DAMES In Dock...

Day 53: "Nobody can pull the wool over my eyes! Cashmere, maybe, but wool? Never!"
-Thurston Howell III

The last two nights have brought successful performances of DAMES AT SEA, and tonight concludes our all-to-brief run. I love doing shows at Hoover Library, but three performances just aren't always enough. C'est la vie...we still have one left tonight.

This afternoon I return to A CHRISTMAS STORY, with a 2pm rehearsal. Paul has done a tremendous amount of work during my time at sea, and I am excited about seeing all the progress that has been made. Who knows...maybe Ralphie will actually get that Red Ryder 200 shot carbine action range model air rifle...but the sunzabitchin Bumpuses will still let their mangy hounds run wild and that no good ding blang fuzzlewhizzin furnace will keep producing clinkers...

I love that show. :-)

In today's News From The Motherland...an issue with the BBC website. Will post two links next time...

Cheers!
FLT3

DAMES Sets Sail...

Day 52: "Of course, we'll be rescued! You don't expect Thurston Howell III to spend the rest of his life on an island without a stock ticker, do you? Not to mention a fox hunting season!"
-Thurston Howell III

Once again, I am attempting, dear readers, to resume daily blogging. Oh, to have a dollar for every time I have sworn to be more diligent with these scribblings...

Last night was final dress rehearsal for DAMES AT SEA, with a small invited audience of about 35 or 40 people. I am happy to report that all went very well, with the exception of two costume changes (both mine) that have to take place with lightning speed. Although I made it onstage, to call me anything but bedraggled and rumpled would be obscenely generous. I do believe the problem(s) have been solved, however, so tonight's opening should be quite successful.

SANTA IN SPACE is going well. The kids should love it, and there is enough cheeky humor in the script to keep the adults from falling asleep.

I have been very philosophical lately...the concept of sadness has been on my mind as I have been fighting off a bit of a funk. There are those among us (good and learned people, all) who view sadness as a chance for growth, inner knowledge, a greater texture of being, etc. I respect this outlook intellectually, but it is not for me.

My view on sadness is that it is a cancer on the soul and must be wiped out. Our lives are so short...to waste a moment of the truly precious time we have been given is a sin, and sadness absolutely destroys the quality of the time we have on Earth. With apologies for the shallow philosophy, I have to quote the great philosopher Sally Bowles..."start by admitting from cradle to tomb isn't that long a stay..."

If sadness means growth, I'll stay ungrown. Take me to the island, strike up the orchestra, and bring on the dancing girls, falling coconuts, and spiffily-dressed upper-crust Englishmen (and women) singing about the Ascot Opening Race or histrionic Ohioan parents wondering what's the matter with kids today...I'm here to be happy.

And there it is. Feel free to disagree, but that's my viewpoint.

In today's News From The Motherland... a push to legalize...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/8357082.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Dance With Me...Or Not...

Day 51: "Cesar Romero would attend the opening of a napkin."
-Jim Backus

Well, once again, I have missed a day or two of blogging. C'est la vie, I suppose, but I do need to resume my daily scribblings. Now that my readership is in the low double-digits, I suppose I have an obligation to The Thinking Public. ;-)

Lots of fun things going on..."Dames At Sea" opens one week from yesterday, and last night we did a full run through without stopping, which is great. We now have time to polish and refine. If anyone is interested in seeing it (no pressure, just FYI) tickets are almost completely sold out for the (admittedly short) 3-performance run.

I am, despite my overall good feelings about the show, terribly concerned that my dancing abilities (or lack thereof) will be the one tiny flaw in an otherwise excellent production. Jack and Kim (my director and choreographer, respectively) keep insisting that I am making great improvement, they can tell that I am working, etc. etc. etc.... but let's be honest, friends. I have the coordination and physical grace of a drunken moose. George Wallace was a better dancer than I am. If a role calls for singing and acting, I'm your man...if the words "dance break," "second act ballet," or "anything more than a box step or a grapevine" are applicable to a given part, it's most likely going to be above my skill set...

Oh well, maybe The Captain was wounded in the Boer War and has a shattered fetlock or something. Perhaps that can be part of my back-story...

I also learned a lesson in stage combat safety this week...basically, if you're six feet tall and someone five-foot-two is throwing a punch at you, leaning in to her as she does it is not a good idea. Yes, for most people with the sense God gave a turnip, this would be obvious, but yours faithfully has never claimed an excess of common sense...

In today's News From The Motherland...one does so hate to hear of head-butting at a wedding...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/wales/south_west/8346279.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Our First Milestone!

Day 50: "Ah, the bar-room! A place of good cheer and conviviality!"
-Jim Backus (as Mr. Magoo)

Well, dear readers, we have hit day 50 in our "year of daily blogging." Okay, so a few days have been missed...well, more than a few, but there you are...the spirit is true and the goal clearly stated, so if we stumble, so be it. Our marathon started on 19 August, which was...a few days longer ago than 50, but still we persevere... ;-)

So far this has been a fairly productive morning...things have been accomplished, goals achieved, deadlines met, and generally all done well. Let's hope that this trend continues...

This afternoon I must pay a visit to the local "Doc In A Box" to get a TB test, which will hopefully complete all my requirements for subbing in the Jefferson County system. I do believe one could get married, buy a home, and perhaps even bring home slightly rotten fruits and vegetables from Haiti with less paperwork. Quel dommage to be sure, but at least I am almost done...

I bought a new computer this weekend, and after tomorrow's visit from the Bright House Cable service rep, it will actually work! For months, my cable has been a bit fuzzy, but I don't watch much TV, so I never bothered to have it fixed...however, the same snowy reception seems to be preventing the whatsit in the cable wires to get through the thingmabob and make connection to the doohickey that makes the thingy work.

Am I being too technical for anyone?

On other fronts, it has recently come to light that in the recent unpleasantness regarding Larry Langford's unfortunate turn of fortune he was actually offered a plea deal that would have only presented him with a few years in prison. LaLa rejected the deal, and now faces up to 800 years. Probably not his wisest decision. Oh, Larry, Larry, Larry...

In today's News From The Motherland...banking changes at Lloyd's and RBS...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/8340627.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Stage Update and LaLa...

Day 49: ...and we're back!

Again, apologies for the missed days of blogging. I suppose my resolve to mirror "Julie and Julia" has been somewhat less than successful thus far, but the effort continues. Once we hit day 365, dear readers, we can have fun seeing how many actual days have passed... I am, as the saying goes, a flawed man, but my efforts will not cease...

The various shows with which I am involved are going swimmingly. Dames At Sea sets sail in two weeks, and it is coming together extremely well. We are under the direction of The Great (and I do not exaggerate) Jack Mann who can, as far as I am concerned, do no wrong. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I was actually DIRECTED to play my 2nd act role as Jim Backus...oh what a treat, but when the eye-rolling commences, I hope anyone with that knowledge will explain that I was only following my director's instructions...by George! The rest of the cast is doing a great job, and the show will be a success...even more so if I can somehow get through the dance numbers without utterly embarassing myself...which may or may not be possible...

A Christmas Story, as of last night, is completely blocked and now we can really start the fun work. (A special shout-out to my dear friend and Assistant Director, Paul McCracken, who has been as good as gold from running rehearsal when I have been at Dames, to helping organize everything from props to publicity, and generally helping the train run smoothly.) I won't bore the reader with a list of names (for there are many) of those who are making A Christmas Story a joy...let it suffice to say that everyone involved is adding immeasurably to the warmth and high quality of the experience. Sonsabitchen Bumpuses... ;-)

Santa In Space begins rehearsal next week at BCT. More as it develops, but I have read the script and it is charming, funny, and cute...perfect fare for the kids at Christmas time.

Larry remains free. Long may he wave. Although I still mourn the departure of quite possibly the most amusing political figure in Birmingham history (and that's saying quite a lot) I have launched my own Facebook "campaign" for mayor...so I don't live in the city limits? Who cares? That never stopped Larry...

In today's News From The Motherland...Trouble at The Tower...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/london/8337367.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

The Color Purple (my feet)

Day 48: "I find the moment I let a woman make friends with me she becomes jealous, exacting, suspicious and a damn nuisance...and I find the moment that I make friends with a woman I become selfish and tyrannical."
-Henry Higgins on the relationship between the sexes in My Fair Lady.

Well, now that Professor Higgins has brightened the day with his thoughts on love, let's take a look at something I truly adore...IRONING!!!!

I will pause for laughter here.

This week brings a fun little gig ironing costumes for the national tour of "The Color Purple." The money is quite good and my co-workers most congenial, but Sweet Mother of God, they certainly do have a lot of clothes! MY FEET ARE KILLING ME after standing and ironing all day.

I know...bitch, bitch, bitch, as they say... I may not revel in the work itself, but I look forward to the paycheck, and hey...I'm working in the arts...sort of... ;-)

The Trial Of Larry Langford continues with no real fireworks thus far. This is sure to change.

In today's News From The Motherland...Mr. Brown encourages compromise...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/8319679.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

More Noel Coward...

Day 47: Another day, another dollar.

Today I am subbing at Hueytown High School, which is my first job in the Jefferson County system. So far, so good...my classes are all listening to "To Kill A Mockingbird" on CD, which is quite pleasant. It has been years since I last read the book, yet I find myself mentally reciting along with the narrative voice whenever a favorite passage arrives. Good writing stays with one for a while...and excellent writing for a lifetime. At present, the reprehensible Bob Ewell offers his testimony.

Well, The Trial Of Larry Langford is underway, and since I have a little time on my hands, I have decided to have another go at lyric composition in the style of Noel Coward...

"Lucky Larry"
By FLT3 (with apologies to NC)

Though 'tis true that Larry would not turn up his nose
At a gift of cash or (for style and dash)
A swell new suit of clothes,
To accuse him of malfeasance, see,
Would lack a common decency,
A lapse his counsel surely would oppose.

With a strong defense in hand, which
Will set him free (most gloriously)
He'll celebrate with a fried egg sandwich
And (not to belabor it)
A Grapico (his personal favorite)
And laugh at the sentencing of Blount (the grand snitch.)

Oh Lucky Larry, you'll beat the rap, you will.
The scales of justice will tip in your favor
From your flagon of chicanery we all drink our fill,
Your antics are sweet, our favorite flavor.

LaPierre made a bargain to quite sell you out,
He's a cad and a bounder, a rogue and a rounder,
With a mouth like a chasm and nose like a snout.
Though ugly and scary
He can't harm our Larry.
LaLa's followers all remain strong and devout.

To the land of Bear Bryant the trial relocated
Where publicity grew and (as everyone knew)
The ensuing enthusiasm ne'er once abated.
Larry's every caper
Made the daily newspaper
And acquittal is fervently anticipated...

Oh Lucky Larry, you'll beat the rap you will.
The scales of justice will tip in your favor.
From your flagon of chicanery, we all drink our fill,
Your antics are sweet, our favorite flavor.

In today's News From The Motherland...a clean Amy Winehouse...?
(For some reason "Copy/Paste" isn't working...will add link ASAP.)

Cheers!
FLT3

A Certain Perspective...

Day 46: "I can't believe I'm saying this...but can you make him a little more Thurston Howell?"
-Jack Mann, uttering a very rare statement to FLT3 at "Dames At Sea" rehearsal.

I hope this post sparks conversation, but not any arguments...I have been thinking a lot today about the perspective one brings to an artistic evaluation. I must, unfortunately, repeat a small amount of gossip to illustrate my point. Names will be scrupulously witheld to protect friendships and feelings.

Yesterday I saw an outstanding performance of a musical revue. I went mainly to be supportive of several friends who performed in it, and to be honest, I was not sure what to expect. Several other friends (all of whom are in the Bham theatre community) had told me it was "cute," "okay," and "not bad." Nobody trashed it, but the endorsements were somewhat lukewarm. Therefore, with glad heart but moderate expectations, I bought my ticket and took my seat...

Without exaggerating, I will say that the performance I saw was on par with most of what I have seen in NYC and London. The musicianship was first-rate, the performers were energetic and committed to the choreography, and the direction was sparkling and lighthearted when appropriate, and quite touching at times. I would not have felt cheated had I paid twice the ticket price or more. It was, in a word, delightful. (Incidentally, the theatre was all but sold out, and the crowd was quite enthusiastic.)

Do I think the tepid praise I heard in advance was mean-spirited? Absolutely not. I just think that we (performers in the arts community) are sometimes less than objective when evaluating the work of our friends. This does not make anyone a bad person...it's just a fact.

There is an old saying that I love..."when you point a finger at someone else, there are three fingers pointing back at you." (Try it...it's true...) I will admit that I have been guilty of this tendency myself. I have sometimes been a bit more harsh about performances than (in retrospect) I should have been. It just makes for an interesting point to ponder...does an artistic inclination rob one of some objectivity? As much as we all love our friends who are also our fellow performers, do we tend to hold them to a higher standard than the average audience member would?

At any rate, I was thoroughly entertained and got much more than my money's worth...and I am going to do my very best not to view the work of others from beneath an arched eybrow, so to speak...

On other subjects, I am looking forward to subbing with a new school system tomorrow. (I will continue to sub for Vestavia and Mtn. Brook, but have now added Jefferson County Schools to my list.) There is hopefully a very substantial job forthcoming...more on that as it develops...

"Dames At Sea" continues her voyage towards the stage. Tickets are going fast, so make reservations now if you are interested in seeing the show. We have only three performances, November 12, 13, and 14.

In today's News From The Motherland...Firefighters On Strike...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/south_yorkshire/8315417.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

From The Deck Of The Ship...

Day 45: I remember Pensacola...
-From the musical Dames At Sea.

As I write, the cheerful tones of "Choo Choo Honeymoon" are being played and sung behind me. Yes, I am at rehearsal, and so glad of it. Dames At Sea is a musical so happy it makes Anything Goes look like an Ibsen drama...well, that's an exaggeration, but you get the point. We perform November 12-14 at Hoover Library Theatre, for those who may be interested.

Well, the Trial Of The Century begins next week, assuming Larry doesn't cop a plea. (The Larry in reference is Birmingham Mayor Larry Langford, for those who do not follow our local politics.) As blatantly guilty as he appears to be of all sorts of malfeasance, I can't help admiring (albeit with a shake of my head) a pure charlatan showman, which describes Larry to a T. He is a real-life Harold Hill, but zanier. His trial is sure to be a circus, and he may well emerge as ringmaster. More on this as it develops...

In today's News From The Motherland...shark bites man.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/scotland/edinburgh_and_east/8312805.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Remembering Jack Parrish

Day 44: Requiem In Terra Pax

It isn't often (well, this is the first time actually) that I will give over my blog to another writer, but today I feel compelled to share the news of the passing of a good friend and fine actor. I met Jack Parrish when we were both performing in "The Lost Colony" in Manteo, NC, in 1994. He was a true gentleman, both onstage and off. I had not seen him for years, but was quite saddened to hear of his death via a mutual friend, who posted the memoriam below. (Our mutual friend, for the record, was not the author...I have never met Bruce Miller, but I thank him for a wonderful remembrance.) RIP, Jack Parrish. You will be missed.

The following is written by Bruce:

Sharing the sadness that so many in the Richmond theatre community are feeling this evening, I’m sorry to report on the passing of Jack Parrish (pictured to the right with Cathy Shaffner standing and Jan Guarino in Money Matters). Jack was an outstanding Richmond theatre artist and a longtime friend to many of us who’ve been walking these boards for a while. After a lengthy battle with lung cancer, Jack only recently went into hospice care and died this afternoon.I met Jack in the early 70s when I was rising in the ranks of the theatre program at U of R and Jack was similarly placed in the theatre program at VCU. One of my favorite Jack memories from those early days was when he starred in a wonderful VCU production of As You Like It, I think during one of the FanFare summers. FanFare was VCU’s erstwhile summer theatre operation.Jack moved out of town after graduating from VCU, worked a few years in New York, landed some soap opera work, and then worked mainly in regional theatre. He played Dexter Haven in The Philadelphia Story, Uncle Ernie in The Who’s Tommy, Petruchio in The Taming of the Shrew, and many other dashing roles (Jack was good at dashing). He appeared at prestigious professional theatres including The Alabama Shakespeare Festival, Asolo Theatre in Florida, and Mill Mountain Playhouse in Roanoke.Jack returned to Richmond in the late 80s, maybe early 90s, to star at Theatre IV as the dashing spy in the classic Civil War melodrama, Secret Service. His other major Theatre IV roles were as The Man in the Yellow Suit in Tuck Everlasting, and as an unforgettable Captain Hook in Peter Pan.At Barksdale, Jack starred in Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde, The Little Foxes, The Crucible, James Joyce’s The Dead, Scapino!, the world premiere of Money Matters, and Anything Goes.Shortly after his foray into Cole Porter, Jack moved to Lexington KY to share a city with his great friend, Rick St. Peter, and to lead the theatre program at a local university. He returned to Richmond during the summers to star in the Henry plays at Richmond Shakespeare, having to leave his role two summers ago when he was first diagnosed and began chemotherapy.Jack also was an acclaimed director, rallying the forces of several of Theatre IV's touring productions. His contributions to Richmond theatre are immeasurable, and he will be greatly missed. Our deepest sympathies go out to Jack’s wife, Kathy, their son, Clay, and the rest of his family.With love and respect, Barksdale will dedicate The Grapes of Wrath, our upcoming co-production with TheatreVCU, to Jack’s abiding memory.--Bruce Miller

In today's News From The Motherland...Tories push for re-opening murder case...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/8310722.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Hello, Again...

Day 43: Sorry I missed a week. I thought it was leap year.
-FLT3

Well, I have once again slacked off a bit in re my daily postings, but with the renewed vigor which I always bring apres-vacances I resume today. This "year" of writing may turn out to contain 500 or so days...

Rehearsal is underway for both Dames At Sea and A Christmas Story, and all is "so far so good." I took a few rehearsal photos of Dames rehearsal last night, and if I can ever figure out how to get them from cell phone to computer, I will post them.

The weather is slate grey and wet, as usual. As depressing as it may sound, I have actually been quite enjoying it. After the nuclear-hot summers we have had of late, the cool semi-darkness of a hydrated autumn is delightful.

If I am already reduced to a discussion of the weather by paragraph three, one might assume that I had little to say today. Perhaps one would be correct...

In today's News From The Motherland...a yogurt advert stirs controversy...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/8305918.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

A Brief Hello

Day 42: Come dancing...
-The Kinks

The above quote merely points out the fact that I like the song. It has nothing to do with actual dancing, which is not my strongest talent, to put it mildly...

Tonight brought another rehearsal for DAMES AT SEA, which has left the "Echo Waltz" as well as the title number playing on a semi-perpetual loop inside my head. This time last year it was providing GREASE tunes, which were ever so slowly transforming into the WWII-era tunes of THE 1940's RADIO HOUR. Such is the soundtrack of my life...

Nothing terribly interesting or unusual today. This is not a bad thing.

In today's News From The Motherland...Royal Mail workers strike...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/8296660.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Dames At Sea and BCT

Day 41: HINES: I told you once...I'm not jealous!
GLADYS: I didn't say you were jealous, Vernon, I said you were drunk!
HINES: Well, you can't have everything...
-From the musical The Pajama Game.


Tonight brought the second rehearsal for DAMES AT SEA, which shows a great deal of promise. The cast is small (only 6 actors) and everyone in it (with due modesty) is extremely talented and the show itself is delightful. We perform in November at Hoover Library Theatre...only three performances...get your tickets now...

I am playing a dual role, which is always fun. In the first act, I am Hennesey, the highly stressed theatrical producer, and in the second act, the clueless/befuddled ship's captain. Both roles are going to be very enjoyable to play, but at first glance, The Captain is my favorite.

Today also brings a costume fitting for the previously-heralded SANTA IN SPACE at Bham Children's Theatre. I have no idea how the playwright has managed to launch Pere Noel into the ionosphere, but I am sure it will be a show the kids will enjoy. We perform in the "Wee Folks" theatre, which is an intimate space, to say the least. Having done Wee Folks shows before, I feel qualified to state that there is no theatrical venue (at least not in my experience) that provides such...shall we say...immediate feedback on one's performance. Playing in a very small space is sometimes a bit claustrophobic under any circumstances, but when the average audience member is six years old...believe me, you know pretty quickly when they have lost their focus.

As silly as it may sound, children's shows sometimes force the best and most considered acting. Adults will usually politely accept a decent but not brilliant performance. With kids, you have to stay on your game from entrance to exit. ;-)

Onward, onward...

In today's News From The Motherland... a new role for a Tory leader...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/politics/8294670.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Redefining Age

Day 40: If they say I'm too old for you,
Then I shall answer "Why, sir!
One never drinks the wine that's new...
The old ones taste much nicer!
-From the musical "The Boy Friend."

This evening after rehearsal, I was talking to my good friend Goldstein about the concept of age. He and I agreed that while we are (as they say) "eyballing forty," we really don't feel much older than we did in college. This is not the first time I have had this conversation, and it seems that most people within my demographic do not truly view themselves as "middle aged." When we were teenagers, forty seemed (to paraphrase Garrison Keillor) unspeakably ancient, old, degenerate...and now it seems about my age.

I distinctly remember when Dear Old Dad turned forty...I was about eight years old, and could not comprehend why he chose to spend a sparkling, cheerful, two-weeks-before-Christmas weekend just lying on the couch and looking morose. I seem to recall going into the den and poking him with a stick or doing something comparably horrible...to which his only response was something along the lines of "enjoy being young while you can." After a few days of delicious self-pity, he pulled himself out of the ashes and soldiered on, regaining a good 98% of his former cheerfulness, which was still quite ample. In a typical moment of wisdom and insight, he assured me that there would be no more gloomy birthdays for him. Each of us has that one natal anniversary circled in black, and once it has passed, no others can harm us. At the time I was mystified by the concept of depression following a birthday.

My personal bete noir was thirty-five. It knocked me down for the count, and I followed my paternal example and wallowed in my decrepitude for a few days, and then rejoined the world with joie de vivre relatively intact. As forty approaches, I scoff at it. I thumb my nose. I guffaw in the visage of my fortieth year. I might even work up a respectable chortle.

I will neither belabor the point nor dredge up an old discussion, but I must admit that I keep returning to the "Cougar Town" posting of a couple of weeks ago. Again, I am finding levels of inaccuracy heretofore undiscovered. If so many people in my age group are either miserable, desperate, sexually frustrated beyond redemption, or over-the-hill, I have mercifully been spared their company. May that blessing continue.

One final point to share here, and I must give credit where it is due...this is Goldsteinian philosophy. It is not entirely applicable to age, but it holds at least a tangential connection. I have dubbed it "Stein's Theory of Relativity" and I expect it to overtake Einstein's any day now...

When people say how much faster time passes with age, they are correct from a certain point of view. When one is ten years old, a year is one tenth of one's life. When one is forty, one year is one fortieth of the life lived so far. Time DOES move faster when measured against one's entire life to date. It's all perspective.

In today's News From The Motherland...tougher gun laws?
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/8292525.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

My Man Godfrey

Day 39: "Where we used to have grocery stores, we now have liquor stores on every corner."
-Mentioned in a local politician's pitch for election. I wonder if that is good or bad...

I watched an old favorite this evening...MY MAN GODFREY with William Powell and Carole Lombard. If you haven't seen it, I recommend it highly. Yes, it's old, the acting is stilted, the script is far-fetched, and the glimpse into the inner workings of a moneyed but eccentric family is completely cartoonish.

It's wonderful. :-)

In today's News From The Motherland...Happy Birthday, Monty Python!
http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/montypython/

Cheers!
FLT3

Smarties

Day 39: Candy is Dandy but Liquor is Quicker
-Anonymous and oft-quoted.

Today's post is about candy. My sister and I have been discussing those sweet treats of childhood that still cling to the memory...my personal favorite to this day is called "Bottle Caps," and offers a series of soda-esque flavored discs in the shape of (you guessed it) a bottle cap. Her confection of choice is called "Smarties" and is quite comparable...small, sugar-constituted discs of joy, but not shaped like bottle caps.

"Candy" in the vernacular of ma soeur et moi, is applied only to sugary, most likely fruit-flavored, non-dairy sweets. A chocolate bar is "chocolate," and while delightful, has little in common with "candy." By the same token, an offer of a "Coke" is purely for a soft drink, with "Coke" being the cognomen for all things fizzy, sweet, and sold in bottles or cans.

Enough of this. Enjoy the sweet of your choice today. :-)

In today's News From The Motherland...a shot in the dark, so to speak...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/scotland/edinburgh_and_east/8289474.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

A Song For Kim D...

Day 38: The optimist wakes up and says "Good Morning, God." The pessimist says "Good God, Morning." I don't recall where I heard that, but I've always liked it...

This morning on FaceBook, my good friend/adopted sister Kim D was bemoaning her fate...working retail. We've all been there before, and we all know it can be rather trying. I thought a little something in the style of Noel Coward might amuse her and make the day a bit brighter... :-)

"Working Retail With Cocktail In Hand"
(by FLT3 with apologies to NC)

When ringing the clothes
Or hankies for the nose
Of the lady with the charge plate in hand,
I often reinforce myself
More specifically, re-course myself
Towards the oldest respite in the land...

A slug of gin
Will quite do in
Any of the workaday blues.
And a beer surreptitious
Is always delicious
While dealing with the afternoon to-do's.

From dustman to surgeon
They all must submerge in
The claret from time to time,
And be not perjorative
Re the powers restorative
Of a lightly chilled vodka and lime...

Working Retail With Cocktail In Hand
Is what maintains civility
To the best of ability
Throughout this sceptered land.
'Tis no jest or joke,
That a bourbon and coke
Keeps a smile on the face and a pistol out of hand.

When an elderly matron is shouting with anger
And you wish she were bludgeoned or banned...
Don't bother to ask,
Take a nip from your flask,
Working Retail With Cocktail In Hand...

In today's News From The Motherland...a new direction for The Evening Standard...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/8286660.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Garment Thoughts...

Day 37: Be an example to your sex,
Give your boot a dapper strap,
And it's smarter if your garter has some snap!
Cravats should be flounced about our necks,
Draw your breeches in quite tight.
Even more so and your torso will ignite!
Now drape your cape and fluff your cuff,
And let your waistcoat swing,
Then the jungle will bow to it's king...
La! But someone has to strike a pose
And bear the weight of well-tailored clothes...
That is why the Lord created man...
- from The Scarlet Pimpernel:The Musical

As anyone who read my status today knows, I just purchased a new white dinner jacket online. (Well, it's actually not brand new, but new to me...) I have owned several throughout the years, as much for real life wear as for costume/stage purposes, and they never cease to fascinate me.

There's something about a white dinner jacket that transcends the effect of any other formal garment. A traditional evening outfit is classic and delightful, and I always feel spiffy in a tuxedo. A morning suit is even better...charcoal pinstripes, a cutaway and a cravat can not be underestimated.

But then...there's a crisply pressed pair of black pants, a starched white dress shirt and a black bow tie, topped off with the aforementioned white dinner jacket... It's hard not to feel good about one's self when so attired. It may sound odd, but it's true (at least from my perspective.)

Obviously, the Thurston Howell III imagery is there...but it also brings to mind the thought of an Edwardian dinner dance in a grand London ballroom...or an outdoor reception in the springtime...or even an intimate dinner party with friends, where a touch of playful overdressing seems in order.

I've just now realized that a white dinner jacket represents happiness to me. Plain and simple...if you're wearing one, you're most likely going to attend some sort of festive, happy event with more than a dash of playfulness about it. One does not wear such a garment to funerals, arraignments, or to have a root canal. (Although it might make a visit to the dentist much more fun.)

Clothing is quite powerful when one stops to consider... I have several "I look and feel good about myself" outfits. These include:

. Khakis and either a white or blue button-down shirt. I sometimes jokingly refer to this as my "uniform," and that's really sort of true. This is a basic look, but one that will go almost anywhere...dress it up with a blue blazer or just roll up the sleeves for a more casual look.

. Grey suit. Traditional cut, fresh from the cleaners. Add a regimental tie (green and blue is a particular fave) with French cuff shirt and newly polished shoes. It's impossible not to feel important in a nice suit, even if you're only going to church or dinner.

.Hawiian shirts. Everyone needs to cut loose every now and then.

.Brown tweed jacket and bow tie. If I feel particularly whimsical, I might even add a pair of tortoise-shell glasses just for fun. Add tweed driving cap if it's a particularly British day (and what day isn't?)

...and the list goes on. While clothing was originally intended for warmth alone, one has to wonder if some Paleolithic Adolphe Menjou or Beau Brummell added dinosaur teeth to his fur cassock to make himself feel good. (Yes, I know the history is unsound, but that's not the point...)

Again, time for a reader's poll...what garment(s) do you have that make YOU feel pretty, handsome, full of life, etc.? I will look forward to your answers.

In today's News From The Motherland...UK charities rise to the cause...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/8285409.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Musings...

Day 36: To everything, turn,turn,turn...there is a season, turn,turn,turn...

I have been reflective today. Somewhat melancholy (which I will try and spare my readers) yet hopeful (which I will do my best to share.) I have been pondering the general arc of life, and the strange turns it can take...nothing that will change the nature of man...just personal musings...

Each day is a crapshoot. You never know when you wake up in the morning if today is the day you get hit by a bus or hit the lottery...sometimes the worst morning can bring joy with the setting of the sun, while at other times you can really feel like it's all smooth sailing through calm seas...until the raft sinks unexpectedly (yes, that was a Gilligan reference...bonus points for anyone who can name the episode... ;-)

I suppose that's what makes the world interesting. I remember reading one of those little books of questions that make plane travel and jury duty bearable...you know the kind I mean...and one of the questions was "Would you rather have a flat, predictable, but relatively dull life or one filled with great successes and amazing failures?" Well, anyone who has known me for more than six minutes would quickly realize that the former, while perfect for some, would not be my first choice. Granted, NEITHER is ideal...they are both on the fringes of extreme. They do, however, make for an interesting point to ponder.

There's a marvelous little song in Lerner & Loewe's Gigi called "It's A Bore." In the song, bon vivant Honore Lachailles is trying to cheer up his nephew, Gaston, who is much more staid of nature than his uncle. A quote:

HONORE: Look at Paris in the spring,
When each solitary thing
Is more beautiful than ever before...
You can hear every tree almost saying "look at me!"

GASTON: What color are the trees?

HONORE: Green!

GASTON: What color were they last year?

HONORE: Green!

GASTON: And next year?

HONORE: Green!

GASTON: It's a bore...

(My apologies for the above quote which I thought would round out the discussion, but upon refelction it doesn't exactly apply. However, it's still a nice little tune. It will be in my head today :-)

Enough prattling on my part. I may have had a point, but it has gotten off-track.

In today's News From The Motherland...a Welsh politician calls it quits...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/wales/wales_politics/8283538.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Film Comments...

Day 35: Forty-Seven Ginger-Headed Sailors,
Coming home across the briny sea!
When the anchor's weighed and the journey's made,
Then we'll start the party with a "Heave-Ho Me Hearty!"
Forty-Seven Ginger Headed Sailors...
You can bet you're going to hear them when they hail us!
An old maid down in Devon
Said my idea of heaven
Is Forty-Seven Ginger-Headed Sailors!
-British novelty song, circa 1910.

I have missed a couple of days. Apologies.

I usually begin my post closest to Sidewalk with a quote from Aaron White... "Oh, I had me a time at the Sidewalk..." This year was delightful, but I only actually attended one film, given Lovey's illness and the weather. It was, however, a good one...

We saw a documentary on the world of role-playing games. (The kind with people around a card table rolling dice to see what the knight or spaceman does next...not the sexy kind.) I thoroughly enjoyed the glimpse at this little world that exists far beyond what I imagined to be a somewhat silly game played by chubby teenagers and nerdy college students. These people take their gaming very seriously.

I won't go into a lot of detail here, but the film was immensely entertaining and a bit tragic at times. All the cliches were there...the not-so-pretty girl who paints herself solid black to get into character as a dark elf, the overgrown geeky guy who slaves away over a most-likely-less-than-wonderful novel while schlepping through life, and the quirky nudist (yes, I said nudist) who takes an almost unhealthy delight in "killing" other characters. Odd to a (wo)man, but each with some sort of endearing quality...not quite pathos, but close...they were the sort of people you just wanted to hug and take in hand.

But would you really? Are these strange folks basically happy? Do we allow their daily travails (normal ones, mostly) to appear more tragic because of their gamer/nerd-dom? On the other hand, do we see their travails because they are so plentiful? Is a Dungeons And Dragons game the gateway to escape for these socially awkward people? (I'm not being mean, nor am I implying that everyone who plays these games is socially inept...but the three individuals in the film definitely were.)

Like everyone else, I assume they are a mixture of every point along the continuum of human emotion. Here endeth the observation.

In today's News From The Motherland...a giant fish emperiled...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/earth/hi/earth_news/newsid_8269000/8269414.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Telling The Truth

Day 34: A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men.
- Gene Wilder in Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory

Today's topic is the truth. As in, I am not telling the truth when I date this post for Saturday. It is being written and back-dated on Sunday. Now that the pesky disclaimers are out of the way, I can talk about Saturday and use the word "yesterday" instead of "today," and Sunday will not have to be called "tomorrow." That's just too much trouble for a ruse that is neither amusing nor profitable...

Yesterday (Saturday) seemed to bear out the theory that I am simply not destined to grace the interior of a college football arena. As with last week's cancelled trip to the old alma mater, my weekend excursion to Auburn was scotched at the semi-last minute. Flu-like symptoms from Lovey prevented her going, I asked another friend but did not hear back, and then my prospective hosts sent me a text saying that while I was still certainly invited, the weather forecast was for a 100% chance of rain at kickoff.

God and The Universe do not have to beat me about the head.

After all was said and done, Lovey recovered somewhat and we enjoyed a small outing to the Sidewalk Film Festival and took in a movie (which I will discuss in greater detail in Sunday's post) and stopped by the Greek Food Festival for a bite to eat. A low-key, early evening seems to have put her back in the pink of health, and the only casualty was what would have been a delightful visit with good friends. I have great faith that many such visits lie ahead, however...

Our read-through for Dames At Sea went extremely well, and I am looking forward to playing the dual role of Hennesey/Captain. The cast is extremely talented, and we are in the hands of a first-rate production staff, so I forsee a total success.

In today's News From The Motherland...Madonna tops the charts...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/8277463.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Won't You Take Me To (Or Away From) Cougar Town?

Day 33: Everybody's working for the weekend...

I have been following a discussion on Facebook about the tv show "Cougar Town," starring Courtney Cox. (With a particular nod to Lovey for her very insightful thoughts.) After commenting on the subject on FB, it struck me that "Cougar Town" might be a good topic for today's post...

Without getting too repetitive for those who may have seen my earlier comment, I will admit to having found it amusing. Is it great literature? Will it be remembered for ages to come? Will Courtney even list it on her resume? A resounding and emphatic "hell, no" to all three. It's a fun little diversion best served with a couple of drinks and some popcorn.

Probing deeper, however, I do completely understand how it could be off-putting and even offensive to women, particularly those in the age group represented by the main character. From a male perspective, however, my main argument is with the completely erroneous image it projects about 40-something women. To portray them as desperate, grasping hags-on-the-rise who are so starved for affection they resort to chasing high school students is absurd. Unless I have been injected with some sort of sight-altering potion, there are about a bajillion extremely sexy, desirable, any-man-would-be-lucky-to-have-them 40-and-older women out there. Courtney Cox, for example, is (in my opinion) infinitely more attractive than she was in the "Friends" era.

Our national obsession with youth is creating a culture which blindly accepts 40 as "old." Nothing could be farther from the truth. I do not pretend to speak for my gender, but I would be very shocked if most men with the brains God gave a turnip would disagree. Yes, the 22-year-old cupcake in Maxim is pretty, but would you REALLY be attracted to her in person? Wouldn't a grown woman with life experience and an IQ be much sexier? I certainly think so.

Sexy, like so many other qualities is completely subjective. The writers of "Cougar Town" could accept this and open up the storyline to include a much broader base of experiences, while still staying true to the show's title. Sure, have the occasional fling with a boy toy, if it works for the character. Why not, however, add a plotline with a couple-of-a-certain-age working well and loving each other? I know that isn't as exciting to some, but it would add some much-needed texture to the show. Retread "Sex And The City" jokes are only going to carry them so far.

Yes, it's completely off-base and insular with respect (or lack thereof) to adult women who can actually buy alcohol and vote. That view will eventually wreck the show if a broader vision is not included soon. A one-trick pony show won't run after everyone in town has seen the trick, especially if the trick isn't remotely accurate. (OK, the metaphor broke down, but you get the point...)

I did find the libidinous teenager stealing the signs hysterical.

In today's News From The Motherland...an impromptu drive in window.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/hampshire/8274635.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Second Attempt...

Day 32: C is for cookie...and I am trying to resist that temptation.

Well, for all my readers who were disappointed that I did not make it to the UA game last weekend, take heart...tomorrow brings an exodus (well, if Lovey and I count as an exodus...perhaps an exodette?) to Auburn to watch them defeat...whoever it is they are playing...

Perhaps a bit of back-story is due here. One of my very best friends is a strong Auburn alum, and has kindly invited us down for the game and post-game festivities, which sound like great fun. Obviously, the universe is telling me that once every 20 years, I must attend a football match. Who am I to argue? I am sure the game will be enjoyable, the company delightful, and best of all, as I have observed in the past, football gives one an opportunity to drink in the morning and not appear trashy.

Not much else to report. Rehearsals are about to commence for Dames At Sea (in which I am performing) and A Christmas Story (which I am directing.) In about a month, rehearsal will kick off for Santa In Space at BCT (in which I play an alien. I smell a Tony.) I am sure there will be many updates on all three as they wind their respective ways towards the stage.

In today's News From The Motherland...more new ideas from British Airways.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/8274200.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Rebellion Redux...?

Day 31: The Sun Has Got His Hat On! Hip, Hip, Hip Hooray!
- from the musical, Me And My Girl

I have been doing more subbing lately, which has put me into close contact with lots of teenagers. As all of us who have lived through those years are well aware, adolescence is a time for testing boundaries and finding one's own way. This instinct is alive and well in the younger generation. Over the past few days I have seen pink(ish) hair, newsprint-style shirts extoling the virtues of various musical groups, rubber bracelets galore, and an increasingly large number of young people who look like my friends and I did in 1986. It looks like a pop culture retrospective once in a while...I even saw a kid with a Rubik's Cube a few days ago.

In the '80s, we teenagers were rebelling against the staid conservatism of the Reagan era, yet a young, vital, charismatic president was on the horizon. We embraced the materialism offered by our cozy middle-class environment, yet we railed against the heartlessness of a greed-based culture. Female rock stars used sexuality when the talent failed, and the 40-ish crowd benignly chuckled and reflected upon their own similar rebellion in the 1960's.

What is the point of all this? Basically that everything, even styles of rebellion and individuality seem to follow a common (and repetitive) arc. Is that good or bad? Probably neither...just a fact.

In today's News From The Motherland...a Baroness has servant trouble...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/politics/8273241.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

For Your Approval...

Day 30: The ground goes "squish."

Today brings a fairly long post, but one that I hope will be entertaining. I am submitting some writing to a local comedy troupe for (hopeful) performance. Whether or not any of what I write will wind up on stage remains to be seen. At any rate, below is one of the skits I submitted to the group, which I hereby submit for my readers' approval. (If it gets performed and you see the show, please refrain from shouting out the dialogue a la "Rocky Horror." :-)

Any comments will be welcomed...and if you don't keep up with Birmingham politics, it might be a bit difficult to follow...

"CELL BLOCK JACKPOT"

Characters:
Richard Scrushy
Antwon Brown
Bettye Fine Collins
That Guy On Southside Who Yells At Cars
Showgirl

SCRUSHY: (Entering in prison jumpsuit) Hi, there, everyone! I'm prisoner # 74452, but my friends call me Richard M. Scrushy! You may have heard of me. I'm the guy who was smart enough to create a multi-billion dollar empire, yet I expect you to believe I was dumb enough to let the people working for me commit a multi-billion dollar fraud. Don't you hate it when that happens? I mean...WHO KNEW!!??
Well, I find myself with a little time on my hands these days...7 to 10 years to be precise...and I have decided to pass that time doing what I do best...making money! That's why I am inviting you to play my new game show... RICHARD SCRUSHY'S CELL BLOCK JACKPOT!!!
(Game Show Music, SHOWGIRL enters with Applause sign.)
That's right! It's time to play the game that all the better correctional facilities are buzzing about, where YOU TOO can make a fortune - and possibly lose it without warning - hosted by me, Richard Scrushy, convicted felon, criminal mastermind, amateur rock star and ordained minister! Praise Jesus! (SHOWGIRL holds up applause sign)
Now let's meet our contestants for today! First, hailing from CousinEffer Alabama, a three-time assistant part-time employee of the month at Ray-Ray's Kwiky Mart and former Birmingham City Council Candidate...a man who enjoys fiction writing and getting creative with the English language...Antwon Brown! (ANTWON enters)

ANTWON: It's very splendumerous to be here, Richard.

SCRUSHY: Next, the darling of the Jefferson County Commission, a lady whose mind is always in the sewer, the lovely and controversial...Bettye Fine Collins! (BETTYE enters)

BETTYE: Hmmmmmmm...Hello.

SCRUSHY: And finally...an individual who needs no introduction, which is good because nobody really knows his name...the celebrated man about town we all know and love...That Guy On Southside Who Yells At Cars!

GUY: Aaaaaaaaargh!

SCRUSHY: Well said, as always, Guy On Southside Who Yells At Cars. Now, who's ready to win some potentially worthless stock options and allegedly stolen cash?
(SHOWGIRL raises applause sign)
Now remember the rules! The first one to hit the buzzer can answer the question, but if that person misses the answer, the other two contestants can give it a try. Everyone understand? Great! Let's begin...Question Number One...What was the first course of study eliminated from the public school system in the recent financial cuts?

(ANTWON hits buzzer - sound effect)

ANTWON: Uuuuuuh...would that be literatics and arithmatation, Richard?

SCRUSHY: No, I'm afraid literatics and arithmatation would be incorrect, Antwon. Bettye...?

BETTYE: Well, Dick...

SCRUSHY: RIchard.

BETTYE: Whatever. I have studied this issue for some time, and I have come to the conclusion that without more funding and a subsidiary tax, I can not fully address or adequately contemplate this issue. Once the school board approves my newly proposed tax on pimple cream, rap albums and unused condoms that sit in some kid's wallet for six years, the high school students of Birmingham should be able to provide sufficient revenue to maintain viability.

SCRUSHY: Thank you, Bettye, but that did not address the question.

BETTYE: There was a question?

SCRUSHY: Never mind. Contestant number three, That Guy On Southside Who Yells At Cars, what was the first course of study eliminated from the public school system in the recent financial crisis?

GUY: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!

SCRUSHY: That's right! ART! Our first round winner...That Guy On Southside Who Yells At Cars!

(SHOWGIRL displays applause sign)

SCRUSHY: Question number two...for five thousand dollars worth of seized computers and a slightly used Flora-Bama t-shirt...and remember it's still anyone's game here...question number two...what is the fastest-growing waste disposal dump in Alabama?

GUY: Hrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaauuuuuuurrrrrrrrrgh!

SCRUSHY: No, I'm sorry! "Hrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuurrrrrrgh" is the name of Rep. John Rogers' boat, but it is NOT the fastest-growing waste disposal dump in Alabama.

GUY: Grrrrrrrrrmph!

SCRUSHY: Yes, indeed. Antwon?

ANTWON: I have used my mentalitics very ardutiously, Richard, and I am going to predillate a guesstation. Is it City Stages?

SCRUSHY: Oh, I'm afraid not...there haven't been enough people at City Stages over the past few years to fill a medium-sized Hefty bag with garbage.

ANTWON: Cursidos and rappletrap!

SCRUSHY: Yeah, what you said...Now Bettye, for the round, what is the fastest-growing waste disposal facility in Alabama?

BETTYE: John Katapodis?

SCRUSHY: That's right!!!! (SHOWGIRL displays applause sign.) Jabba The Katapodis, who enjoys threatening witnesses and trying out new recipies in the prison kitchen, is the correct answer!

BETTYE: Yeah. Good. Nice. Hmmmm-mmmmm.

(Sound effect-bell rings)

SCRUSHY: Oh ho! You all know what that bell means! It's time for our final round!!! With one win each for Bettye Fine Collins and That Guy On Southside Who Yells At Cars, the outcome of this game is still very much up in the air!

SHOWGIRL: Free The Hops!

SCRUSHY: Sweetie, not only is that joke almost a year out of date, if anyone is going to get freed around here, it's me!

SHOWGIRL: Don't bet on it, Richard...

SCRUSHY: Cute. Now, for our final round, this is sort of a personal question, therefore I will judge which answer is best. The question is...what steps have you personally taken to save money during the recent financial crisis? Bettye, we'll start with you...

BETTYE: I haven't been to the beauty parlor in months.

SCRUSHY: (Deadpan) No shit? (ALTERNATE LINE: "You don't say...)

BETTYE: Up yours, Richard. You've been in jail long enough to know what I mean.

SCRUSHY: Ouch! Sorry, Bitter Bettye! Better luck next time! Antwon?

ANTWON: I have feduciaciously leetailed my monetarialism in the expendations of financeosity, Richard.

SCRUSHY: Antwon, I have no idea what the hell you just said.

(SCRUSHY looks at SHOWGIRL. SHOWGIRL shrugs.)
(SCRUSHY looks at BETTYE and GUY who shrug.)
(ALL look at ANTWON, who shrugs.)

SCRUSHY: That Guy On Southside Who Yells At Cars, for the game, what steps have you personally taken to save money during the recent economic crisis?

GUY: (Suddenly eloquent) Well, Richard, I have found that by using the skills I developed in acting class...Yale School of Drama '98, by the way...I have secured quite gainful employment impersonating a local eccentric and simply holding out my hand, swathed in filth though it may be...Plus, I bought a boatload of HealthSouth when it was at 10 cents a share and sold when it hit twelve dollars.

SCRUSHY: (Slipping him some cash) I'm sorry, can you repeat that...?

GUY: Oh, sorry old boy...YAAAAAAARGGGH!

SCRUSHY: And that's the winning answer!!!!

BETTYE: What the hell?

ANTWON: I'm inpestulated!

SHOWGIRL: What a load of crap!

SCRUSHY: Unfortunately we're all out of time for today, so we'll see you next time! Meanwhile, don't forget the new album I just cut with featured soloist Bernie Madoff, titled "TWO OLD WHITE GUYS SINGIN' CHAIN GANG SONGS."
(SHOWGIRL displays record cover)
From "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" to "Freedom Ride," you'll enjoy hearing the classic tunes of incarceration as only The Richard Scrushy Band can present them! Until next time, take care, and hold on tight to the soap! I'm Richard Scrushy saying bye for now!

(Music swells as lights fade.)

In today's News From The Motherland...British Airways goes green...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/8268078.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Still Seeking The Loop

Day 29: Woman, I'm troubled. I be all worried of mind.
-Muddy Waters

The loop referenced in today's heading is the one out of which I have fallen lately. I thought about posting two little posts and back-dating them for Saturday and Sunday, but that would be pushing the You-know-I-do-it-and-I-know-you-know-but-we-sort-of-ignore-it factor a bit far, even for me...as usual, I will vow to be back on task from this day forward. Believe that as you will...

The positive side of my having been a slacker for a couple of days is that I actually have a few experiences about which to write. Saturday was supposed to bring my presence at what would have been the first UA football game I had attended since my old fraternity days over 20 years ago. However, the day dawned rainy and grey, and my good friend Goldstein (who was providing the tickets) suggested that we stay in Birmingham and simply watch the game in the comfort of a cozy sports bar. I heartily agreed with this idea.

We went to The Tilted Kilt, a cheeky sports pub which blends English, Scottish, and Irish culture with moderate success. The waitresses are clad in very skimpy tartan wear, which gives one a fair idea of what a strip club in Brigadoon may have resembled. It's all in good fun, and the waitresses seem to be pretty good sports about the whole thing. I can also report that while the fish & chips don't rival those of The Motherland, they are quite tasty.

This week also brings pre-production work on A Christmas Story, which will be CenterStage's big "yes, we're back" production in December. While we have very little money, I have some ideas that will be inexpensive but effective...thank God that most theatre companies are usually on the ragged edge of financial disaster...we've all learned how to do a lot with little money. Also, the script is a cozy, intimate one, which relies on the acting and the story more than great spectacle, which is good...'cause we can only afford a very small spectacle. More like a monocle, truth be told...

Today I subbed at VHHS for a Science class, which was actually lots of fun. The kids were to watch a movie on Earth Science, and by the fourth viewing, I was really starting to enjoy it. Another day, another dollar...

I am still hoping to hear more form the readers who supposedly lurk in the shadows. Feel free to say hello! :-)

In today's News From The Motherland...a rooftop dispute.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/derbyshire/8267763.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Noblesse Oblige and Corn Dogs

Day 28: Frank Thompson is very off-put by the Alabama State Fair's advertisement for "Monkeys Riding Dogs." The monkeys deserve more dignity, and the dogs less physical exertion. Why not offer "Toothless Rednecks Riding Obese Women In Polyester?" There is sure to be a surfeit of both on the premises...
(Today's facebook status.)

I remember going to the fair a few times as a child. (This was, for the record, in the mid-to-late 1970's.) It was always fun, but vaguely unsettling. Even at the age of eight, I realized that the chap covered with grammatically inaccurate tattoos and axle grease was most likely not the sort of fellow one meets at Easter brunch. (This was also one of the first times I realized the inaccuracy of some of the old homilies with which we all grew up...perhaps one can't judge every book by it's cover, but a good look at the cover can usually provide a fairly good idea as to the contents.)

My parents were never huge fair fans, but they indulged me for a while. I finally had to pitch a minor hissy one year, followed by several years of being purchased the new toy of my choice as a payoff for NOT being taken to the fair. I quickly figured out that the new Star Wars spaceship (or whatever was hot at the time) was a better jackpot than a series of rides on the Tilt-A-Whirl (nausea-inducing) and a syrupy grape sno-cone and a mystery meat hot dog (ditto.) Come to think of it, perhaps the binge-drinking of the college years is just an attempt to recapture the youthful folly of fair-going...swirling around...getting sick...eating bad, greasy, food...could be Alabama State Fair circa '78 or University of Alabama circa '91...hmmm...

As for the noblesse oblige...well, we never tossed hot soapy water on the fair workers, nor did we mention the miracle of electrolysis to the woman (I think) selling foam-rubber teddy bears and "Man Of The Year" frosted bathroom mirrors. We were a kind lot, my family and I...

Joking apart, I am very unhappy (see above) with the "Monkeys Riding Dogs" advert. I would like to think that the animals are well-treated and adequately looked after. Yes, I would really REALLY like to think that...but I have my doubts. I console myself with the knowledge that monkeys and dogs are among the best biters in the animal kingdom, and can most likely chomp a chunk out of any human who starts trouble. I would imagine the bouquet de carny is a bit sub-standard...most likely a Schlitz/Spam combo...

Oh hell, I will say it. Don't go to the fair. The monkeys can't be proud of their work, and why add to their embarassment? Why also add to the coffers of a company that would exploit innocent animals in such a degrading way? Perhaps if the public does NOT flood the gates, the mystic "they" will realize just how distateful this type of "entertainment" is to the thinking populace.

I'll even buy you a new toy if you don't go. :-)

In today's News From The Motherland...lap-dancing tax break endangered...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/politics/8263284.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Reader Responses...And More!

Day 27: FELIX: (After seeing his leading lady heavily drugged) Doc! Will she be able to work?
IRVING: Is Batman a transvestite? Who knows? I was specifically requested to
alleviate her anxiety. Work was never mentioned...
(Another classic from S.O.B., Blake Edwards' brilliant hollywood satire.)

Today brings a big shout-out to two of my good friends and readers...Darrell, who added his memories of The Andy Griffith Show and Thelma Lou's smooching-in-church adventures (shameless floozy!) And Kristi, who posted a reply that somehow got lost in the great swirl of cyberspace...hopefully it will surface soon. At any rate, big thanks to both of you for responding...it's nice to know you're out there reading... :-)

Today brought a return to subbing at VHHS, and I am happy to say that I had an absolute blast! I was in for yet another good friend, Alan, who was kind enough to leave me in charge of his theatre classes for the day. As the kids are just getting started on improv, we played a series of "Whose Line Is It Anyway" type games, which all seemed to enjoy. I got my greatest pleasure of the day out of watching the handful of kids who were most reluctant to get onstage...and then realized how much fun improv can be...as is always the case, the current events of the day influenced the scenes, and Taylor Swift/Kanye were frequently invoked. All in all, a great day with a really wonderful group of kids.

In today's News From The Motherland...spending cuts announced...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/politics/8262168.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

With The Mail...A Treasure!

Day 26: Now listen to this story that we will tell to you...
The story of The Minnow, five passengers, and crew...

If those lyrics seem familiar but not...there's a reason. They are the intro lines for the theme song to The New Adventures Of Gilligan, a cartoon series based on everyone's (well, at least my) favorite fictitious castaways. This series aired in the early 1970's, and is extremely difficult to find...but today, I struck gold. In the mail, I received a 4-DVD set of the entire animated series, purchased online from a collectables shop somewhere in Illinois. I feel like a kid on Christmas morning. This is damn nigh the Holy Grail of Gilligania...

After viewing one episode, it is, as I recalled from childhood, basically an extended collection of episodes featuring Gilligan, The Skipper too, The Millionaire...and you know the rest... (pun intended. ;-) Five of the original cast provided the voices for their cartoon counterparts, with Jane Edwards voicing Ginger and Jane Webb giving speech to Mary Ann. Tina Louise wanted to distance herself from the series, and Dawn Wells had prior touring commitments in a stage play, so they were unwilling and unable to participate, respectively.

The other addition to the group is Snubby, Gilligan's monkey friend. Obviously, training a real chimp would have been difficult, but hey...animation allows for anything! :-) It has been pointed out to me that the original series was pretty much a cartoon with live actors, and I agree. That's what made it so delightful!

I suppose today's post won't mean much to anyone except me and a few other die-hard Gilligan nuts, but to us, this is like striking oil...which happens in one of the cartoons, according to the episode guide...I have great faith that the cartoon Thurston Howell III will find some way to gain control of the oil well, only to get his come-uppance in the last five minutes...or else he will soften towards the end and share with the others. Even as much as I love the show and the characters, I can't pretend that they aren't predictable.

So...I pose a question to my readers (audience participation time! :-) What was YOUR favorite TV show/toy/book/etc. from childhood which you still enjoy? Come on...admit it...you still have that Brady Bunch lunchbox in the attic, don't you? How about the Strawberry Shortcake dolls, the Red Ryder BB gun, the Rock-Em Sock-Em robots, the Lassie coloring book, the Star Trek videos, or any other of the bajillion entertainment-based items aimed at the under-18 market? We were raised as pop culture consumers, you know...

Looking forward to some good answers...

In today's News From The Motherland...a possible postal strike...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/8259867.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Pimp Of The Year?

Day 25: Brands belong on cattle, and that ain't what we're sellin' at Miss Mona's.
- from the Broadway musical "The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas"

I have been following with some interest the recent foofaraw and kerfuffle (sp? who knows?) over the undercover "pimp and whore" who applied for ACORN assistance and were somewhat cryptically instructed on how to receive a subsidy. While I firmly belive that such commerce between two consenting adults is completely their business, even I have to suggest that perhaps this is not exactly the sort of free enterprise that warrants governmental support. Lest my readers think I have fallen victim to some trumped-up bluenose morality, fear not...it just seems a senseless waste of money. I mean, beyond the hotel expense (which one can reasonably assume will be included in the fee quoted by Jasmine/Dakota/Stormee-With-Two-Ees,) the weekly case of condoms, and the occasional bottle of drugstore perfume, how many business expenses can legitimately be associated with this endeavor? When one stops to consider...it truly is one of the most low-overhead enterprises around. (And yes, I know the use of "overhead" in this context can easily inspire Beavis And Butthead levels of giggling. Feel free to indulge. I certainly did.)

One also has to wonder how the application was approached. Did the applicant list himself and his partner as "Mr Cleavon Velveteen Jones and Cherry Poptart, The Celebrated Courtesan To The Masses?" or did he express himself with the more earthy, understated sort of "JoJo Washington and Ho" patois so favored by inner-city hooligans and Kanye West? One does indeed wonder...

Are purple zebra-print miniskirts considered deductable business expenses? How about herpes medication? Heroin spoons? Lime-green Cadillacs? These are questions which must be answered if we are to legitimize this oldest of professions. What of unionization? Perhaps a political action group...I propose CROTCH (Credentialed Registered Order of Theraputic Caressing and Handling) as a catchy acronym. I think it could catch on.

This could quickly hit the gutter (too late, you say?) so I suppose I will quit while I'm ahead. (Yes, feel free to have another Beavis And Butthead moment now.)

In today's News From The Motherland...a singing star helps out...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/8259388.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Back To The Grind...

Day 24: Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm 64?

This week represents a much-needed return to what passes for normalcy in my life. Tomorrow I have two performances of Anything Is Possible at Vulcan museum, and Thursday I return to VHHS for a day of subbing.

So...there it is. Tomorrow's post will be longer, I promise. :-)

In today's News From The Motherland...Mr. Brown promises budget cuts...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/politics/8255938.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

TV

Day 23: Singin' In The Rain...Again...

When flipping through channels, as I usually, do, I am consistently amazed at how many people apparently think that someone with the secrets to making billions of dollars (while doing nothing) would actually sell that knowledge for three easy payments of $29.95. If I had that secret, I wouldn't tell a soul, and I would quietly and without fanfare, become disgustingly wealthy.

It also amazes me at how horribly most networks butcher old movies to make room for these commercials...but that's another rant for another time.

In today's News From The Motherland...Tokyo cracks down on subway groping...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/8254389.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Beer, Beer, Beer

Day 22: A long time ago, way back in history,
When all there was to drink was nothin' but cups o' tea,
Along came a man by the name of Charley Mopps,
And he invented a wonderful drink and he made it out of hops...
(From the English drinking song, Beer Beer Beer.)

I like beer. No, scratch that...I love beer. I love the smell, the taste, and the sensation of holding a frosty mug/can/bottle in my hand. I like expensive foo-foo beer, and I like cheap PBR or Schaeffer. I like imports, and I like domestic. I am a fan of (in the words of my good friend and philosopher Brian "Skippy" Kidd) of an ice-cold barley pop.

A beer buzz is different from the feeling one gets from wine or a cocktail (both of which I hold in high regard, of course.) It brings to mind the tiddly feeling enjoyed on a chilly Christmastime evening in college, strolling the campus with one's true love (of the week) after quaffing a few at a holiday party. At other times, it conjures memories of lazy summer afternoons fishing or sitting at an outdoor concert. Beer is arguably the most sociable of all adult beverages. While I am sure I have enjoyed a beer solo on more than one occasion, the mere mention of it suggests conviviality and a jocularly communal spirit. When a 12-pack and ice chest meet, a gathering of friends is likely to follow...

I prefer draft beer, but bottled/canned is also quite good.

When I was in my early twenties, I spent a delightful summer in Manteo, North Carolina, performing in the outdoor drama The Lost Colony. Manteo is a cozy little town, one of two nestled on tiny Roanoake Island, on NC's Outer Banks. (Just for the record, the other town is called Wanchese, named, as was Manteo, for a famous Native American tribal leader.) One of the delights of Manteo was (and I suppose remains) The Weeping Radish Brewery, which served up gargantuan steins of freshly-brewed beer that was about as tasty as any I have ever sampled. The Weeping Radish was a popular place, particularly around payday.

There was once a rather inexpensive and (presumably) indelicate little brew known as Frothingslosh, which was quite popular in the early 1960's, if memory serves. My hero, the great Jim Backus, provided the voice-over for a series of commercials which happily observed "Oh my gosh! It's Frothingslosh!" It was also marketed as the only beer "with the foam on the bottom," which simply meant that the labels were applied upside down to the bottles and cans. Marketing is a fine thing...

This essay must now draw to a close, as the beer I was drinking whilst writing has oddly evaporated, leaving me with an empty can. Steps must be taken to remedy this ghastly turn of events...

In today's News From The Motherland...a forgotten treasure uncovered...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/8252978.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

A Rainy Look At Art

Day 21: Singin' In The Rain...

Well, the plan for Lovey and me this evening is to have dinner with the Von Redlichs, (good friends from Tuscaloosa) and then to hit ArtWalk, which is a sort of art show/street fair here in Bham. So far, the weather has been capricious at best. I started the day in jeans, switched to shorts, went back to jeans and a jacket, and am now hot again...yes, we have gone from hot to cool to hot to cool and now back to hot, all in one day. No wonder everyone is sick. 'Tis the season to be contagious...

I do hope ArtWalk is not rained out. I also think the asshole senator who yelled at the president is an asshole, just in case you were wondering. It is his constitutional right to be a walking talking rectum, and I resepect that right, but it does not alter his basic constitution...

In today's News From The Motherland...pig races!
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/8251527.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Back On Track

Day 20: I have the best friends in the world.

Having taken another (hopefully understandable to my readers) two-day hiatus, I am now completely back on track. I had assumed after Monday's posting, all would be back to semi-normal, but how mistaken I was! As unpleasant as it may sound, I would encourage everyone to make as many funeral plans as possible while still living. I had no idea it took so much planning and decision-making in an extremely short time.

At any rate, my dad's funeral was extremely nice, if such an adjective can be applied. The clergy and florist and all the dozens of others who helped were outstanding, and it was well-attended. He was given a first-class sendoff, which is exactly what he would have wanted. Many many thanks to all my friends who called, emailed, came to the viewing and/or funeral, and just generally rallied around. I love you all, and thank you.

Now...looking ahead, I am eager to get started on rehearsal for Dames At Sea, which will begin in a couple of weeks. There is also Santa In Space at BCT, in which I play an alien. I smell a Tony. Toss in a couple of Vulcan performances and an installment or two of Politically Incorrect Cabaret, and it looks like the fall will be pretty full theatrically.

Speaking of theatrics, The Trial Of Larry Langford begs to be musicalized, and I think my friend Debbie Buie is working on it right now. I do hope Sherman Helmsley will be available for the title role. If the guy who played the prosecuting attorney in My Cousin Vinny is still alive, he would make a good Jim Parkman...perhaps the Jabba The Hutt puppet for John Katapodis?

In today's News From The Motherland...continued debate over global warming...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/8249668.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Food, Glorious Food...

Day 19: "Anyone's entitled to be ugly but some people abuse the privilege." - Benny Hill

Today has been a day of huge feasting, which is to be expected, I suppose. There have been SO many sweet and wonderful people bringing food to my mother's house, and I don't want to insult anyone by omission, so I will just say THANK YOU to everyone who has come. It has been most appreciated.

I have been contemplating the motivation behind bringing food when someone dies. I suppose the basic goal is to save the family from having to worry about cooking or going out to eat...but I wonder if it doesn't go deeper than that. Food is symbolic, of course, of life. Is the unspoken message "life must go on?" Is there some spiritual "feeding the body feeds the soul" philosophy here? Or is it simply one of those kindnesses that have become so ritualized that nobody really knows the origin?

...or are people just essentially nice, good, and caring?

I'm opting for the latter. Any cynicsm I ever had about the basic goodness of Man (capital deliberate) has evaporated over the past few days.

In today's News From The Motherland...Sudan shows a remarkable moment of sanity.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8244339.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Hail To The Chief

Day 18: Please, don't squeeze the Charmin.

I wish I had fifty kids today, so I could sign fifty permission forms allowing my children to hear the president's speech. The actions of the reactionary right continue to mystify me...and no, I am not being a hypocrite. If George W. Bush had prepared an address to the children of America, I would have said that the kids should hear it. Politics aside, no reasonable person can honestly think that a sitting president would say something inappropriate in a speech being broadcast to millions of schoolchildren. (Cue the sigh and eye roll...)

Not much else to report. Just a short political rant today.

In today's News From The Motherland...Venice lauds Pixar.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/8241282.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

Wet And Squishy

Day 17: Life goes on.

Today's title sounded more like an advertisement for a family-themed water park or a pair of secondary mischeif-making characters in a 70's sitcom...but, alas, it was simply a reference to the weather. It has been rainy today, but it's been pleasant. I sometimes enjoy a couple of days of steady, constant light rainfall. A crashing thunderstorm is exciting, but generally short-lived, whereas a heavy sprinkle may go on for hours and days. It's excellent napping weather.

My mother, my sister and I have gone into full-swing preparation mode for my dad's funeral. I have, of course, heard countless people talk about how complicated and involved the planning process is, but I always assumed that to be some sort of situational hyperbole...I mean come on, how difficult can it be to make a couple of phone calls and simple decisions?

Needless to say, my uppance has come for that little touch of hauteur.

It will certainly all get done, but I am now among the countless who will nod sympathetically at the recently bereaved and mumble some vague comment about how tough it is to make all the required arrangements. We have played divide and conquer on the event, and my main task has been handling things with the church. While everyone there has been wonderfully helpful and kind, it's just the sheer magnitude of the information one has to collect in such a short time that seems overwhelming....what's the last name of his friend who agreed to be a pallbearer?...what scripture reading would we like?...how many pews will be required for the family?...Sweet Mother Of God, I don't usually ponder this many questions in an hour, and now they all need to be answered on the spot in rapid succession... at one point I thought about simply shouting out random nonsense answers...orange! Seventeen! Photosynthesis! Henry V! It would have given the church staff something to talk about at lunch, at least... (btw, everything did get handled, and painlessly. If you ever have to execute a complicated task at a sad time, you couldn't be in better hands than those at Cathedral Church of the Advent. My fondest thanks to them.)

On other subjects, I have noticed that football season seems to have begun. I am sure I will go to a few parties this season, but I truly couldn't care less about the game. As a southern male, I am supposed to have the sports gene, but I just don't. Even stranger is the fact that I am a southern male who is also a graduate of The University Of Alabama, that football-mad elysium for those whose greatest dream is to attend a four-year sports bacchanal with an occasional class tossed in. Don't get me wrong...I love my alma mater, and I got an excellent education and had lots of fun. I just never understood the thrill behind sitting and watching 22 people lining up and crashing into each other in contest over the ability to run with a small ball across a grassy lawn towards an oddly-shaped giant fork.

I am, however, in a very tiny minority, and I am aware of that. ;-)

An irony of not complete insignificance dwells in the fact that aside from the game (or match or meet or whatever) I usually very much enjoy most of the activity surrounding a sporting event. I love football parties, provided there are enough party-goers rotating into the kitchen or bar area to talk to me. I love tailgate parties, especially if the weather is cool. I have been to one professional baseball game, and I felt like I was at a huge amusement park, which was delightful. I even like the sound of a football game being broadcast over the radio, which reminds me of Saturday afternoons in the fall when my parents would listen to the radio broadcasts of those UA games that were not televised. Sports stadium food? Love it! Slightly mushy hot dogs, popcorn, peanuts and beer...what's not to like? I love the feeling of togetherness that comes with visiting good friends during a televised game and sitting together around the tv. Above all, I love an excuse to drink at 11am and not look trashy. It's just watching the event itself that puts me to sleep. Oh well, it's not like I've never been the odd one before... ;-)

In today's News From The Motherland...a quest for truth in cigarette branding.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/8239028.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

A Non-Depressing Retrospective

Day 16: Not the happiest of days. This, however, is a happy post.

If there are any among my handful of readers who are keeping up with the dates of postings, I will confess to them that I did, indeed, skip a day of posting on my 365-day marathon. Given the circumstances, I think you will all give me a pass this once.

My dad passed away early this morning, just after midnight. My mother and sister were with him when he died, and assured me that it was peaceful, relaxed, and all the other things one seeks in a "good" death. While we are all very sad, of course, all of the cliches about relief at the end of great suffering can and must be applied. He had been basically immobile for a couple of months, the result of which was tremendous discomfort. He was (due to a combination of ever-lessening oxygen to the brain and massive painkillers) either somewhat disoriented or asleep for the last couple of weeks of his life. We will miss him, but he was ready to go.

I sincerely hope that it does not seem disrespectful or cold to compose a blog post on a day like this, but it just seems like the thing to do. A wonderful, loving, funny, delightful soul is gone, and if I can communicate just a bit of his essence to even one person...well, I will have done a good thing.

For those who never met my dad (called "Bud" by his children, his wife, and everyone who knew him...a slightly truncated version of his childhood nickname, "Buddy Boy,") he was an extremely warm person. While almost a bit shy, he genuinely enjoyed getting to know people, particularly my and my sister's friends. He wasn't just polite and detatched...he asked them questions, honestly listened to the answers, and remembered a little point of reference for everyone he met. Even if he was only able to toss in something along the lines of "your mother is a nurse, right?" or "I remember you...you like baseball," he was always able to personalize any subsequent meeting with a new acquaintance. I am happy to say that my friends always liked him.

Guests brought home to my parents' house always left slightly fatter, a fact that always delighted my dad. For some bizarre reason he took great interest in what people ate. If you were around him more than once or twice, chances are you were asked what you had for breakfast or lunch that day, dinner the night before, etc. Again,this was no mere courtesy question. He was, for whatever reason, honestly fascinated with the subject. He might just nod and say a word or two of admiration/approval, or he may ask detailed questions about how whatever it was tasted/was prepared/etc. I was simultaneously delighted and perplexed by this.

Kids were important to my dad, and he had a very soft and tender heart when it came to them. Although he was definitely thrifty by nature, the one cause that would always have him reaching for his wallet was needy children. He gave to Toys For Tots, The Salvation Army's Christmas efforts, and that sort of thing, but more telling still were the numerous times I would see him slip a few bills to one of his employees who may have been having a tough go of it, telling them to "get a little surprise for Jimmy" (or Suzie, or Billy, or Vladimir, or whatever the child's name happened to be.) After the recipient walked away, he would usually say something very vague along the lines of "they don't have much, and that little kid needs some toys" or "bless his heart, that poor fellow works like a horse, and they don't have much, but they have a little girl at home and she needs something nice." That's the kind of person he was. (Incidentally, if he said "bless his heart," it wasn't southern shorthand for "as soon as I say this, I can say something hateful." He really wished blessings upon the subject in reference.)

While certainly intelligent and educated, Bud never stopped being himself. I have always thought of my dad as a cross between Buddy Ebsen and Andy Griffith. He was smart, but slightly folksy, with a quick wit that dwelled comfortably within a soft-spoken, gently drawling ease. He was always the perfect gentleman, never once losing his manners (he would sooner have died than to have taken a bite of food before my mother started eating) but never made those around him feel anything but completely relaxed. If I can ever be half as genteel as he was, I will be just fine.

My dad also had a splendid sense of humor. We usually found the same things funny...we were both great fans of Are You Being Served, the 1970's British sitcom set in a department store (clearly meant to depict Harrod's.) It seems so ridiculous to remember this right now, but there was one particular moment where one character told another to "hold himself in readiness" which made us both laugh uncontrollably. (Yes, I came by my eccentricity honestly...) The Three Stooges, Larry McMurtry novels, Soap, and any movie starring Richard Pryor would always crack us up. He also shared my love of comedy arising from the completely random or misplaced. One of his (and my) favorite musicals, Oliver!, tells the story of the cruelly mistreated Oliver Twist. Whenever Oliver asked for more gruel, one or both (usually both) of us would say "greedy little bastard." Laughter would always follow, each of us as amused as we were the 50 times preceeding.

My dad was an outdoorsman, and he loved to fish (a passion which I share) and to hunt (which I do not.) He also enjoyed sports, which I don't. In so many cases, this would be a perfect setup for a bad relationship. In my case, not so...Bud never pushed his interests onto me, nor did he express anything less than a sincere interest in mine. (While I never got him onstage, I did get him into the audience about a bajillion times. :-) He frequently said that you don't "raise" your children as much as you "let them unfold." This was a civilized man.

We both appreciated and enjoyed election years, and my dad had an almost encyclopedic knowledge of 20th century American politics. This shared enthusiasm gave birth to some of the best conversations we ever had. I remember driving home after seeing A Christmas Carol at ASF. Bud had driven from Birmingham to Tuscaloosa (where I lived,) where we had dinner and then rode down to Montgomery together. Driving back in a thick fog, we had to drive very slowly for safety. Somehow we started talking about the Nixon White House, Nixon's pre-Watergate accomplishments, and his (Nixon's) grasp on foreign policy. It was a discussion straight out of Firing Line or McNeil-Lehrer...completely cerebral/intellectual, and with a hint of look-how-smart-we-are.

Five minutes later, we were both laughing at my imitation of a drunken, foul-mouthed Bob Dole cursing out a crowd of reporters. God, his sense of humor...

Bud was a very cautious, calm, "let's think this out clearly" sort of fellow. This quality made his few massive blunders perfectly marvelous. The one which comes immediately to mind is the never-ending backyard fence. Two summers ago, he decided to erect a fence so that his dog could play in the backyard. Fine. Good. So far, normal. Ever the devoted son, I agreed to dig "a little trench" along one side of the yard to level off the ground so that the top of the fence would be level. This was originally sold to me as a two-days-at-the-most project...

Two years later, and still no fence. There is a huge, gaping gash in my parents' backyard. Seriously, it looks like baby Superman's rocket skidded to a halt behind the house. I have moved the square-foot equivalent of Rhode Island in dirt. Three refineries' worth of fence posts have disappeared into the abyss...and the dog still lives in the basement. Oh well, he seems happy there...

I could go on and on, but I won't. If you've read this far, you've gotten the point. My dad is gone, and I am going to miss him like hell, but I am truly grateful for the 39 years I had with him. They were fun, they were happy, and they were interesting. Most of all, I never doubted for one second that I was completely, totally, and unconditionally loved.

No News From The Motherland today. This is Father's Day. :-)

Cheers!
FLT3

Wal-Mart Dreams And Stranger Things...

Day 15: Fancy Wedgwood can fit in with casual cousins...or so says the newspaper.

Last night I found myself once again at Wal-Mart, the great mecca of all commerce. It was, as usual, a pleasant enough experience. As much as one can point to Wal-Mart as an example of all that is excessive about American culture, I must confess that I, like everyone else, would be lost without it.

Wal-Mart (along with it's upscale cousin, Target) has truly redefined the concept of shopping over the past 25 years or so. While convenience stores and department stores certainly existed in the pre-WM era, Sam Walton's brainchild was one of the first megamart shopping arenas. For the first time, one could buy groceries, housewares, plants and automotive supplies under one roof, and at affordable prices. Now that the roster of services offered has expanded to include an optical clinic, various fast-food emporiums (emporii?) and a beauty salon, all Wal-Mart really needs to be a self-contained community is a school system and a hospital. One could arguably live an entire lifetime without leaving Wal-Mart, much like the Chinese boat people who never touch dry land.

When I was a kid, I remember the Saturday shopping trips I used to take with my mother and sister. These were all-day events, which included (usually) a trip to Loveman's (a department store which no longer exists,) Rich's (ditto,) Pizitz (are you spotting a pattern? Perhaps we inadvertently cursed these places somehow) and at least one or two other department stores. We would usually make a pass through the bookstore and sometimes a music shop. There was always a break for lunch somewhere, followed by a visit to the (yes) now-defunct Pizitz Bake Shop for pastries for Sunday morning. All of this can now be accomplished for the most part at Wal-Mart, with the exception of higer-end clothing...but can it really be too long before a couture boutique and/or Brooks Brothers outlet opens in WM? I wouldn't be surprised...

Which begs the question: has the convenience of the Wal-Mart/Target (et al) era homogenized some of the fun out of a shopping trip? As is usually the case, has efficiency and order somehow robbed the experience of a certain charm? The family dinner table has given way to microwave and/or takeout food eaten whenever the individual's schedule will allow, and the daily newspaper gasps out a dying breath at the hands of up-to-the-minute internet news feeds...can shopping as recreation be on the decline? I certainly hope not.

On the other hand, as long as there are people who need dog food, Liz Taylor cologne and/or a John Grisham novel at 3am, Wal-Mart will ever serve a purpose.

In today's News From The Motherland...the Mini provides jobs.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/oxfordshire/8235025.stm

Cheers!
FLT3

When Will The Madness End...?

Day 14: Fish don't fry in the kitchen. Beans don't burn on the grill.

Well, friends, the news is out. Those bastions of fertility and right-wing thought, The Duggars, are having another baby. Say it ain't so, I know...as wild as it sounds, the tv reality show that was once called 17 Kids And Counting, and then 18 Kids And Counting, will soon have to add 19 to the title.

Patriarch (and clearly randy old bastard) Jim Bob Duggar just can't keep his hands off the luscious Michelle, with her fundamentalist hair and ankle-length skirts. Then again, what man could resist? There's just something about her, I suppose...maybe it's her rapier wit and intellect...

The Duggars have several children who are clearly destined to go bad (including a daughter who's on the fast train to slutsville and a son who looks as if he might enjoy starting fires,) a few that may or may not be brain-damaged, and at least one that is already pretty blatantly homosexual. These are the fun, entertaining ones who will most likely grow up to become adults you would want to invite to a party.

On the other end of the spectrum, several of the litter have obviously upended the Kool-Aid glass and come back asking for more. Holy-rolly fundamentalism seems to appeal to them, and they look and act like the mealy little prats who always made hall monitor. These are the uptight, priggish ones you really want to slap.

I have been gently reprimanded on more than one occasion for my attitude surrounding this circus of procreative arts, and I really don't mean to be unkind. I obviously watch the show (even if it is largely to make fun of it) and I must confess...I enjoy it. Yes, it may be akin to the enjoyment one gets from watching a car crash, but still...

Just for the record, The Duggars DO seem happy, and Jim Bob clearly rules with a velvet glove around the iron fist. He reminds you of the goofy but well-meaning hick at work who really wants to be liked, so you begrudgingly become his friend...and then realize that he is oddly likeable. Michelle is just too damn exhausted from shooting out kids to be much more than vaguely complacent, and most of the kids are amusing in one way or another.

I think what bothers me is the whole "Quiverfull" concept, to which the Duggars clearly subscribe. In short, it is a movement (popularized by appalachian fundamentalists,) which basically says to have as many kids as possible so they (the kids) can all grow up and vote Republican. No, I'm not kidding. If the Duggars keep going at this rate, they can influence Arkansas politics for years to come...

Oh well, they seem to be able to afford a houseful of kids, so good for them...it just seems contra naturam to have children younger than one's grandchildren. What's sad is that this is not the weirdest thing about these people...they condemn dancing as sinful, but mom and dad are clearly lust-driven sex maniacs with an Aqua Net fetish. It's amusing yet unsettling...and by the way, they are cerebral sophisticates compared to their friends, the Bates Family. I won't say the Bateses are inbred, but they missed a good chance. Imagine an Amish family without the old-world charm and more irritating accents.

Tune in next time...

In today's News From The Motherland...no cell phones in the pub.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/wear/8232798.stm

Cheers!
FLT3