosnan's negotiations with EON Productions, the company that has the Bond franchise, have come to an end, the question is: who will fill his formidable shoes? I can't believe that Barbara Broccoli (daughter of original Bond producer, Harry) and her husband, Michael G. Wilson (who got his start as a Bond writer, then producer) would not do whatever was necessary to keep him. He's still young, rugged and virile enough (early 50s) to continue for at least two more films. Roger Moore was Bond when I started seeing the movies, so I hold a soft spot for him in my heart, but he really was pushing the envelope by the time he made his last appearance in the series, in "View To A Kill." He was OK in long shots, but close-ups were...painful. He was still a handsome man, but a bit long in the tooth to play Bond. His replacement, Timothy Dalton, nearly killed the Bond franchise (and that's not just me talking, that's a quote, but I can't remember to whom it should be attributed). Pierce Brosnan took over in 1995 in "Goldeneye," and was terrific. The irony of the whole thing is that he should have taken over when Moore retired. At the time, he was starring in "Remington Steele" for the NBC network, and was offered the role of Bond. NBC, seeing what a hot property they had, refused to let him out of his contract for the tv show. EON ended up with Timothy Dalton and "Remington Steele" didn't make it onto the next primetime schedule. It was cancelled, thus creating a double whammy for Brosnan and EON. Not to mention Bond fans like myself.

Before going further, I guess I should disclose that I am pretty much a Bond fanatic. My first cell phone was the horribly overpriced Ericsson model that came with a couple of Bond-type accessories and was not worth the extra expense. I own the soundtracks (both on LP and CD), the books, books about the character/films, all the movies (first on VHS, now on DVD), and have some framed posters in my office. Through the kindness of a friend, I attended the "Goldeneye" world premiere at Radio City Music Hall in November 1995, where not only did I have a VIP screening, but the chance to see the cast appear onstage, bantering with each other, before the film was shown. A most memorable evening.

So now that Brosnan has decided not to re-sign with EON, a bunch of possible replacements have been named in the press. The one that most disturbs me is Jude Law. He may be People's Sexiest Man of the Year, but he hardly raises the temperature on my thermometer. No, no, no. Pierce Brosnan has suggested Colin Farrell, but I think he's a tad too young at this time (and doesn't seem interested). I choked when I read that Eric Bana ("The Incredible Hulk" movie) was being considered, but thawed slightly after seeing him in "Troy." However, he was recently quoted in New York magazine, and his reaction to his possible casting was NOT positive. (Fool.) Hugh Jackman would probably welcome the role, but I just can't see him as Bond. Rupert Everett joked with the folks at New York, saying, "Well, you KNOW why they won't ask ME!" Yeah, I guess the world isn't ready for a gay James Bond.

Who should be the next man to carry a Walther-PPK? I've wracked my brain and so far have come up with only one name: Ewan McGregor. He's handsome, looks good in and out of a tux, and has a nice accent. OK, he's younger than the average Bond, but I'll allow it. (Hugh Grant came to mind briefly, but he's not edgy enough. Liam Neeson is too strong a presence to step into the character.) If you saw "Trainspotting," you know McGregor can be dodgy. In "Little Voice," he was sweet and charming. His versatility was showcased in "Moulin Rouge," and his physicality in the "Star Wars" prequel. In "Down With Love," McGregor demonstrated a flair for light comedy and wore a tux very easily. (He probably drank martinis in that one as well!).

Ewan McGregor has my vote for casting as the next James Bond, but I'd love to hear your ideas. Please post them, and when I have enough, I'll write about this again. In this case I'd prefer to be stirred, not shaken.

Updates: Two Sociopaths and a Spunky Bastard

2004-12-14T07:39:00.000-08:00

1. As proof that justice does still prevail, yesterday saw Danny Pelosi convicted of second degree murder in the death of Ted Ammon (whose widow subsequently married Pelosi, but that's another story entirely) and Scott Peterson was given the ultimate sentence by the jury in the penalty phase of his trial: death. Of course, given that the appeals process can take decades, who knows how long it will be before the sentence is meted out -- if ever. Until then, he will be moved to San Quentin (which overlooks San Francisco Bay, where the bodies of Laci and Connor were dumped) and his arrival will be announced to all with the words, "Dead man walking." I thought that was simply a movie title, but I guess not.

Now it would be nice if the appeals process were to be overhauled. And I don't think California is the only state with such a problem.

2. Spunky B. is bouncing back (literally) from his surgery. The vet techs report that he's eating like a horse and trying to break out of his cage, even though he's running a slight fever. That's my boy! They suggested that I not visit before his release date (Wednesday night), as they're afraid he'll get too excited and really try to break free. I've been told that his "full name" is going to be written on his charts. Guess they won't miss him!

Moochie and Scraps seemed quite content to have me all to themselves last night. We'll have one more night of peace (and the ability to wrap Christmas presents without the paper being slashed) this evening, for which I'm truly grateful. Then, the return of Destructo Boy. Things will be back to normal, but better, as he won't be wreaking havoc on furniture, papers, boxes or screen doors, nor will he be attempting to rape Moochie. More things to put on the "grateful" list.

"The Life and Death of Peter Sellers"

2004-12-13T11:35:00.000-08:00

This made-for-HBO movie bio was given major thumbs-down in every review I read, but as a "Pink Panther" fan with some general knowledge of Sellers' life, I taped it anyway. And I'm glad I did.

Casting of the three best-known characters in the movie was superb. Geoffrey Rush turned in a stellar performance as Peter Sellers. He became the man. (If you wonder why I referred to myself as a "Pink Panther" fan rather than a "Peter Sellers" fan, it's because, after watching this movie, I realized I have not seen enough of his work. The breadth of the roles he played is just astounding.) John Lithgow played director Blake Edwards, and from what I know of Edwards, Lithgow's portrayal was on the mark. Charlize Theron was breathtaking as Swedish sexpot Britt Ekland, the best-known of Sellers' wives.

I think the reviews were so scathing because of the segments where Sellers/Rush would speak/dress as one of the influential persons in his life. Okay, it was a cheesy device, but the movie was so much more than those few annoying bits. From this movie, I learned how Sellers made the transition from radio to film, and also that there are several movies of his that I must see: "The Mouse That Roared" (for which he received the Bafta award for best actor, the British equivalent of the Oscar), "Dr. Strangelove," and "Being There."

I've not liked most of Rush's movies, but he got my respect with his uncanny performance as Peter Sellers. It's definitely worth seeing. HBO will probably release it on DVD/VHS next year, and I hope they do, as it would be a shame to deny non-HBO subscribers the pleasure of seeing this biography. If it's not released, I'll sic Inspector Clouseau on them!

The Adventures of Spunky Bastard (Part II)

2004-12-13T10:44:00.000-08:00

Today I did something that just might take some of the spunk out of Spunky Bastard...brought him to the vet for neutering and de-clawing (front claws only). No more will he climb up the inside of the screen door...slash the bag holding my lunch (then eat said lunch)...scale the heights of my wicker lingerie chest, then wreak havoc on closet shelves.

Of course, this doesn't mean he won't continue one of his newest tricks. I went to Bed, Bath & Beyond to buy one of those over-priced stainless-steel cylindrical garbage cans, with foot-operated lid, as Spunky B. was happily frolicking in the uncovered garbage. He wasn't happy. He first showed his displeasure by slashing at the exposed part of the can liner, expertly shredding the plastic and scattering it around the kitchen. Not long after that, he managed his best trick to date. One evening, I had disposed of the remains of a steak dinner, then returned to the kitchen a few minutes later. All of a sudden, BANG! The lid of the garbage can flew open, and up popped Spunky, like a little jack-in-the-box, a piece of steak hanging out of his mouth! Yes, now he knows how to pry open the lid, the little bugger. Lack of claws won't stop this from continuing.

This past weekend, as he was shredding the outside of an unpacked box in my bedroom at 6 am (trying to get me to feed him), I just smiled and thought, that's the last box you'll be destroying, you little shit. I crooned a little ditty to him, a special little number I came up with just for that weekend: "No more balls...no more claws...no more balls...no more claws."

In about an hour, I'll be able to call the vet to see how Spunky B. tolerated the surgery. That is, if my vet wasn't eviscerated by Spunky in the process ("You're doing WHAT to me? Here's my Puss-in-Boots imitation! SLASH"). Even though he's a Spunky Bastard, I'm rather fond of the little guy. I just hope I don't have to change vets.