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
Monday, September 07, 2009
Sunday, September 06, 2009
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
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
Saturday, September 05, 2009
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
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
Friday, September 04, 2009
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
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
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
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
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
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
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
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
Monday, August 31, 2009
A Circle Completed
Day 13: Mad Dogs And Englishmen Go Out In The Noonday Sun.
A disclaimer for anyone who might read this. IT IS NOT DEPRESSING, I PROMISE. The way today's reflection starts out might lead one to believe that a tear-jerker approaches, but that's not the case.
Today I spent a great deal of time at my parents' house. Many of you know that my dad is in terrible health, and has been for some time. Well over a year ago, his doctor said he only had a couple of months left, so we have had him much longer than anticipated, which is truly a gift from God. At any rate, his condition is quite bad, and he's basically bedridden.
One of the challenges we face in dealing with dad is his unwillingness to eat. He seldom takes more than a bite or two of anything, and eating half a bowl of soup is cause for celebration. Today, out of nowhere, he said he thought he would eat some boiled shrimp. I beat a hasty path to The Fish Market, and said shrimp were procured. By the time I got back, he was a little groggy but still slightly hungry. To facilitate matters, I told him I would peel them and all he had to do was enjoy his lunch. Here's where the flashback begins...
When I was maybe 7 or 8, I remember dad coming home from work one day with a large plastic bag full of boiled shrimp he had bought at some sort of fund-raiser (Lion's Club, maybe?) and asking me if I would like to have some. At this point in my life I was a fan of fried shrimp, but boiled...not so sure. After a little coaxing, I agreed to try one, and was immediately a fan.
Never having been the most dextrous of kids, I soon found myself struggling with the peeeling process. Ever indulgent, dad got a little white bowl that I used to eat cereal from (wow, the things you remember) and peeled about a dozen, dropping the ready-to-eat bites into the bowl for me. I can't tell you a single thing we discussed, but I remember realizing(even at such a young age) that this was one of those really sweet and special moments in life. I can still see the crackers, tobasco, and cocktail sauce on the table, surrounded by newspaper and shrimp peelings, a large lemon slice dominating the center of the table. I can still smell the pungent scent of crab boil. I can still hear the wind blowing in the trees. (We had to eat on the patio, as my mother is violently "allergic" to the smell of anything that once swam. :-)
This little tableau dominated my thoughts as I made dad's meal easy to eat today. Now, if this was a tear-jerky "movie of the week" scenario, I would have left the room, leaned against the wall and cried piteously. However, the exact opposite took place. I felt happy.
Yes, believe it or not, I felt happy.
Those of us who are lucky enough to have long-lived parents will eventually face the role of caretaker to they who once took care. It's natural, appropriate, and the way of things. My parents have done a tremendous amount for my sister and me, and we're all too glad to give something back. Is it fun? No. Do I wish my dad could be the same funny, vibrant, happy, playful guy he was even 10 years ago? Absolutely.
Do I gladly and happily give back what little I can to a person who, patriarchy aside, was also one of my very best friends? Without a doubt.
Enough of that...I promised it wasn't sad, and I think that promise was accurate. If you found it sad, send in a refund request and you can have your money back. ;-)
In today's News From The Motherland...drunken teens run wild.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/education/8227443.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
A disclaimer for anyone who might read this. IT IS NOT DEPRESSING, I PROMISE. The way today's reflection starts out might lead one to believe that a tear-jerker approaches, but that's not the case.
Today I spent a great deal of time at my parents' house. Many of you know that my dad is in terrible health, and has been for some time. Well over a year ago, his doctor said he only had a couple of months left, so we have had him much longer than anticipated, which is truly a gift from God. At any rate, his condition is quite bad, and he's basically bedridden.
One of the challenges we face in dealing with dad is his unwillingness to eat. He seldom takes more than a bite or two of anything, and eating half a bowl of soup is cause for celebration. Today, out of nowhere, he said he thought he would eat some boiled shrimp. I beat a hasty path to The Fish Market, and said shrimp were procured. By the time I got back, he was a little groggy but still slightly hungry. To facilitate matters, I told him I would peel them and all he had to do was enjoy his lunch. Here's where the flashback begins...
When I was maybe 7 or 8, I remember dad coming home from work one day with a large plastic bag full of boiled shrimp he had bought at some sort of fund-raiser (Lion's Club, maybe?) and asking me if I would like to have some. At this point in my life I was a fan of fried shrimp, but boiled...not so sure. After a little coaxing, I agreed to try one, and was immediately a fan.
Never having been the most dextrous of kids, I soon found myself struggling with the peeeling process. Ever indulgent, dad got a little white bowl that I used to eat cereal from (wow, the things you remember) and peeled about a dozen, dropping the ready-to-eat bites into the bowl for me. I can't tell you a single thing we discussed, but I remember realizing(even at such a young age) that this was one of those really sweet and special moments in life. I can still see the crackers, tobasco, and cocktail sauce on the table, surrounded by newspaper and shrimp peelings, a large lemon slice dominating the center of the table. I can still smell the pungent scent of crab boil. I can still hear the wind blowing in the trees. (We had to eat on the patio, as my mother is violently "allergic" to the smell of anything that once swam. :-)
This little tableau dominated my thoughts as I made dad's meal easy to eat today. Now, if this was a tear-jerky "movie of the week" scenario, I would have left the room, leaned against the wall and cried piteously. However, the exact opposite took place. I felt happy.
Yes, believe it or not, I felt happy.
Those of us who are lucky enough to have long-lived parents will eventually face the role of caretaker to they who once took care. It's natural, appropriate, and the way of things. My parents have done a tremendous amount for my sister and me, and we're all too glad to give something back. Is it fun? No. Do I wish my dad could be the same funny, vibrant, happy, playful guy he was even 10 years ago? Absolutely.
Do I gladly and happily give back what little I can to a person who, patriarchy aside, was also one of my very best friends? Without a doubt.
Enough of that...I promised it wasn't sad, and I think that promise was accurate. If you found it sad, send in a refund request and you can have your money back. ;-)
In today's News From The Motherland...drunken teens run wild.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/education/8227443.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Rainy Sunday
Day 12:
IRVING: Now, I may need your assistance in giving this shot. Are you by any chance a registered nurse?
LILA: No...but I used to be a junkie.
IRVING: Would it endanger your amateur status if I asked you to use a sterilized needle?
(from Blake Edwards' brilliant Hollywood spoof, S.O.B.)
Today has been wet, rainy and grey. While that might be a perfect prescription for depression if it happened every day, it has actually been quite cozy and cheerful. I always feel close to The Motherland when it rains, although I have spent quite a few beautiful, sunny days in Mother England. Motivated by the gloom as well as my anglophilia, I have had Tim Burton's Sweeney Todd on a constant loop while I have done various things such as cleaning the kitchen, folding clothes, etc. It's been quite nice to hear songs about murder and cannibalism while doing domestic chores.
In today's News From The Motherland...a well-attended art show.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/bristol/somerset/8230301.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
IRVING: Now, I may need your assistance in giving this shot. Are you by any chance a registered nurse?
LILA: No...but I used to be a junkie.
IRVING: Would it endanger your amateur status if I asked you to use a sterilized needle?
(from Blake Edwards' brilliant Hollywood spoof, S.O.B.)
Today has been wet, rainy and grey. While that might be a perfect prescription for depression if it happened every day, it has actually been quite cozy and cheerful. I always feel close to The Motherland when it rains, although I have spent quite a few beautiful, sunny days in Mother England. Motivated by the gloom as well as my anglophilia, I have had Tim Burton's Sweeney Todd on a constant loop while I have done various things such as cleaning the kitchen, folding clothes, etc. It's been quite nice to hear songs about murder and cannibalism while doing domestic chores.
In today's News From The Motherland...a well-attended art show.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/bristol/somerset/8230301.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Randomness Redux
Day 11: Mind The Gap.
I am passingly certain that I have titled at least one previous post "Randomness," hence the title of today's post, which I can already tell will be somewhat...well...random.
It is good to let the mind wander sometimes. While I can't say that I have created any great works of literature whilst (I know, it's affected, but I love the word "whilst") just letting my focus roam, I do believe that it has helped nurture my creativity. Free-flowing rambling can do that...
Today's newspaper has the usual assortment of cute pet photos in the LifeStyle section. Every Sunday the sweet little animals are there. There's something comforting in that.
Speaking of the newspaper, the crossword puzzles are getting too simple. I don't require a Sunday New York Times level of challenge, but neither do I want to finish in five minutes.
While (ok, I'll indulge myself) whilst still a huge fan of Jim & Nick's, I have been slightly disappointed in my last couple of trips to the bbq mecca. They appear to be getting a bit lax in re the basting of the meat in sauce while it cooks, leaving the meal as simply smoked pork with sauce poured on at serving time. REAL bbq afficionados know that the slow-cooked process involves much application of sauce during the process. The little scorched bits of end meat and caramelized sauce add immeasurably to the flavor. For the record, however, the coconut cream pie remains brilliant.
When I strike my fortune (however that may come to pass) I would love to have a driver. I know that sounds ridiculously self-indulgent, and will most likely never happen, but one of the greatest luxuries of which I can conceive is to have someone to drive me wherever I need to go. I really don't like to drive very much. I am also bad at it, as the multiple dings and scratches on my car can attest.
It's been raining a lot lately, which may portend the arrival of an early fall, which would suit me fine. I used to hate cool weather, but over the past couple of years, it has truly grown on me.
...enough randomness for now. :-)
In today's News From The Motherland...the Notting Hill Carnival begins!
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/london/8228270.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
I am passingly certain that I have titled at least one previous post "Randomness," hence the title of today's post, which I can already tell will be somewhat...well...random.
It is good to let the mind wander sometimes. While I can't say that I have created any great works of literature whilst (I know, it's affected, but I love the word "whilst") just letting my focus roam, I do believe that it has helped nurture my creativity. Free-flowing rambling can do that...
Today's newspaper has the usual assortment of cute pet photos in the LifeStyle section. Every Sunday the sweet little animals are there. There's something comforting in that.
Speaking of the newspaper, the crossword puzzles are getting too simple. I don't require a Sunday New York Times level of challenge, but neither do I want to finish in five minutes.
While (ok, I'll indulge myself) whilst still a huge fan of Jim & Nick's, I have been slightly disappointed in my last couple of trips to the bbq mecca. They appear to be getting a bit lax in re the basting of the meat in sauce while it cooks, leaving the meal as simply smoked pork with sauce poured on at serving time. REAL bbq afficionados know that the slow-cooked process involves much application of sauce during the process. The little scorched bits of end meat and caramelized sauce add immeasurably to the flavor. For the record, however, the coconut cream pie remains brilliant.
When I strike my fortune (however that may come to pass) I would love to have a driver. I know that sounds ridiculously self-indulgent, and will most likely never happen, but one of the greatest luxuries of which I can conceive is to have someone to drive me wherever I need to go. I really don't like to drive very much. I am also bad at it, as the multiple dings and scratches on my car can attest.
It's been raining a lot lately, which may portend the arrival of an early fall, which would suit me fine. I used to hate cool weather, but over the past couple of years, it has truly grown on me.
...enough randomness for now. :-)
In today's News From The Motherland...the Notting Hill Carnival begins!
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/london/8228270.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
Friday, August 28, 2009
He's A Lumberjack And He's Okay...
Day 10: Ma! Ma! Where's my Pa? Gone to The White House! Ha! Ha! Ha!"
- (Slogan referencing President Grover Cleveland, who openly acknowledged and supported an illegitimate child.)
On one of the seemingly limitless excursions I make to Wal-Mart, that great temple of All That Is Needed Immediately, I ran across a DVD of Monty Python's And Now For Something Completely Different, which has always been one of my favorite films. (The fact that it was in the $4.95 bin sort of surprised me...I assumed that everyone shared my anglophiliac tendencies and love of '70's-era comedy. Go figure.) I bought the movie, took it home, and somewhat absent-mindedly started it playing while I puttered. I was vaguely aware of the passing of several well-known (and funny) Python sketches, and was enjoying listening in a somewhat passive sense. However, my ears soon perked up and I had to stop and watch The Lumberjack Song.
For the uninitiated, here it is. Watch and then continue reading...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5zey8567bcg
Hilarious, isn't it? I still crack up at this song every time I hear it.
In the repeated re-watchings of the song over the fifteen or so minutes after it first played, I found myself realizing just how powerful a memory trigger music can be. When I first discovered Monty Python as a teenager, I had a cassette (yes, I'm THAT old) of Python routines that I kept in my car tape player. I probably played that tape a thousand times, and I will always associate certain Monty Python sketches with the late 1980's. Just hearing the familiar chords at the start of the song will remind me of that time, and of my first car (which also smelled strongly of Polo Green cologne, which, in the fashion of many young men of the day, I splashed on liberally and with a heavy hand. More on smells as memory triggers later.)
Just for the record, I also love The Philosopher's Song...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s1MgCV6uGuc&feature=related
Knights Of The Round Table...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lfGpVcdqeS0&feature=related
Every Sperm Is Sacred...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U0kJHQpvgB8&feature=related
and The Universe Song...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWVshkVF0SY&feature=related
...and many, many others. The intelligence of the lyrics is a joy, and the humor is first-rate. Enjoy the links!
In today's News From The Motherland...a prisoner extends his furlough.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/derbyshire/8228400.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
- (Slogan referencing President Grover Cleveland, who openly acknowledged and supported an illegitimate child.)
On one of the seemingly limitless excursions I make to Wal-Mart, that great temple of All That Is Needed Immediately, I ran across a DVD of Monty Python's And Now For Something Completely Different, which has always been one of my favorite films. (The fact that it was in the $4.95 bin sort of surprised me...I assumed that everyone shared my anglophiliac tendencies and love of '70's-era comedy. Go figure.) I bought the movie, took it home, and somewhat absent-mindedly started it playing while I puttered. I was vaguely aware of the passing of several well-known (and funny) Python sketches, and was enjoying listening in a somewhat passive sense. However, my ears soon perked up and I had to stop and watch The Lumberjack Song.
For the uninitiated, here it is. Watch and then continue reading...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5zey8567bcg
Hilarious, isn't it? I still crack up at this song every time I hear it.
In the repeated re-watchings of the song over the fifteen or so minutes after it first played, I found myself realizing just how powerful a memory trigger music can be. When I first discovered Monty Python as a teenager, I had a cassette (yes, I'm THAT old) of Python routines that I kept in my car tape player. I probably played that tape a thousand times, and I will always associate certain Monty Python sketches with the late 1980's. Just hearing the familiar chords at the start of the song will remind me of that time, and of my first car (which also smelled strongly of Polo Green cologne, which, in the fashion of many young men of the day, I splashed on liberally and with a heavy hand. More on smells as memory triggers later.)
Just for the record, I also love The Philosopher's Song...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s1MgCV6uGuc&feature=related
Knights Of The Round Table...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lfGpVcdqeS0&feature=related
Every Sperm Is Sacred...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U0kJHQpvgB8&feature=related
and The Universe Song...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWVshkVF0SY&feature=related
...and many, many others. The intelligence of the lyrics is a joy, and the humor is first-rate. Enjoy the links!
In today's News From The Motherland...a prisoner extends his furlough.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/derbyshire/8228400.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
Thursday, August 27, 2009
What A Hoot
Day 9: Coffee is your friend.
Tonight I went with my good friend Goldstein to Hooter's for dinner. While pretty much everything on the menu is fried and/or full of sugar, the food tastes good and the atmosphere is fun. Yes, Hooter's remains one of the last bastions of blatant non-PC-ism, with waitresses in hot pants and tight t-shirts, and countless examples of trite "hooter as euphemism for female breast" humor adorning the t-shirts, wall plaques, and menu. What's actually quite interesting is how...well...innocent the place actually is.
While Hooter's obviously wishes to appeal to the frat-boy crowd (a crowd which swills copious amounts of beer, coincidentally) the clientele tends to include quite a few families. Kids are frequently seen at Hooter's, and I do believe birthday parties are even offered. I have seen plenty of middle-aged couples enjoying the heart attack inducing bill of fare, the women seemingly unfazed by the gentle chauvanism that prevails throughout the room. The waitresses seem to take it all with a grain of salt, maintaining a good humored but not inappropriate familiarity with the customers. I have never seen any misbehavior at a Hooter's, which bespeaks volumes...
Hooter's appears to reflect our American obsession with sexuality repressed. The sophomoric humor and oddly wholesome atmosphere seem to legitimize the playfully horny theme, allowing for a dash of naughtiness offset by childlike silliness. One can easily see why Hooter's has never spread to Europe. The Europeans have a much more grown-up and relaxed attitude towards sex, and would see no need to try and blend it with a modifying quasi-innocence.
...or maybe the Parisians and Viennese just don't like greasy wings and fried pickles.
In today's News From The Motherland...a dust-up over a comment from Madonna...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/8225989.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
Tonight I went with my good friend Goldstein to Hooter's for dinner. While pretty much everything on the menu is fried and/or full of sugar, the food tastes good and the atmosphere is fun. Yes, Hooter's remains one of the last bastions of blatant non-PC-ism, with waitresses in hot pants and tight t-shirts, and countless examples of trite "hooter as euphemism for female breast" humor adorning the t-shirts, wall plaques, and menu. What's actually quite interesting is how...well...innocent the place actually is.
While Hooter's obviously wishes to appeal to the frat-boy crowd (a crowd which swills copious amounts of beer, coincidentally) the clientele tends to include quite a few families. Kids are frequently seen at Hooter's, and I do believe birthday parties are even offered. I have seen plenty of middle-aged couples enjoying the heart attack inducing bill of fare, the women seemingly unfazed by the gentle chauvanism that prevails throughout the room. The waitresses seem to take it all with a grain of salt, maintaining a good humored but not inappropriate familiarity with the customers. I have never seen any misbehavior at a Hooter's, which bespeaks volumes...
Hooter's appears to reflect our American obsession with sexuality repressed. The sophomoric humor and oddly wholesome atmosphere seem to legitimize the playfully horny theme, allowing for a dash of naughtiness offset by childlike silliness. One can easily see why Hooter's has never spread to Europe. The Europeans have a much more grown-up and relaxed attitude towards sex, and would see no need to try and blend it with a modifying quasi-innocence.
...or maybe the Parisians and Viennese just don't like greasy wings and fried pickles.
In today's News From The Motherland...a dust-up over a comment from Madonna...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/8225989.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
The Lion Sleeps Tonight
Day 8: In The Jungle, The Quiet Jungle, The Lion Sleeps Tonight.
As all both of my readers may have noticed, I have semi-established a pattern of beginning the day's commentary with a non-sequitir. A strange little comment, unrelated to the subject at hand will generally follow the day's count. Today we vary from that pattern, given the somber nature of the subject. The sleeping lion is, indeed, Sen. Edward M. Kennedy.
Given my politics, it is probably no great surprise that I am in mourning. Ted Kennedy was duly dubbed "The Liberal Lion" during his tenure in The United States Senate. Upon his passing, only two senators in the history of that august institution had served for more years than Ted. He was a fixture, an icon, and a beacon to those of us who embrace the politics of the left.
I won't digress into partisanism tonight. That is for another time, and God knows Ted had his faults and excesses. However, wherever there was a cause in favor of the little man, the oppressed, or the weak and erring, Ted was leading the charge. Whatever his issues, this son of tremendous privilege and wealth never stopped pushing for a better life for those among us who (for whatever reason) fell through the cracks. His compassion will be his legacy.
Rest in peace, Teddy. You did a good job.
In today's News From The Motherland... Mr. Brown honors Senator Kennedy.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/politics/8221801.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
As all both of my readers may have noticed, I have semi-established a pattern of beginning the day's commentary with a non-sequitir. A strange little comment, unrelated to the subject at hand will generally follow the day's count. Today we vary from that pattern, given the somber nature of the subject. The sleeping lion is, indeed, Sen. Edward M. Kennedy.
Given my politics, it is probably no great surprise that I am in mourning. Ted Kennedy was duly dubbed "The Liberal Lion" during his tenure in The United States Senate. Upon his passing, only two senators in the history of that august institution had served for more years than Ted. He was a fixture, an icon, and a beacon to those of us who embrace the politics of the left.
I won't digress into partisanism tonight. That is for another time, and God knows Ted had his faults and excesses. However, wherever there was a cause in favor of the little man, the oppressed, or the weak and erring, Ted was leading the charge. Whatever his issues, this son of tremendous privilege and wealth never stopped pushing for a better life for those among us who (for whatever reason) fell through the cracks. His compassion will be his legacy.
Rest in peace, Teddy. You did a good job.
In today's News From The Motherland... Mr. Brown honors Senator Kennedy.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/politics/8221801.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Comedy Tonight
Day 7: Fall is in the air.
I suppose a more apropos title for today's musings would be "Comedy Last Night," but then the reference to the song would fall apart. At any rate, last night was open mic comedy night at The Barking Kudu, and Lovey & I went to see our friend Jack Roberts perform his routine. While Jack was very funny, as were a couple of others, the overall impression I got was that the new generation of up-and-coming comedians (at least the ones doing open mic on Mondays at the Kudu) seem to think that mere repetition of profanities will pass for comedy.
Lest I appear hypocritical, I will freely admit that I can have a potty mouth. I also enjoy crude humor, but there is a BIG difference in vulgar comedy and plain vulgarity. Richard Pryor used every word in the book in his act, and some of his material was absolutely filthy, but it was hilarious because of the strong (sub)text beneath the language and subject matter. When there's nothing funny in the routine, however, tossing in a few dozen GDMFs does very little to help.
One of the things that impressed me about the good comics (Jack included) was the obvious preparation that they put into their acts. Stand-up is deceptively simple...like improv, it has to appear effortless, yet requires a huge amount of technique and talent. It seemed last night that there were several people who literally just wandered up onstage and started talking about whatever came to mind.
Not that they asked my opinion, but I think The Barking Kudu could actually turn this into something quite good. Although it is technically "open mic," there should probably be a screening process of sorts just to weed out the 20-year-old college kids who think mumbling about sex and drinking and saying f**k 300 times in one sentence equals inspired comedy.
In today's News From The Motherland... a mayor has underwear issues...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/lancashire/8219619.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
I suppose a more apropos title for today's musings would be "Comedy Last Night," but then the reference to the song would fall apart. At any rate, last night was open mic comedy night at The Barking Kudu, and Lovey & I went to see our friend Jack Roberts perform his routine. While Jack was very funny, as were a couple of others, the overall impression I got was that the new generation of up-and-coming comedians (at least the ones doing open mic on Mondays at the Kudu) seem to think that mere repetition of profanities will pass for comedy.
Lest I appear hypocritical, I will freely admit that I can have a potty mouth. I also enjoy crude humor, but there is a BIG difference in vulgar comedy and plain vulgarity. Richard Pryor used every word in the book in his act, and some of his material was absolutely filthy, but it was hilarious because of the strong (sub)text beneath the language and subject matter. When there's nothing funny in the routine, however, tossing in a few dozen GDMFs does very little to help.
One of the things that impressed me about the good comics (Jack included) was the obvious preparation that they put into their acts. Stand-up is deceptively simple...like improv, it has to appear effortless, yet requires a huge amount of technique and talent. It seemed last night that there were several people who literally just wandered up onstage and started talking about whatever came to mind.
Not that they asked my opinion, but I think The Barking Kudu could actually turn this into something quite good. Although it is technically "open mic," there should probably be a screening process of sorts just to weed out the 20-year-old college kids who think mumbling about sex and drinking and saying f**k 300 times in one sentence equals inspired comedy.
In today's News From The Motherland... a mayor has underwear issues...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/lancashire/8219619.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
Monday, August 24, 2009
I Want A Bulldog
Day 6: Collect $200 for passing Go.
It will come as no great shock to all several of my readers that I want a bulldog. To be perfectly clear, I want two bulldog puppies, to be named Churchill and Atlee or Thurston and Lovey, depending on the day. That is to say that on different days I envision them as having either set of names. Their names, once set, will not change from day to day.
Bulldogs are a sort of love-em-or-hate-em breed. Yes, they are celebrated for their flatulence, they are frequently spittle-flecked due to an alarming tendency to slobber, coupled with ownership of a tongue that usually seems to outsize a small automobile, and they require a tremendous amount of care and upkeep. Fine. I can live with all of that.
One only has to look into the scowling maw of a fussy bulldog or to gaze upon the toothy, open-mouthed smile of a joyous one to understand just how adorable these creatures can be. It may sound strange to describe their wrinkled jowls, squat bodies, and overall fireplug appearance as beautiful, but that's exactly how I see it.
For the moment, I live in an apartment which is much too small for a large dog, and Lovey has yet to completely warm to the idea of adding another pet or two to her household, which already includes a dog and a cat. That notwithstanding, I adore these sweet, pugnacious, delightful animals, and I have no doubt that one (or more) will have a place in my life at some point in time. :-)
In today's News From The Motherland... a new Olympic stamp.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/8218667.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
It will come as no great shock to all several of my readers that I want a bulldog. To be perfectly clear, I want two bulldog puppies, to be named Churchill and Atlee or Thurston and Lovey, depending on the day. That is to say that on different days I envision them as having either set of names. Their names, once set, will not change from day to day.
Bulldogs are a sort of love-em-or-hate-em breed. Yes, they are celebrated for their flatulence, they are frequently spittle-flecked due to an alarming tendency to slobber, coupled with ownership of a tongue that usually seems to outsize a small automobile, and they require a tremendous amount of care and upkeep. Fine. I can live with all of that.
One only has to look into the scowling maw of a fussy bulldog or to gaze upon the toothy, open-mouthed smile of a joyous one to understand just how adorable these creatures can be. It may sound strange to describe their wrinkled jowls, squat bodies, and overall fireplug appearance as beautiful, but that's exactly how I see it.
For the moment, I live in an apartment which is much too small for a large dog, and Lovey has yet to completely warm to the idea of adding another pet or two to her household, which already includes a dog and a cat. That notwithstanding, I adore these sweet, pugnacious, delightful animals, and I have no doubt that one (or more) will have a place in my life at some point in time. :-)
In today's News From The Motherland... a new Olympic stamp.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/8218667.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Ten Times Your Money...
Day 5: It's interesting to note that in today's television climate The Brady Bunch would not be a large enough family to qualify for a reality show.
I thought I had struck it rich today. I was given my change at the Piggly Wiggly and among the coins was a 1944 Mercury dime. Visions of a coin collector offering thousands fueled my avaricious fantasies. I was going to make my fortune on a stroke of luck...having been handed a priceless coin as change...
After consulting Google, I now know that the coin is worth a staggering TEN TIMES it's face value! (Which is a dollar. ;-)
Lesson for the day, kids...it may sound like a great deal, multiplying your money by a factor of ten, but if all you start with is a dime, it's not that impressive.
In today's News From The Motherland...UK casualties in Afghanistan continue to climb...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/8203711.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
I thought I had struck it rich today. I was given my change at the Piggly Wiggly and among the coins was a 1944 Mercury dime. Visions of a coin collector offering thousands fueled my avaricious fantasies. I was going to make my fortune on a stroke of luck...having been handed a priceless coin as change...
After consulting Google, I now know that the coin is worth a staggering TEN TIMES it's face value! (Which is a dollar. ;-)
Lesson for the day, kids...it may sound like a great deal, multiplying your money by a factor of ten, but if all you start with is a dime, it's not that impressive.
In today's News From The Motherland...UK casualties in Afghanistan continue to climb...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/8203711.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
Saturday, August 22, 2009
FLAT
Day 4: Keep On The Sunny Side.
Today I had a flat tire. I don't recall the last time I had one, but it's been a while. After pondering the cosmic injustice of my having been afflicted with a problem about whose solution I know very little, I started the process of getting it repaired. That will be accomplished by tomorrow. On Monday, I re-join AAA. (Note to those who know me...take careful notice that the letter "A" appears three times.)
In today's News From The Motherland...BT discontinues recruitment plan...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/8216762.stm?lsm
Cheers!
FLT3
Today I had a flat tire. I don't recall the last time I had one, but it's been a while. After pondering the cosmic injustice of my having been afflicted with a problem about whose solution I know very little, I started the process of getting it repaired. That will be accomplished by tomorrow. On Monday, I re-join AAA. (Note to those who know me...take careful notice that the letter "A" appears three times.)
In today's News From The Motherland...BT discontinues recruitment plan...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/8216762.stm?lsm
Cheers!
FLT3
Friday, August 21, 2009
Rain
Day 3: If tin whistles are made of tin, what do they make foghorns out of?
Last night brought a somewhat torrential downpour, along with the thunder and lightning that make summer storms so glorious. Having always loved thunderstorms, I spent as much time as possible standing on my balcony, watching the sheets of water billow their way across the sky. There's always a feeling of anticipation that comes with a good storm...a hunch that something grand is about to happen.
Rain is something that has always fascinated me. I remember as a very small child rigging a garden hose to the top of my swing set so that I could stand beneath the spray and hold an umbrella. The fact that my parents found this behavior neither strange nor out of character should probably tell me something...
Sleeping during a thunderstorm comes very naturally to me. Of course, sleeping under any conditions has never been too difficult for me, either.
Enough about rain...it's just nice that we are having some. Maybe it will cool things off...I used to hate cold weather with a passion, but over the past few years, I have grown to appreciate it.
On a completely unrelated topic, a big shout-out to my good friend Darrell Cartwright, who posted the first comment yesterday, following my absence from blogging. Confirmed readers...1 and counting... :-)
In today's News From The Motherland...chicanery surrounding festival tickets.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/berkshire/8214352.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
Last night brought a somewhat torrential downpour, along with the thunder and lightning that make summer storms so glorious. Having always loved thunderstorms, I spent as much time as possible standing on my balcony, watching the sheets of water billow their way across the sky. There's always a feeling of anticipation that comes with a good storm...a hunch that something grand is about to happen.
Rain is something that has always fascinated me. I remember as a very small child rigging a garden hose to the top of my swing set so that I could stand beneath the spray and hold an umbrella. The fact that my parents found this behavior neither strange nor out of character should probably tell me something...
Sleeping during a thunderstorm comes very naturally to me. Of course, sleeping under any conditions has never been too difficult for me, either.
Enough about rain...it's just nice that we are having some. Maybe it will cool things off...I used to hate cold weather with a passion, but over the past few years, I have grown to appreciate it.
On a completely unrelated topic, a big shout-out to my good friend Darrell Cartwright, who posted the first comment yesterday, following my absence from blogging. Confirmed readers...1 and counting... :-)
In today's News From The Motherland...chicanery surrounding festival tickets.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/berkshire/8214352.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
Thursday, August 20, 2009
A Shrew Tamed...
Day 2: So Far So Good.
Last night Lovey and I went to final dress rehearsal for Park Players' The Taming Of The Shrew, which is directed by a very good friend who invited me to come and be part of a small test audience. It was a very enjoyable, well-acted show, and I recommend it highly to any and all. Particularly impressive to me was the pacing of the show, which never slowed down. Shakespeare can become quite slow and plodding without proper pacing, and this group keeps the show moving to the unheard beat of a brisk metronome.
Tonight will take me not to the streets of Petruchio's Verona, but back to Grovers' Corners, NH, where we have 4 remaining performances of Our Town. Several friends will be there tonight, and we've all had a few nights off, so the performance should be fresh and energetic. I have truly grown to appreciate this little play which has been the bane of countless high school drama clubs. The reason for this turnaround is simple. I had never before seen anyone older than a college student play these roles, and there are points that can not be made about adulthood by those who have never experienced it. Seeing the characters come to life through the performances of age-appropriate actors has cast the entire script in a new light. I have enjoyed the experience.
In today's News From The Motherland... a crackdown on free drink night.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/devon/8212870.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
Last night Lovey and I went to final dress rehearsal for Park Players' The Taming Of The Shrew, which is directed by a very good friend who invited me to come and be part of a small test audience. It was a very enjoyable, well-acted show, and I recommend it highly to any and all. Particularly impressive to me was the pacing of the show, which never slowed down. Shakespeare can become quite slow and plodding without proper pacing, and this group keeps the show moving to the unheard beat of a brisk metronome.
Tonight will take me not to the streets of Petruchio's Verona, but back to Grovers' Corners, NH, where we have 4 remaining performances of Our Town. Several friends will be there tonight, and we've all had a few nights off, so the performance should be fresh and energetic. I have truly grown to appreciate this little play which has been the bane of countless high school drama clubs. The reason for this turnaround is simple. I had never before seen anyone older than a college student play these roles, and there are points that can not be made about adulthood by those who have never experienced it. Seeing the characters come to life through the performances of age-appropriate actors has cast the entire script in a new light. I have enjoyed the experience.
In today's News From The Motherland... a crackdown on free drink night.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/devon/8212870.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
A Marathon Begins With The First Step...
Welcome back, old readers (all five of you) and greetings to what I hope will be many new followers of my random musings! As some of you know, I have kept this blog in a very on-again-off-again manner for several years now. Well, under the influence of Julia and Julie (or is it Julie and Julia?) I am making a vow to blog every day for a year.
Do I promise anything amazing? Not at all. Will there be a running theme? Absolutely not. Will each day continue to feature the oh-so-beloved "News From The Motherland" segment? You can count on it!
For the newcomers, expect the following:
.Utterly random observations on utterly inconsequential (but hopefully interesting) everyday items and occurrences.
. Political ranting with a decidedly liberal bent.
. News of the various goings-on in the Birmingham, AL, theatre community.
. The occasional soul-baring emotional diatribe.
. Many references to "Gilligan's Island," England, Musical Theatre, Witty Things Said By My Friends, and Current Events Of The Day.
...I hope you will all enjoy and comment as often as you like. If I know someone is actually reading, I might even make it 365 days!
And now... in today's News From The Motherland, a crackdown on fund-raising "chuggers" in the London streets...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/london/8210496.stm
FLT3
Do I promise anything amazing? Not at all. Will there be a running theme? Absolutely not. Will each day continue to feature the oh-so-beloved "News From The Motherland" segment? You can count on it!
For the newcomers, expect the following:
.Utterly random observations on utterly inconsequential (but hopefully interesting) everyday items and occurrences.
. Political ranting with a decidedly liberal bent.
. News of the various goings-on in the Birmingham, AL, theatre community.
. The occasional soul-baring emotional diatribe.
. Many references to "Gilligan's Island," England, Musical Theatre, Witty Things Said By My Friends, and Current Events Of The Day.
...I hope you will all enjoy and comment as often as you like. If I know someone is actually reading, I might even make it 365 days!
And now... in today's News From The Motherland, a crackdown on fund-raising "chuggers" in the London streets...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/london/8210496.stm
FLT3
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
After A Long Absence...
I am finally knocking the dust off my blog. Apologies to those five or six readers out there...I will (as I always do after slacking off a bit) promise to do better in future.
There is much to report...a holiday trip to Venice with Lovey was delightful. Details to come, but photos can be seen on my Facebook page (which is as addictive as crack, btw.) Rehearsals are underway for HARVEY, in which I have been cast as Dr. Chumley. I was not, alas, cast in the Gilligan tour, but c'est la show biz, I suppose...
Tonight should be fun. A group of us are singing in a concert benefitting two good friends of ours. "Lucas & Talia's Love Concert" should be very entertaining, and will hopefully give them a little something extra for their honeymoon and new life together. It's delightfully low-key but organized, and takes itself seriously enough to be good, but still retains a sense of fun.
Subbing today at VHHS. As usual, it's fairly easy, if mundane. I had hoped to catch the BCT production of GEORGE WASHINGTON CARVER, which also features several good friends, but will see it later this week.
In today's News From The Motherland... a quaint museum up for sale...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/gloucestershire/7907798.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
There is much to report...a holiday trip to Venice with Lovey was delightful. Details to come, but photos can be seen on my Facebook page (which is as addictive as crack, btw.) Rehearsals are underway for HARVEY, in which I have been cast as Dr. Chumley. I was not, alas, cast in the Gilligan tour, but c'est la show biz, I suppose...
Tonight should be fun. A group of us are singing in a concert benefitting two good friends of ours. "Lucas & Talia's Love Concert" should be very entertaining, and will hopefully give them a little something extra for their honeymoon and new life together. It's delightfully low-key but organized, and takes itself seriously enough to be good, but still retains a sense of fun.
Subbing today at VHHS. As usual, it's fairly easy, if mundane. I had hoped to catch the BCT production of GEORGE WASHINGTON CARVER, which also features several good friends, but will see it later this week.
In today's News From The Motherland... a quaint museum up for sale...
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/gloucestershire/7907798.stm
Cheers!
FLT3
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
