In my (occasional) generous moments, I actually feel a pang of pity for the glitterati, given the negative attention they suffer at the pens of the paparazzi. Look at poor Britney-- living on a paltry $700,000 a year and having to endure photos plastered across the web of a certain view revealing - well, too much! Honestly, on her budget, it is certainly conceivable that she simply could not afford clean undies on that particular night. But I am off-task here.
As I suggested, my moments of pity are rare-- generally my thoughts are that the “privileged” who suffer the bad press bring it on themselves.
Consider an event on Thanksgiving morning: one of the networks, in their zest to “cover-it-all” at the scene of the Macy’s Day Parade, invited a particular day-time TV starlet to appear briefly in the anchor booth. Somehow (perhaps because of the actress’s big mouth) the talking heads learned that this lady had recently become engaged. Naturally, the anchors pressed for details, hoping for a “Big Scoop.” (The definition of “news” has, of late, become rather foggy, but again, I digress.)
THE detail the talking heads wanted to glum onto was the name of the lucky fellow. The actress demurred: “It’s a secret,” she said. But the intrepid reporters pressed on: “WHO is the lucky guy,” they implored. The actress smiled sweetly and deflected the questions as long as possible. But the inquisition persisted. Finally, some details emerged.
First, the BIG MOMENT- the presentation of the ring- occurred while she was rummaging through her closet pissing and moaning about her ill-fitting jeans. THEN, it comes out that “the guy” is not in “The Business.” No typical Hollywood romance here. This gal is engaged to a fellow “in the insurance business in New Jersey. He is with his family firm.” A family insurance business in New Jersey! His name is a secret! Geez - could she make it any clearer?
That little bit of revelation is all the Paparazzi needs to flesh out countless tabloid articles. Lest the pen-twirlers have had too much turkey to think clearly, I humbly offer these suggestions: (And remember, readers, you saw it here first!)
1. Day-time soap star pregnant. Her first clue came during a mad dash for clothes to wear on a recent date.
2. Day-time soap star’s mother shocked to learn on National TV on Thanksgiving Day that her daughter is living with Jersey boy in New York.
3. Day-time Emmy Winning Soap Actress engaged to New Jersey Mobster.
4. Third wife of Louis Linquini found in East River. FBI’s probes day-time actress as potential co-conspirator.
5. Soap Starlet’s brother soon to be arraigned for the attempted murder of New Jersey mobster, said to be motivated by the dishonor of his sister.
6. And, looking some years into the future: “Police continue their search for former Soap Star. They are currently dragging the East River… She is the fourth wife of Louis Linquini who calmly claims desperation and depression over her three week absence.”
Now, lest you suffer a “generous moment” and pity the poor young lass this negative attention, remember- she brought it on herself. If she had simply made her appearance at the announcers’ booth and chatted about her family scattered across the country and how much she misses them and her plans for a nice microwave dinner in her apartment, none of this would have happened. But she had to be “sly” with details of her exciting news. You asked for it, doll-face. Happy Holidays.
Yep, some of us even work on Thanksgiving. My Christmas giving- at least to the press-- is done!
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Giving Thanks for Friends
Now - on to the next e-mail. This one isn’t quite so annoying cuz it’s a great story. BUT - it still arrives as a “forward,” with no personal note. The sender gets three bananas for thinking I would enjoy it, but loses two cuz he didn’t say “Geez, Dad, how ya doing? Hope you enjoy this.” How much time would that take?!!!!
I’m late with this. It was started around in honor of National Friends Week. (Never heard of it - but it’s a good idea.) Seems to me every week ought to be “Friends Week.” In any case, if you have friends like this, you have a lot to be thankful for. Pass it on-- but PLEASE- at least say “hi” to your recipients!
AND - Happy Thanksgiving!
______________
One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books.
I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd."
I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends) so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.
As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes. My heart went out to him, so, I jogged over as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye. As I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives."
He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!" There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.
I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now. I would have never hung out with a private school kid before. We talked all the way home, and I carried some of his books.
He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends.
He said yes.
We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him. Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again.
I stopped him and said, "Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!” He just laughed and handed me half the books.
Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor and I was going for business on a football scholarship.
Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak.
Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him. Boy, sometimes I was jealous! Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech, so, I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!"
He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. " Thanks," he said.
As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began: "Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach, but mostly your friends... I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story."
I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile. "Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable."
I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his Mom and Dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize its depth. Never underestimate the power of your actions.
With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse.
God puts us all in each others’ lives to impact one another in some way. Look for God in others.
"Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly."
I’m late with this. It was started around in honor of National Friends Week. (Never heard of it - but it’s a good idea.) Seems to me every week ought to be “Friends Week.” In any case, if you have friends like this, you have a lot to be thankful for. Pass it on-- but PLEASE- at least say “hi” to your recipients!
AND - Happy Thanksgiving!
______________
One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books.
I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd."
I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends) so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.
As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes. My heart went out to him, so, I jogged over as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye. As I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives."
He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!" There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.
I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now. I would have never hung out with a private school kid before. We talked all the way home, and I carried some of his books.
He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends.
He said yes.
We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him. Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again.
I stopped him and said, "Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!” He just laughed and handed me half the books.
Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor and I was going for business on a football scholarship.
Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak.
Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him. Boy, sometimes I was jealous! Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech, so, I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!"
He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. " Thanks," he said.
As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began: "Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach, but mostly your friends... I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story."
I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile. "Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable."
I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his Mom and Dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize its depth. Never underestimate the power of your actions.
With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse.
God puts us all in each others’ lives to impact one another in some way. Look for God in others.
"Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly."
Friday, November 16, 2007
He's Back!
Okay! Okay! Here I am. The leather straps and electric shocks were a bit much, eh? I suppose it worked--my handler has me back in line (on-line? Whatever!)
For the record, I most certainly have NOT been misbehaving. I have simply been BEhaving elsewhere. I have been out fetching bananas ahead of the coming winter and generally scratching myself (read: fretting.)
I have suggested in the past that this notebook will concern travel in the PUC, writing and other stuff. The next few posts will concern the “other stuff.” Then I will go back and review my last trip of the season (if I don’t start MISbehaving again. HA.)
First off - the good news: Hollywood writers are on strike. Why is that good? Cuz most of what they produce is crap anyway-- tailored in sound bites to be sandwiched between intelligence-insulting commercials that never end. Here’s how to deal with this strike when the reruns start.
READ A BOOK!
No commercials. It’s there when you want it. You can slow down or speed up. Maybe, if we all go back to reading books for our entertainment we will learn how to think again and someday the world will be a better place for that effort. The last writer’s strike was estimated to cause a 10% permanent loss in TV viewership. Let’s shoot for 20% this time! YEAH!
While I have been screwing around, a couple gig full of e-mail piled up. The first one worthy of the recycle bin concerns one of those surveys that get forwarded from friends and relatives. You’ve seen them. The sender just forwards something they received and demands a response. Nothing personal, really; No “how ya doing?” or “I’m broke but fine” personal note. Just “ANSWER THIS or your scum.” Okay, I’ll try to answer. This one came under the subject heading of “FOUR THINGS.” It starts as follows.
Four Things about me! Things you may not have known about me....
Then it goes on to inquire about 14 different areas of the recipients’ preferences (which, if you do the math-- my handler did it for me-- comes out to FIFTY SIX things.) I suppose some of this might be considered a “personal note” but it seems fairly canned.
Now- suppose I answer all this stuff? THEN- say in 2016- I come out as a presidential candidate (at the current rate, by 2016 everyone else will already have run-- I might have to jump in!)
Okay, it’s a stretch- but let’s say it happens. Someone will dig out this e-mail and find out that in 2007 I said my favorite color was RED. Who is that going to offend in 2016? Or, suppose I list my favorite car as a BMW, but in 2016 Germany is on someone’s poop-list. Or - I say Ford and in 2016 Ford is out of business? Then I look pretty stupid. Then what? Ya see the problem? A guy can’t be too careful with how he responds to these things.
There are other problems with surveys like this: It asks for four favorite colors. Okay- with regards to WHAT? Black can be beautiful-- but black skies are worrisome and black bananas nasty. Blue skies are wonderful and blue jeans comfy-- blue houses and blue moods not so good. Yellow bananas are perfect-- yellow snow yucky. I own a brown truck but browns lawns can get you a ticket in some cities. I like green lawns and money-- green growth in the fridge is really bad news.
Then, there are “good books,” and “favorite movies” and “T.V. shows,” and stuff like that. I have a terrible time answering that kind of stuff. The answers are too dependant on my mood. Who wants to watch “M.A.S.H.” when they’re trying to think of romance? Or- “Mr. Holland’s Opus” when they’re mad at the world? Ya see? And, the whole survey is flawed anyway-- it does not ask for “four favorite songs.” What kind of survey is THAT? And speaking of songs-- my favorite genre is country, but you won’t find any country songs on my list of great songs-- at least not if I’m limited to four-- or even six! (See below!)
You get my point. How ya suppose to answer this with any kind of certainty?
I will try a couple of them, just to break the ice here:
Four places I have lived: Mokelumne Hill, CA; Shemya, Alaska; Vincenza, Italy; Sembach, Germany.
Four favorite movies: (a/o today.) Paint Your Wagon, Mr. Holland’s Opus, Lonesome Dove, The Longest Day.
Four great songs: “I Left My Heart in San Francisco,” (Tony Bennett.) “My Way,” Frank Sinatra.) “Changes in Latitude,” (Jimmy Buffet.) “For What It’s Worth,” (Buffalo Springfield.) “Seasons in the Sun,” (Terry Jacks.) “Washington Post March” (Sousa.)
Okay - so that’ six. Ya see? These surveys are impossible!
I’m gonna go scratch. I’d love to hear about four of your favorite things-- but I’m not going to send you a canned e-mail demanding a response!
Happy Bananas (yellow.)
For the record, I most certainly have NOT been misbehaving. I have simply been BEhaving elsewhere. I have been out fetching bananas ahead of the coming winter and generally scratching myself (read: fretting.)
I have suggested in the past that this notebook will concern travel in the PUC, writing and other stuff. The next few posts will concern the “other stuff.” Then I will go back and review my last trip of the season (if I don’t start MISbehaving again. HA.)
First off - the good news: Hollywood writers are on strike. Why is that good? Cuz most of what they produce is crap anyway-- tailored in sound bites to be sandwiched between intelligence-insulting commercials that never end. Here’s how to deal with this strike when the reruns start.
READ A BOOK!
No commercials. It’s there when you want it. You can slow down or speed up. Maybe, if we all go back to reading books for our entertainment we will learn how to think again and someday the world will be a better place for that effort. The last writer’s strike was estimated to cause a 10% permanent loss in TV viewership. Let’s shoot for 20% this time! YEAH!
While I have been screwing around, a couple gig full of e-mail piled up. The first one worthy of the recycle bin concerns one of those surveys that get forwarded from friends and relatives. You’ve seen them. The sender just forwards something they received and demands a response. Nothing personal, really; No “how ya doing?” or “I’m broke but fine” personal note. Just “ANSWER THIS or your scum.” Okay, I’ll try to answer. This one came under the subject heading of “FOUR THINGS.” It starts as follows.
Four Things about me! Things you may not have known about me....
Then it goes on to inquire about 14 different areas of the recipients’ preferences (which, if you do the math-- my handler did it for me-- comes out to FIFTY SIX things.) I suppose some of this might be considered a “personal note” but it seems fairly canned.
Now- suppose I answer all this stuff? THEN- say in 2016- I come out as a presidential candidate (at the current rate, by 2016 everyone else will already have run-- I might have to jump in!)
Okay, it’s a stretch- but let’s say it happens. Someone will dig out this e-mail and find out that in 2007 I said my favorite color was RED. Who is that going to offend in 2016? Or, suppose I list my favorite car as a BMW, but in 2016 Germany is on someone’s poop-list. Or - I say Ford and in 2016 Ford is out of business? Then I look pretty stupid. Then what? Ya see the problem? A guy can’t be too careful with how he responds to these things.
There are other problems with surveys like this: It asks for four favorite colors. Okay- with regards to WHAT? Black can be beautiful-- but black skies are worrisome and black bananas nasty. Blue skies are wonderful and blue jeans comfy-- blue houses and blue moods not so good. Yellow bananas are perfect-- yellow snow yucky. I own a brown truck but browns lawns can get you a ticket in some cities. I like green lawns and money-- green growth in the fridge is really bad news.
Then, there are “good books,” and “favorite movies” and “T.V. shows,” and stuff like that. I have a terrible time answering that kind of stuff. The answers are too dependant on my mood. Who wants to watch “M.A.S.H.” when they’re trying to think of romance? Or- “Mr. Holland’s Opus” when they’re mad at the world? Ya see? And, the whole survey is flawed anyway-- it does not ask for “four favorite songs.” What kind of survey is THAT? And speaking of songs-- my favorite genre is country, but you won’t find any country songs on my list of great songs-- at least not if I’m limited to four-- or even six! (See below!)
You get my point. How ya suppose to answer this with any kind of certainty?
I will try a couple of them, just to break the ice here:
Four places I have lived: Mokelumne Hill, CA; Shemya, Alaska; Vincenza, Italy; Sembach, Germany.
Four favorite movies: (a/o today.) Paint Your Wagon, Mr. Holland’s Opus, Lonesome Dove, The Longest Day.
Four great songs: “I Left My Heart in San Francisco,” (Tony Bennett.) “My Way,” Frank Sinatra.) “Changes in Latitude,” (Jimmy Buffet.) “For What It’s Worth,” (Buffalo Springfield.) “Seasons in the Sun,” (Terry Jacks.) “Washington Post March” (Sousa.)
Okay - so that’ six. Ya see? These surveys are impossible!
I’m gonna go scratch. I’d love to hear about four of your favorite things-- but I’m not going to send you a canned e-mail demanding a response!
Happy Bananas (yellow.)
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