Cell phone etiquette...or actually the lack thereof...

You've seen it, in fact you've heard it - people who act oblivious to all those around them as they somehow imagine themselves to either, a) walk around in their own little bubbles - like a sci-fi movie - a force-field they put up which makes them impervious to any and all exterior penetration combined with some silly notion they have this Maxwell Smart "Cone of Silence"...mentality which, in turn, makes them think no one can hear them; or, b) are just more important than anyone else.

My money's on "a"...but that's neither here nor there. How someone can tune out all manner of things and in the same process, lose all manners...continues to amaze and astonish me.

Oh, I'm not saying I'm the most versed in refinement - but I don't go through check-out lines gabbing away on my phone, never acknowledging the "have a nice day"s. I also don't walk around with "Bluetooth/Hands Free" technology in the store -- looking like I'm either aimlessly talking to myself. I can't tell you the amount of times I said "excuse me?" to passing people thinking they were engaging me in conversation...only to be ignored, nary a word directed my way...totally oblivious that I exist and actually said something to them. The "tunnel-vision" glare they give - that "Stepford Wives" blank stare...is the only clue I have that I misspoke.

But the end of all breaches of cell phone etiquette - worse than the annoying guy in the theatre who "forgets" (numerous times) to turn his phone off...with EACH subsequent call and audience admonishment, was the guy who was sitting (with the obligatory empty chair between us) next to me today at the base clinic.

He gleefully sat there - in full voice - calling company after company checking on the status of various payments. HOW do I know this?? Well, it wasn't bad enough he was on hold listening to such classic ditties as Barry Manilow's "Copacabana"...apparently I had to be on hold with him. And there he sat, undoubtedly unconcerned that, instead of holding the phone to his own head, for his ear only - he felt somehow compelled to share his private insurance claim business with anyone within earshot - by taking advantage of his phone's "speaker" feature.

With phone prominently displayed in a two-hand hold before him, he sat there, legs akimbo, and slightly hunched over at the waist...his eyes intently watching "it" - like you see people portrayed watching radio programs before television was invented. It was if...he was mesmerized by it. I, on the other hand, was less impressed.

Oh, I'm sure I'm going to one day find something someone does with their cell phone more annoying, more insensitive, or more bold...this one will hold that place of "prominence", at least to me, until that time.

Ring Around The Toe-sy...

I've been wanting to do a blogumn about this for a while...but hadn't decided on an angle...thinking perhaps I just ought'n not do it (yes...I put that in specifically as an "in-joke" for one person...so there, I did it) - so, therefore, that means I will. This same person figures I'm being too much like the female version of Andy Rooney with my opinions lately...probably just because I'm getting old and curmudgeonly...but, what the heck...I'll run with it - or at least trot a little...

Just what IS it with toe and thumb rings lately? They look awfully silly and quite uncomfortable to boot. In fact...if you were wearing a toe ring AND a boot...I bet it would be all the more uncomfortable.

I remember, back in the 1960's - toe rings and thumb rings started to be quite the sensation...but they also had the Indian-inspired toe-ring "attached anklet" which made it look like much more of a fashionable accessory than the simple "got my toe caught in the gasket of my tub's faucet and I decided I'd run with it" kinda thing. In fact, if I'm not mistaken - this toe-anklet chain was quite akin to the middle finger-bracelet chain...which also had that whole "Hindu-inspired, Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, Beatles, George Harrison-influenced, Ravi Shankar, sitar-playing, patchouli incense burning" era thing going on - which, I, as a child growing up in New Jersey...would see first-hand because we frequently made near-monthly Hippie-watching pilgrimages to New Hope, Pennsylvania - way back then when these things...and Twiggy...were, literally...in vogue.

Now...I was too young to don toe rings or toe ring-anklet chains back then - but I remember them clearly as I have an older sister...who really isn't that much older than me...but always acted much older than she really was. That not being here nor there...I remember certain things distinctly...and this was one of them.

Then the 60's made way for the 70s and they, in turn, brought in the 80's and MTV and Dynasty and no one on prime-time television back then would be caught dead wearing anything less than shoulder pads and attitude. The 1990s came and fashion went out and it still really hasn't returned if you ask me...but...toe rings and thumb rings are now back...and I've just got to ask everyone...

WHY??

And the thumb rings I've seen aren't particularly attractive...they typically look like those bird-banding rings they tag onto birds in the wild to track them...plus they look about as comfortable. They aren't ornate...and simply look completely out of place on most people...but I have to keep coming back to the Indian/Hindu culture as to why there's a resurgence with them. Certainly most people aren't archers who wear them (oh, yeah...I did some research here on thumb rings)...and as far as I can tell archers really aren't on the fashion forefront...so I'm going to blame it on Bollywood.

So, my theory is that back in the 60s - Hindu influence was everywhere...and these toe and thumb rings cropped up. Of course, most of the people who are wearing these today weren't even around back then to remember any of this - fortunately there are old people like me to remember. And recently, especially with the success of "Slumdog Millionaire", Bollywood films have taken everyone by storm...thus we're thrust back into the whole concept where everything old is new again...and, like those circular toe and thumb rings...they came around again.

But, unfortunately, most people can't pull this look off...and seriously...most thumb and toe rings I've seen on people...look like they couldn't pull them off either - at least not without some pain and soap or butter involved.

Stalwart? Not Walmart.

I don't typically write about my trips to Walmart - but this one just stood out more than the others, so I thought I'd share...



I needed to pick up a few things like a battery for my nifty pedometer I've never used (but am intending to), some sunblock, some Epsom salt, and some soda. So, I pack up my daughter and head on over to the Walmart down the street a ways.

First on the list: Get the Epsom salt before I forget. But first - pull out one carriage. Defective. A second. More defective. A third...worst of the lot...go back and get the first carriage. Yes, I know I only have to get a handful of things...but I will undoubtedly forget one of them...and buy 18 more I didn't come in for - therefore I need the carriage.

I go on over to where I figure they'd stock Epsom salt. The part of the store where they have band-aids, aspirin and soap. I walk around - I walk around some more - and sure enough I spot it. Right next to this lady who works at Walmart talking to another lady who works at Walmart. Epsom salt - bottom shelf...about inch from the one lady's leg.

Now I'm not invisible the last time I checked, but wouldn't you know it - I must be invisible today! Usually when someone comes within a radius of say a foot of your personal space, most people will take notice. Nope...not these two ladies. Even with me saying "Excuse me" - they didn't even pause in their conversation to each other and neither took notice nor moved. I had my face literally at crotch level to the one lady - and seriously, it really wasn't where my head was today...nor where I wanted my head at today. Even with me saying "Uh...I need to get the Epsom salt here"...she didn't flinch a muscle. She apparently had no problem with me being close enough to be able to read the manufacturer of her zipper; I, on the other hand, did. I reached over with my arm as extended as it could go and snatched up an Epsom salt and promptly left, remarking again very loudly to my daughter "You would think they could have moved over a TINY bit so I COULD HAVE GOTTEN IT!" Hey, since I was invisible today and all...I figured I should take advantage of it and be a little jerkier than usual.

Next stop: The battery.

I need a replacement battery which goes by the name of "LR43". It's one of those round watch-types; a seemingly easy to spot kinda dealie ...but all the round ones are pretty much round and vary by 1/1,000th of a micrometer in diameter or width or circumference or whatever...and they make a LOT of them and I'm figuring with the luck I've been having lately they discontinued this exact size ages ago or just sell them in the UK.

Now had I known that this would have been like looking for the needle in the proverbial haystack I would have sought out some help when I first saw someone pass by...but I'm a big girl and I can surely find where they keep the batteries in Walmart, right?

Wrong. While I might be a "big girl" - the store is much, much bigger than I am. There's also no real rhyme nor reason order to it. Let's see...batteries right next to the muffins? Yep...sounds like there was some master planning here. Heaven knows I like to pick up some batteries when I'm buying a tasty muffin...but not this time...I needed the round kind - everyone knows the batteries they sell next to the muffins are only the double A, triple A, and C kinds. Duh!

My daughter then makes a grand assumption. A pedometer is kind of like an electronic thing - round batteries just might be in electronics? Right? Sounds logical to me. So we wheel our wonky carriage on over to the electronics aisle where we scope out the batteries and find a very small display with more empty slots than batteries and sure enough - the only round ones there were LR44s. While they look the same - I'm sure it would cause my pedometer to blow up...so I'm not going to chance it. I decide to ask the guy behind the electronics counter who looks to be a whopping two years older than my daughter. He proceeds to tell me that they are on the other side of the aisle...where again...only LR44s. Close - but nope. And they really didn't have a wide selection of any batteries there to start with. Have you seen the size of a Walmart lately? I mean they are ginormous. Surely I can't be the only person in this town to ever need a battery. These two lousy displays AND the muffin battery assortment wouldn't serve the population of Mayberry let alone Wetumpka.

Okay, let's get the soda - I know where they keep that.

Much to my chagrin there's no batteries next to the soda. What a really lame store. We'll have to look elsewhere.

Now, I vaguely remember, once upon ago, when I needed another such round battery for something - they had them where they sold the jewelry - where I initially thought of going, but was reluctant as I spied no watches there...plus after the "Epsom salt incident" I wasn't too keen on asking another woman Walmart worker anything. But she was behind a counter and my fear of getting up close and nearly personal with this one was thus alleviated. I asked her.

As luck would have it - no LR43s. She was, however, helpful and directed me over to the pharmacy where she thought all the other round batteries were kept.

They only had a couple kinds there - most were super tiny...so again, I'd have to go away empty-handed. This was getting old. We gave up the battery search.

So, we shuffle off, still pushing our incredibly wonky carriage (I'm 100 percent certain Walmart doesn't own a carriage that isn't defective in some way...all Walmarts, not just this one) to go and get sunblock. It's the last on my list after all...I am not even going after the 18 other items that I don't need this time. I just want to grab the sunblock and get out as fast as humanly possible.

We look around and around and around. Up and down all the aisles in the pharmacy-area department. Not by the hair dye, not by the body wash, not by the tampons, not by the vitamins. I was beginning to think maybe they kept sunblock next to the muffins...but I didn't go back to check. I reluctantly (whenever I ask someone in Walmart...it's always my last resort) decided to ask someone behind the pharmacy counter as both "Epsom salt" ladies were nowhere to be found. A guy was talking there forever so we decided to look some more. We found a tiny one in the "tiny things to take on trips" aisle...but I couldn't believe there'd be less choice of sunblock than there was batteries - but it didn't look good.

Back to the pharmacy window...the guy was still there. Then another lady behind there popped over and asked if she could help. "Things are looking up" I foolishly think to myself. I asked her about the sunblock and she proceeds to tell me, "I don't know - maybe it's in the outdoor gardening section." "Yeah? MAYBE???" I reiterated "MAYBE???" to her...quickly followed by "I've been all over this store for the past forty-five minutes...couldn't you PHONE someone up to let me know where they keep it instead of just 'MAYBE' it's somewhere? Maybe it's somewhere - maybe it's not?" I didn't even wait to hear her reaction and we took off down the aisle towards the outdoor section...all the while I'm muttering under my breath, "I don't work here, she works here...she's got a phone, she could have asked someone where it was. I can't believe no one in this whole store knows where anythi..." ...then I spotted it: A huge section of the aisle across from the pet food, but well before the outside department, chock full of sunblock paraphernalia. How could I have been so stupid NOT to have gone directly across the pet food aisle to look for sunblock? Just what the heck was I thinking??

Oh, I'm sure that next to the Bedazzler and knitting needles there's a whole battery section I never knew existed. THEY don't even know it exists. Next time I'm in Walmart I'll be sure to check.

(By the way, in case anyone was wondering...Walgreens stocks LR43 size batteries.)

"X-planation"...no wait..."'splaination"...no...um...oh just stop explaining it to me already, okay?

"Lucy, you got some 'splainin' to do!"

Sure, Ricky Ricardo said it often...and poor Lucy would sometimes accommodate him by trying to conjure up some far-fetched explanation for her silliest of lame-brained schemes. Now, the joke was usually on Ricky as he, continually, was the one in the dark while, we, as the audience knew what Lucy had been up to all along. Of course this was really Hollywood and we all knew better...but...Hollywood still has a lot of 'splainin' to do - and to them, we're all a bunch of Rickys to their Lucy.

Picture if you will...a dilemma of sorts. How do you interject complicated phrases which are commonplace to, say...a doctor, a lawyer, the FBI, the crime scene investigators, a brilliant scientist conversing with another...and well, you get the point by now I'm sure...in your movie or show but still get the point across to the lay person?

Certainly words that are way beyond most people's scope of reasoning are bantered about by people who know what they mean all the time. You wouldn't expect a doctor to explain to his colleagues each time he rattles off a chain of ten dollar words. You wouldn't expect the DOD to stop using acronyms ASAP just because their ASCON and their ASD can't figure out what their GORP over in CE is saying. You wouldn't expect there's a lot of explanation on film...but...if you delve deeper into the script you can tell that Hollywood must take us for a bunch of popcorn munching morons.

Without sounding condescending...let me explain...

...I really started noticing this quite a few years ago but I didn't think too much of it. But ever since I rented the entire nine seasons of "The X-Files" back-to-back and played them episode after episode, night after night...I began to see a common thread.

What normally would occur one week to another as the series aired wasn't exactly obvious - but when viewed in this repetitive fashion, I noticed something which was cleverly laced over like the so many layers of dialogue which made this show such a hit. Whenever Scully (the female FBI agent) would be doing an autopsy on some poor misfortunate soul who lost his life battling a Chupacabra or some bile-sucking creepazoid...she would say to Mulder (the male FBI agent) a whole string of very technical sounding jargon. Then Mulder would innocently ask, "You mean her flesh was literally being dissolved by this fat sucking vampire like a spider dissolves his prey before he eats it?" Of course, that's not the exact wording (far from it)...but you get the idea, right? Chances are good if she just mentioned something clinical about lipids and amino acids and recombinant DNA and whatnot - the whole point would be lost on the majority of the viewing public...and we'd pretty much be staring at the screen shaking and scratching our collective heads going "huh?"

Now, you do get what I'm trying to say, right? I mean, I wouldn't really have to simplify it further for you at this point...but apparently - when you slap something on film...even the most elementary of dialogue tends to be dumbed down in this way...sometimes to the point of comic proportions.

I don't know how many of you have ever watched the show "NUMB3RS"...but when I watched it the first couple seasons (I had to...long story) it just didn't have the finesse that "The X-Files" had. It was painfully obvious the whole premise was...pretty much astronomically impossible to take seriously. The show centered around a math genius with a whole slew of inept FBI agents who didn't even know what the words "triangulate his location" meant - and without this one agent's math-whiz brother to solve case after case on his blackboard in the father's basement...well, the entire FBI would just be a bunch of bumbling Inspector Clouseaus hopelessly trying to find the way out of the building each nite.

Then you have the extreme "duh" factor...where the movie industry clearly doesn't think we are as smart as any fifth grader. Not only do they insult us by clearly defining what a word is...but they take it one step further...they clearly insult us by making us believe the character being spoken to doesn't have a clue either.

Case in point: Most of us have probably seen the Spiderman films. Who wouldn't? They are fun - Spiderman's fun...there's nifty CGI effects, geek turned hero to save the day, bad guys get their comeuppance...just a fun time for all...right? Well...aside from Mary Jane screaming her face off each time and whining "boo-hoo, no one loves me as an actress in New York City" where you only have 20 billion people all sharing the stage with you, most of which have connections, are better actresses, or have a resume longer than you can hold that sustained eardrum-bleeding banshee yell of yours...it goes a bit silly with the characterizations. Peter Parker aka Spiderman...is supposed to be a brilliant guy. He was shown to be superiorly intelligent in the first film...his diametrically opposed, 'superiorly stupid' best friend's dad, who just happens to own a business where he can become an evil maniac on the side...covets him as a future employee. In the second installment he expounds exponentially - bouncing mind-boggling theories of infinitesimal knowledgeable know-how off of this prominent, world-reknown scientist ("Doctorpus" as I call him) who also has the wherewith all (and unlimited funds) to be able to build his own maniacal evil-doer side business at the drop of a hat as well. So, it is now established...Peter Parker is quite the intellectual...he knows his stuff. He could beat pretty much you and me at "Trivial Pursuit", especially those green Science questions. He'd whoop our butts at "Jeopardy!"...but...he doesn't have a clue what a symbiotic relationship IS in the third film...as this dialogue which takes place ensues:

Professor: "Don't let any of that get on you..." (pointing to the black
jumping threadlike blob under the glass).

Peter Parker:
"Why?"

Professor: "It has the characteristics of a symbiote...which needs
to bond to a host to survive..."

Now, I don't know about you - but I knew what "symbiotic" meant back in - well...a LONG time ago. My son knows what it is...my daughter knows what it is...if my cats could talk...THEY'D know what it was. How on Earth did they not realize good ole Spidey-boy would, too?

So, in one fell swoop (Spiderman pun clearly not intended - but highly suggested) not only do they insult our intelligence...but they insult poor Parker in the process. This is inexcusable in my opinion. Hollywood didn't used to do this. Did the witch in "The Wizard of Oz" explain to the flying monkeys why the poppies will make them all sleep? Did "Citizen Kane" have to whack us on the head to get us to know this story clearly was written about William Randolph Hearst? Did Dickens need to have the three ghosts come back twice in order to get the message across to Scrooge? I think not! They didn't need to do it back then in film and they really don't need to do it now. We're really not THAT stupid...the ones who are...well, there's always the opportunity to Google it when they get home IF they can remember that far into the future. For the rest of us...stop doing it!

"But, why?" they'd undoubtedly ask...because heaven knows it always, always, always needs to be explained even further. Because...well...frankly, my dear Hollywood...we do know a damn.

"B" Rating Okay; Berating Not Okay

I was glancing over the "news" stories they feature on AOL's main page the other day (by now "the other week"...as I've sat on this idea for a while) and happened upon one which piqued my interest: Doctors Seek to Silence Online Reviews . Honestly, I'm reluctant to click on any of AOL's "news" links because chances are I'll be shuffled off to some guy's blog who apparently knows someone on AOL to get the prominent front-page link-up...

...but, I was a bit intrigued as it spoke to me in a language I have recently begun to be far too affluent in: medical.

It seems some doctors are so miffed about all those "Rate Your Doctor" sites readily available to even the least adept Googler, that there is now a service (or probably a few by now) where, for a fee, your physician can pay some "company" to troll those sites and report all the "bad" findings back to them.

This apparently was enough for some doctors to get so bent out of shape over that they've added yet another form for you to sign when you fill out that ever-growing stack they hand you when you get there: Basically, a promise that you will not go to any of these sites and rate them in any negative or derogatory fashion. Oh, and it doesn't stop there. You also cannot mention anything against them on Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, or even on your personal blog. You are, in essence, being stripped of your First Amendment rights in order to receive medical care from these doctors. And, if the trolling service finds you have indeed breached this contract with your doctor, you are then - terminated. Plus they can also then bring legal action against you. Nice, huh?

So, we are now being told that not only "an apple a day keeps the doctor away" - but also public criticism. This is absolutely ludicrous - it is censorship at its most base level.

I am not aware how many of you have used these ratings sites...or even know of their existence - but I have done so, for obvious reasons. (I have some medical issues for those of you who don't know.) Not that I would use them for any "make or break" decision device as I'd wait to "rate" my doctor after a face-to-face visit. But, I do like having at my disposal, the opportunity to peruse the credentials of a doctor whose name is the only thing known to me. You see...he had MY whole history splayed out in front of him to pre-judge me...way before he opens the door after that obligatory "two-knock" custom they must have learned somewhere between Pre-Med and Residency...and he has it still.

Certainly you've seen it, haven't you? Oh, surely I can't be the only one to sneak a peek at what's inside that mysterious manilla folder they gaze at, and up from, whilst talking to you. You know the one I'm talking about...that one they leave open...enticingly within arm's reach of you - when they are called out of the room for a moment.

Haven't you ever been curious about what's inside that thing? For sure it has lab reports and a little synopsis of your current and past ailments - but aren't you at all just a little interested or even a bit more than nosy to know what else they keep in there? It is, after all, YOUR folder - I've read and signed those disclaimer sheets I spoke of earlier...we are entitled to view it. So, recently, I've taken it upon myself to investigate just what my doctors say about me - you see...this is the stuff they never share - other than between themselves.

At the risk of implicating myself even further than I already have, let me toss out a few things I've surreptitiously gathered about myself during my "I spy with my little eye - super quick-like before the doctor comes back in" waiting game. (Thank goodness for that "two-knock" warning.) I have mastered the art of stealth equivalent to a James Bond Ninja - I can leaf through it - photograph it with my "super memory", return it to the original page and pop back on that papered "couch" with the agile ability even "Grasshopper" from that "Kung Fu" show of the '70s would have envied. Then to complete the whole effect - I don my "mesmerized by the circa 1980s 'worn at the edges from the cheap thumbtacks' human anatomy posters" facial expression. Trust me - I've got that whole dance down to a science - I AM poetry in motion - bad poetry...a Haiku perhaps - but nonetheless, I've yet to be caught.

But in a way I feel like I have been caught - I am that unruly child whose school folder is stamped "TROUBLEMAKER" and passed from one grade's teacher to the next - labeling me before I ever sat in that classroom chair. I have been classified, in the medical community, as "neurotic". I've seen my "medical report cards" - words like "worries unnecessarily", "convinced she has..." and the dreaded "reads WebMD" crop up here and there in my introductory referral letters.

So, while I am allowed to be "rated" and passed from one doctor to the other, I'd like to be afforded the same opportunity as these physicians who are demanding their patients NOT rate them. I DON'T want to be rated either - other than my condition, thank you. Keep your opinions of me to yourselves - you are already swaying the opinion of my next doctor before he ever sits down and talks to me himself. I don't need him coming in with some attitude that I'm going to be a neurotic head-case or troublemaker - calling him for everything I have, might have, or have "convinced" myself through WebMD that I must have. Trust me, like little Johnny in Kindergarten who might have pulled Amy's hair - don't label me because someone "tells" on me - give me the benefit of the doubt...perhaps I'm really not that bad.

And to all you doctors out there thinking of subscribing to (or who have) this "service" which really is a disservice...stop pre-judging your patients - you certainly don't like it when it happens to you. Remember, you took an oath to help people...and it wasn't "The Hypocritical Oath".

Earth Hour '09

Well, I was going to do a blogumn about all my ills and my doctor visits and whatnot and bore you all to tears...and then a friend of mine wrote me suggesting I write something totally "off the wall" and unexpected. Keep in mind, I have this handy-dandy notebook (geez - I miss that Steve guy from "Blue's Clues") which I drag along to place with me to look remotely like Johnny Depp did in that "Finding Neverland" movie where he played Peter Pan's creator, James Barrie. But, I will never look that good no matter how hard I try...but yet again...here I go digressing.

So, while I mulled over which "doctor piece" I should ram down your throats...I could nearly hear the collective sighs of "Poor, poor Mariann...just shut up and get a life already..." - but hey, at least I didn't blame Obama for my health...and I decided I would write something else. Now, this decision of mine was a few days ago...and here I still sat debating if I really should write up what I wrote or write about my new cat toy. My new cat toy IS phenomenal - by the way. And while I sat, with the distant sound of thunder off in the distance and thirty minutes to kill before "The Grapes of Wrath" comes on at 5:00 a.m., I made a switch to "The Weather Channel" to take up that interim space.

And what inspired me to get my little fingers in gear? What could possibly be so interesting (besides looking at Jim Cantore) on "The Weather Channel" to get me to toss all my other ideas off on the sofa next to me? Well, to paraphrase Alfred Doolittle (of Shaw's "Pygmalion" and "My Fair Lady" fame)..."I'm willing to tell you. I'm wanting to tell you. I'm waiting to tell you."

A little public service announcement of sorts - of theirs...came on - all about "Earth Hour '09". I vaguely remember seeing some online headlines about this and a couple emails which I failed to open, so when I heard this, I stopped perusing things on the computer and looked up.

Now I don't have a fancy degree in television broadcasting, no formal journalism training other than two years in high school and ghost writing for the Times Advertiser and The Burlington County Times a couple times when my Journalism teacher, Mr. Bauer...who also worked at the local paper, tossed a few stories my way to do up for them. Unfortunately, come to think of it, I don't have any degrees...but apparently I DO have something THEY, over at their fancy schmancy Atlanta headquarters, don't: The ability to spot stupidity when I see it. Oh...not to demean your intelligence...but let's see if you can figure this out, too. It pretty much went like this (TiVo is great for purposes such as these)...

The spot starts out by featuring a few places which have turned off their power in the past with a voiceover stating X amount of people participated during Australia's outage in 2007 and so forth...which then segues into their talking about turning off our power for one hour, between 8:30 and 9:30 p.m. on Saturday, the 28th of March...to help fight global warming. Okay, nice thoughts and isn't that lovely and all, right?

Then they add "Tune in to 'The Weather Channel' for 'Earth Hour '09'"...and at the bottom of the screen, the words: "Join us. Turn out. Take action".

Now, again, I reiterate, I am no great genius, I don't even purport to be that darned astute - heck, I can only do two sides of a Rubik's Cube...but I CAN tell you that if you have no power on between the hours of 8:30 and 9:30 p.m. - you certainly aren't going to be able to WATCH "The Weather Channel's" broadcast regarding it. And to take it one step further, isn't it a bit of a hypocritical stance to BE broadcasting about NOT having your power on...when you are telling everyone to turn it off??

So...I did what anyone in my predicament would do. I wrote an email to them. Oh, I've written to "The Weather Channel" before once - long time ago. They had a link to a dating site on their home page - they wrote me back saying "Oops...I guess a disgruntled web monkey put that there as we sure didn't approve it...thank you so much for bringing it to our attention and NO, you can't have an autographed photo of Jim Cantore...stop asking already!" Well, okay...they didn't add that last bit...but to be fair, I didn't ask for one.

The only problem I had was that I was restricted to using only 500 characters/spaces...and, if you know me...brevity isn't my strong point. And yep, you guessed it...I used them ALL. This is what I sent:

I am watching your broadcast and an announcement comes on regarding "Earth Hour '09", relaying information about when it is and what it is and how I can be part of the "one billion people who will switch off their power for one hour".

Then it goes on to add "Tune in to 'The Weather Channel' for 'Earth Hour '09'". Then at the bottom of the screen: "Join us. Turn out. Take action."

Please tell me how I am to turn off MY power and still watch YOUR broadcast of the event if WE are all off?

I'll keep you informed of what they write back...if they write back. Hey, it's either that or a long-winded blog about some doctor's office visit. You decide. :)

The Heart of the Matter

Well, it seems I haven't written in an eon.

Oh, I was going to - but each night around 10ish I just got sleepy and toddled off to bed without even the aid of my trusty friend, Ambien. This, of course, if you know anything about me, was not my "normal" routine. My normal routine was anything but normal: I would stay up until my daughter went off to school, I would then proceed to take my Ambien and sack out until it was time to pick her up. Oh...yes, sometimes...most times...I would take half my Ambien in the hope of getting tired, but I would just binge eat - and that, in turn, would make me stay awake even longer (the more food you have in your body - the slower the Ambien takes to kick in) - and then I would take more Ambien after she went off to school and then I'd semi-pass out until around 2:00 p.m., wake up and feel like something the cat drug in (yes, "drug" is the word I'm emphasizing here...so keep your proper grammar knit-picking to yourselves - it was intentional).

Anyway...far be it from me to complain (insert "massive whole-hearted belly laugh" sound effect here) - but I didn't have the energy to stay awake to write a blog...much less anything really for that matter...and things I've promised myself I'd do - fell by the proverbial wayside. But...I'm back...and with a vengeance! "Grrrrr!" Okay...that was silly...but I'm almost famous for being silly...so I ran with it.

I have this whole concept of "all things medical" to do up in a two...or three-parter blogumn. Unfortunately, for you, the readers, I will also, undoubtedly, tend to dwell on my own mortality for some of it. Perhaps not as much as I originally intended, so I will indeed spare you my latest [past] current whine-fest. But, there's a method to my madness...and if you stick around, you just might see what it is. :)

But...I am back - just wanted everyone who took the time to ask about me...I am indeed still alive - and I will be writing again very, very soon...perhaps even tonite...if I can muster up the fortitude to stay awake past 10:00, that is.

Rooms For Improvement

I have no real problem admitting to anyone that it took me...oh...probably a good ten years to find a living room table that 1) I liked, and; 2) I liked that wasn't over $1,000. I ran across the one I will keep for life while shopping at the now defunct Henredon Clearance Outlet in North Carolina. Oh, sure - they have another and another one as well...but not like the previous one. You could walk into the previous one and see rows and rows of extremely expensive furniture marked down to...well, something nearly everyone could afford. Save for a $10,000 sofa marked down to $2,000 that, IF I woulda had $2,000 it would be sitting here right now - directly across from me, never sat in, so I could just stare at it in wondrous awe. It was one of THE prettiest things I've ever seen. You can have your Renoirs and Picassos - I'll take that Henredon sofa I saw in North Carolina.

But, again I digress once more.

Not that the average person spends ten years looking for that one special piece of furniture - most of my things were bought at antique stores or by my mother (at antique stores) which I then commandeered from her (she would always say "I KNEW you were going to want that - that's why I bought it) on my visits home to New Jersey. The fun part of decorating your home is to shop...to seek out and mix and match furniture, artwork, and trinkets. The "'oohs' and 'ahhs', wishing and walking away, or happily walking away clutching that "buy of a lifetime" with a smirk on your face to rival the Mona Lisa's...making everyone who passes by you stop in their tracks and wonder what you just found that they just missed" experience. The whole enchilada: The coming home and placing that vase or bowl on your cabinet you bought three months before and going "SEE! It does look great...didn't I tell ya??" Plus, it's the satisfaction that YOU did it...face it, no one hangs your "masterpieces" on their fridge anymore...but that shouldn't stop you from getting that warm, fuzzy feeling that you did something that pleased someone - ever again.

But someone wants to yank our warm fuzzies right from under us.

I first noticed this gigantic omni-structure in Atlanta...and thought to myself "What is this gigantic omni-structure?? It can't possibly be what I think it is...that would be really stupid."

Well, now one cropped up in my very own town..."Rooms To Go". "Just what IS this thing?" I asked myself and set about finding out. Well, from what I've gathered, it's geared toward people who are just too lazy or unimaginative, or too much in a hurry, to throw together a room themselves. Now, don't get yourself all in a twitter...some people undoubtedly enjoy going into this store, as they have 110 stores scattered in the Southeast and Puerto Rico.

I don't know - I just don't subscribe to this "Garaminals" approach to furniture shopping. I think I would have a hard time if I were uber-rich and some decorator wanted to tell me what I liked...and what belonged with what...and why I shouldn't get what I like and to only get what they liked - because they know me better than I know myself...but I just don't know it.

I just made a quick "turn-my-head" around surveillance of my surroundings, and other than the fact I could use a maid, I really like what I threw together...with no help from anyone but myself. I like my cabinets, I like my mirrors, I like my antique throws, I like the pillows on my sofas which took at least four trips to that Henredon Outlet Store in North Carolina over the course of many years, I like the hodge-podge, "thrown together like I meant it all along" feel that my house conveys...and I REALLY like the fact I have a little memory...a story, if you will, which goes along with each and every piece of "stuff" I have crammed into my house.

And you can't get that from an "All-At-Once" type of store...but don't take it from me...take it from someone some store hired who probably just got fired from "Sonic"...after all, what do I know? I did spend ten years looking for a table, for Pete's sake. ;)

Dirty Writing

I'm still in wondrous amazement how our little human brain managed to evolve the way it has.

We have tools that can make things to take us to the furthest reaches of our galaxy, yet people can't shake the internal desire to inscribe "WASH ME" on the back of a dirty automobile.

As I sat and watched the man now beside me, who was only a few moments ago behind me in line as I dropped my daughter off at school; my thoughts, like a long ago geared mechanism (I'd like to think of this internal process as my own personal Antikythera mechanism) took hold of my otherwise unthinking brain and catapulted it into warp speed. All occurring because the man who waited behind me was now next to me making a right turn in his much nicer, albeit much dirtier vehicle than mine - had that very same (pardon the pun) 'older than dirt' decry hastily smeared on his back windshield.

Now, granted, most people wouldn't have given this "event" a second glance...perhaps it's not even really worthy of a first - but me, being the self-proclaimed "writer" that I fancy myself - (and have even taken it upon myself to pen in "writer" each time the "occupation" blank in the countless forms I fill out...presents itself) saw this and a chain reaction of sorts...ensued.

It kinda went like this:

Who first scrawled "WASH ME" on a vehicle? How did it manage to catch on - I mean, really - had it been on a car in Slapout, Alabama, chances are it would never have attained the domino effect it once grew to become. So, with that deduced, it must have been somewhere countless people could see it. How about LA? Sorry - unless you count smog as dirt -- plus the people there are way too obsessed with cars. Nope...no car there, unless it was on a movie set, has ever gone long enough without a wash and wax.

Chances are it was someone driving cross-country who ended up in a place with attitude, done by a person who didn't mind getting their finger dirty after doing it. This leaves New York. Chances are also good once they did it, they shouted out "Yo, Vinnie, getta loada dis!" And then proudly flipped him the bird with the very same finger...and proceeded to do the same thing with everyone he knew the rest of the day. So, what originally started off as something silly some guy named Sal did on East 34th Street - caught on.

"But", I thought as waited to negotiated the left out of her school, "Do naughty Amish kids, in their best penmanship, carefully write "WASH THEE" on buggies, snicker and run off behind Brother Jebediah's barn to watch the hilarity ensue?

Maybe this has been part of our culture much, much longer than anyone could ever imagine. Did ancient Mesopotamian children, after that first piece of glass dusted over, take their finger and gleefully, unknowingly, leave their mark in history?

Or did any one [of any] of the Pharoah's dozens of children draw three wavy water lines and a Cartouche on their father's sandy chariot upon his return from an outing in the desert - and then point that same dirty finger at their "lesser" sibling to take the rap?

And then the light changed...

Double Clicks/Double Cringes

So I'm sitting here watching "Ninotchka" on TCM just now - and I decide to peruse the bottom of the "news bar" on AOL. They have a few miscellaneous attention grabber clickables with a caption and photo...all designed to whet your appetite enough for you to bite. So I decided to bite - I clicked on one from WalletPop.com entitled "2009 Comebacks" - which tout 25 trends destined to make a comeback in 2009.

Now I don't know about you - but I sometimes get suckered into double clicking links that take me to these pseudo-web gurus which claim to...or at least purport to know certain things. Who the heck dubbed these people the authoritative oracles of whatever knowledge they perceive themselves to possess?

For example, in this "article" and I say "article" whilst I cringe and roll my eyes at the same time...they randomly (because there's no way it isn't) toss out 25 things which they see as reclaiming their heyday gloryness of days gone by. From Spam to the Camaro to Amway and camping...these people must have been leafing through a magazine or channel surfing at 3:00 in the morning and decided to add anything that struck their fancy to this list. The potato??? Sorry...but I never did get the "don't eat potatoes" memo that these guys undoubtedly did. (Yes, I am indeed cringing and rolling my eyes yet again.) Why a list like this was compiled is beyond me...but what was sticking in my craw even more so than why a list like this existed was the fact that I was duped into clicking it to start with.

Shame...shame on me. I know better than to do this. Whenever I click on anything AOL - I always get segued over to some inane site or blog from someone with about as much genius as my cat...only my cat is usually more entertaining.

Anyway...I shall now counter with a list of 13 of my own things (I'll spare you reading a full 25) that will be making a comeback in the near future...and all garnered from a quick walk around my house. Think of it as an "I Spy With My Third Little Eye" game. I'm about as enlightened as they were when I came up with it, after all.

1. Perfume with those little atomizer doohickeys: Yes, due to the retro-resurgence and a perfumed air of all things scentimental...plus a bunch of Jean Harlow films that have hit the airwaves lately on TCM...these things will find their way back into boudoirs all over the country. It will be marketed as a "green product" as the bottle can be refilled. The only catch is that you have to buy their bottle first to pour it INTO your bottle that you bought from them initially - but clever marketing ploys will conveniently leave out that detail.

2. Schoolhouse Rock: It's about time they bring it back - for no other reason than for a whole other generation to witness what trippy LSD-induced animation and catchy tunes can do to boost kids' IQ and memorization skills.

3. Bakeries that actually make bread that tastes like bread should: Okay...maybe this is wishful thinking...but Montgomery especially, needs one of these.

4. Dialogue in film instead of CGI effects and explosions: Again...wishful thinking on my part. Sorry.

5. People using the phrase "good morrow": It's ridiculous I know...but less ridiculous than the resurgence of the potato in the aforementioned "article" I read.

6. Mimeograph machines: Something has to inspire those trippy LSD-inspired cartoonists to draw those new Schoolhouse Rock animations...sniffing the mimeograph paper's ink ought to do it.

7. People actually telling jokes to one another: People used to do this - now they have the Internet to do it...jokes need to be told again. People once upon a time actually told jokes and talked to each other. I know it seems silly now, but they actually did and it was fun.

8. Unscented candles: Just regular candles - no bayberry, no cinnamon spice, no sea breeze, no cotton (like cotton really smells like anything anyway...trust me, this scent actually exists)...just plain candles...used for ambiance and lighting purposes only.

9. Telephone Exchange Names: Like in those old films you used to watch...when people would ask someone for their phone number they would say "MUrray 5-9180". This will at least catch people off guard - but they will think you are swanky and cosmopolitan...they will then go home and promptly Google "swanky" and "cosmopolitan".

10. Knickers: Not the British underwear version - the baggy pants that gather right below the knee. Sure, they are ugly as anything...but it's about time they come back into fashion to remind us just how ugly they truly are.

11. Shampoo that, once again, doesn't tell you to "rinse, lather and repeat": Some company will make the command decision that we aren't really as stupid as all that...and also by leaving off 21 letters they would help save the environment by releasing less production fumes into the atmosphere by using less ink on their packaging. Also, they end up saving their company $4.7 million per year in ink cost alone. Just think how much they could save if they didn't add methoxydibenzoylmethan to it.

12. Chest hair: Men will realize that women used to like hairy chests and that we really aren't that attracted to men who look eerily similar to a Ken doll.

13. Absinthe: Only because I want to taste it...and...it will probably help me forget what I just double clicked on.

And please don't remind me that by adding their link, above, I ended up promoting them in a roundabout way. I know. Sigh...I know...

The Time Is NYE

Well, my "New Year" has come and gone. And it has with about as much fanfare as all my previous ones. Oh, I know I've said it before (I've been doing these blogs for ages here now - so I have a backlog of archives and a backlog of laments, joyousness, and just plain "the way I see it" insights of the 'common man' who just happens to be a woman) but I wish one day to actually GO OUT to celebrate the new year being rung in.

I don't have to go to Times Square - I prefer a place with a bathroom anyway. I don't have to be wined and dined on some ocean cruise or being flown to Australia to herald in the first new year. I would just like, once, to be able to go to a place where they hand you chintzy hats and noisemakers which make kazoos seem wondrous in comparison. I just want to celebrate.

I was online "celebrating" this time around. I had friends call me - I called friends - I liked the fact that people actually took time out of their lives to talk to me at (and around) the stroke of midnite. I had my champagne in my oh-so-special Riedel champagne flute - with its steady stream of bubbles percolating from the bottom because that's what the Riedel people get the big bucks for...for convincing me that bubbles coming up from an etched "X" at the bottom of my glass is more special than "the others" - which don't sport this X-factor bubble phenomenon. Heh...they were free at a Riedel wine-tasting and most people left without claiming their champagne glasses...and me, due to my having absolutely no problem swiping glasses off tables which people left behind...got quite a nice set of these.

But I digress yet again - no - no resolutions to stop digressing. I like to digress.

Did anyone else notice how incredibly banal the NYE television shows are now? I have no idea who half these people are who host them - but I know I can do at least twice as good as they do - and at one-third the pay. There's some mathematical formula in there I'm sure - but, regardless - you don't need to know what X is - to know the shows were worse than ever. And there were more product placements in the Times Square celebration than lights in that NYE ball which I totally missed. My cable decided to give me the multi-coloured test pattern stripes a couple minutes before the Waterford crystal ball, which still reminds me of my sagging bustline, dropped. I have no idea why it did that...but it did - that's right up there with that "Emergency Broadcasting Test Signal Interruption" bit which always seems to occur around 2:00 a.m. when I'm watching some classic film on TCM. I seriously doubt it ever happens during product placement spots when "General Hospital" or "The Price Is Right" is on...but at 2:00 a.m. (somewhere between the advent of the Hays Act and those product placement paydays) it never fails to rear its ugly head. I just wish it would have shown up earlier during that New Year's Eve show with Carson Daly and the brain-dead chick whose name escapes me for just that reason.

Anyway, at least the Sci-Fi channel had the good sense to show a Twilight Zone marathon which is still going on as I write this. Show after show of imaginative creativity with absolutely no product placement whatsoever (yeah, one more reference to it won't hurt)...how did they ever manage to churn this stuff out episode after episode, year after year...while in the here and now, ringing in 2009, NBC felt compelled to air a plethora of less than mediocre fare - attempting to pawn it off as entertainment. Yes, indeedy...someone sure dropped a whole other ball on that one.

Perhaps next year I'll actually be OFF this sofa celebrating and being able to write a whole blog devoted entirely to the ridiculousness of spending X amount of dollars only to get a plastic glass of cheap champagne, a lopsided hat and some slowly deflating balloons to take home to the kids.

So I'll raise my glass and tip my imaginary lopsided hat to 2009...here's hoping we all have a little less to complain about and a little more to celebrate in the coming year. Or, at the very least - more trivial things to complain about and more momentous things to celebrate.

Fig Theory

300ml (½ pint) Milk

225g (8oz) Flour

175g (6oz) Dried Figs

150ml (¼ pint) Brandy

110g (4oz) Suet

110g (4oz) Prunes

85g (3oz) Raisins or Sultanas

50g (2oz) Dried Apricots

50g (2oz) Dates

25g (1oz) Dried Apples

1 tbsp Honey

¼ tsp Ginger

¼ tsp Cinnamon

Those are the ingredients for Figgy Pudding - as written by "The Foody" - a website from the UK and Ireland (the rest of the recipe can be found here: http://thefoody.com/pudding/figgypudding.html . I figured if anyone knew how to make Figgy Pudding, they should know. I discounted all those Americanized versions of it and settled on a "traditional" one from across the pond.

But why am I even bothering listing a recipe for Figgy Pudding you might be asking yourself about now. I have to admit the song, "We Wish You A Merry Christmas" got me to thinking that something MUST be in it for the people to be demanding it so.

According to what is out there in Internet-land, the song was written by an unknown person back in England in the 16th century. That is quite a while ago...and throws a slight curve into my theory as to why these people weren't going to leave until they had some Figgy Pudding.

You'd figure people back then would have been more polite than to demand someone dole out some dessert or they were going to basically hang around like the in-laws who came to stay. I mean, these were the same people who produced the likes of "Please, sir, can I have some more?" That's a far cry from "...and bring it right now!"

Something keeps making me think these people had a pretty bad case of the munchies...but what drug could have induced them? My first thought was perhaps there was a little bit more than figs fermenting in that pudding...perhaps they were drinking something to wash it down their throats. They did do a whole lot of "wassailing" back then. But would throwing back a cup of spiced hard cider be enough to get that demanding?

Nay...I think they needed something with a little more oomph. Perhaps they were all doped up on Laudanum? Sure, it didn't come into big fashion until the 1800s - but, I did a bit of research and it was indeed around in England in the 16th century.

Therefore my theory is that a bunch of hopped up on opium dopeheads were inciting all too much frivolity and being a tad demanding when it came to the sweetmeats.

So, the next time you are happily and blindly singing along lyrics to songs which have been around forever, most of which give credit to "Traditional" as their author, delve a little deeper into the lyrics and see if you can't develop a few theories of your own regarding their origin. You could even consider my newest Christmas song theory: "The Twelve Days of Christmas" aka One Person's Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. See, isn't it fun? And we all know Christmas and family get-togethers bring out the best neuroses in everyone...and there certainly are lots of songs to go around.

And, lastly, chances are, if you want those pesky guests out of your house nowadays...serve them some Figgy Pudding. They'll probably opt to leave before they get some.

Merry Christmas to everyone! I wish only the best to each of you and your families...and may the joy the holidays bring remain with you throughout 2009.

A Room (I don't want to be in) With A View

"Get busy living...or get busy dying." I've said it before I know - but it's one of my favourite quotes from one of my favourite movies, "The Shawshank Redemption". It seems that I haven't been taking it to heart, often quoted - but never devoted - any real time to realize the importance of those seven little words.

I have resigned myself, as I stand here like Jimmy Stewart in "Rear Window" (altho he was sitting), gazing out my 4th floor hospital window from Baptist South...my life's entertainment now reduced to seeing how many of the three enormous lighted angels at the Alfa Building directly across from me will be working tonite, walking the H-shaped corridors outside my room, and the high point of my day: anxiously awaiting the reaction of the guy who parked his silver out-of-state car in the blue-lined non-space designated to be used as access points for the two adjacent handicapped spaces which were already taken. Two policemen moved an orange and white barrel directly behind the car...but didn't ticket it. But, he hasn't emerged yet. And here I stand...waiting...waiting.

Yes, one can get a little stir crazy in here, luckily there is "naked man" who "resides" in the room next to mine to keep my spirits up. No, don't even go there...but he IS an amusing topic of conversation here. He certainly isn't here to break up the tension...but moments such as those do break up the tension I'm sure.

You see, I've been here since Sunday, when I awoke with the apparent symptoms of a stroke and the trappings thereof: unsteady gait, difficulty swallowing, uncoordinated arm movement, and scariest of all - not being able to speak and reason properly.

So, I am here. The barrage of tests so far have pointed to a Transient Ischemic Attack (TIA) as the culprit. I am, essentially, "back to normal" - or should I say, "my normal".

But as I walk my IV pole, with the obligatory wonky grocery cart-type wheel, down the halls, I am reminded of how precious...and fleeting human life is...and no matter how impervious we think we are - we are very frail creatures...us humans.

Oh, that's probably not saying much - or maybe it's speaking volumes, depending on your interpretation of it. Personally, I am not usually places where I see trauma every day - I don't usually talk to the grandparent of a child who just lost his ability to walk by a totally unforeseeable accident. I don't usually see people strapped to neck and back braces trying desperately to negotiate the slightest of steps...I don't usually walk past doors with signs which state things like "turn patient every two hours".

I know these things happen and I know people deal with these things every day...but I am usually far removed from these situations. Today I was moved by them.

And today...I really want to start "get busy living" more than anything.

The Food Oracle Blogger

No novel idea here...but I thought it would be fun and informative - and perhaps "dialogue inspiring" if I picked one day a week as my "taster's choice"...or "munchie review"...an outta the box or bag and into my mouth and back down my arms to my fingers out to you - in the guise of a food review...a portent of lesser importance. I shall be, for one day only, and only one day per week: "The Food Oracle Blogger". It sounded impressive to me...well, at least more impressive than "Dishing With the *cough* Semi-Hot Old Chick"...but, I'm willing to take suggestions.

Sadly, no companies or stores will probably ever give me anything to review...but if they want to - well, they can reach me at the contact info via my Profile. But I DO tend to eat...might as well pretend to make a living from it.

My tastes range from organic, ethnic, fancy, downright plain, to "can you believe she actually ATE that??" - and I plan to make it a habit detailing to you, bite by bite, my likes and dislikes of various gastronomical goodies...or "baddies"...as the case may be. It's not going to be "here's a recipe for a meatloaf dinner" or anything - just things you buy pretty much "ready-made". Oh, you might have to nuke them in the microwave or add hamburger, some milk, or an egg...and stir. There might even be ovens or cooktops involved...I can't promise you exactly what it will entail; but a wide array of products will be put to the test and unselfishly sacrificed to our stomachs just to please you, our "viewing audience". I promise to pull no punches or sugar coat anything (unless the instructions say to do so)...what I think is what you are going to read. Hopefully I can save a few of you some bad choices and $$$ and introduce you to things you might not have wanted to try.

I am planning to do one per week...but, you never know...I might sneak another one in on you in the process...I do tend to eat more than once a day...AND I also drink. So all things "imbibable" will fall into this category as well.

If you have a suggestion (within reason) feel free to pass it along. I love food - and basically have tried nearly everything out there. I am not squeamish in the least...but I won't eat raw oysters and such. Luckily, most raw oyster dishes don't call for the use of microwaves, ovens or stovetops.

All of these food choices will be made by me (or my children) alone, and as such, major entities like CBS and NBC will have nothing to do with it...no one's seen ABC in so long I don't think we have to worry about them...I think they're in the witness-protection-program or something. I don't watch FOX...so that's a moot point. There is, however, a standing invitation for "Food TV's" Alton Brown to come over and taste test food with me...but I won't hold my breath until then; he can, however, feel free to send me pointers and thoughts galore...or, more specifically, hire me.

Lastly, all product placements will end up in the trash...that's just the type of people we are.

Halloween (Part II)

Well, I never did get around to writing part two of my Halloween blog, so I'm going to tack "Part II" on this one and give a much abbreviated version of it here.

In all honesty I was waiting until the election was over so the political blogs would die the death they should have had before they started...but apparently they haven't. Oh, don't get me wrong - it's not that I don't like to spend time reading interesting blogs...it's just that I find politics very uninteresting...especially when it comes to peoples' viewpoints trying to convince other people that they are complete idiots for thinking what they do because they are more right because they are voting for the "right" candidate...because all other candidates will be the downfall of America as we know it.

If the election wasn't so much like watching "Entertainment Tonight" - it might have captured my interest more...but when I start finding out "integral" information like how much Sarah Palin did or did not pay for her wardrobe, what consignment shop she claims to frequent, how much John McCain pays for his shoes, and what kind of dog Obama may or may not get due to his wife's allergies and which pound he plans to rescue it from...or not...well, ya know what? I don't care. Get a damn goldfish and let's move on to some REAL issues...but the dumbing down of America has definitely kicked up a notch and Mike Judge's film, "Idiocracy", is starting to look more and more like a quatrain from Nostradamus with each passing day. I'm now anxiously awaiting whether Paris Hilton is going to accept her invitation to the Presidential Inauguration...and where she and Michelle Obama plan to go shopping together, like the "BFF" they are...to pick out their gowns. Ummmm...NOT.

I do hope I'm wrong on all counts...so... ...back to Halloween. I dressed as Medusa, my daughter was a witch and my son, Alex, reluctantly wore the giant skull head I just had to buy him several weeks before because I thought it would be THE best costume ever...even if it was a lawn ornament. When I donned it on my head in the store - there wasn't anything that was going to stop me from getting it. He, of course, thought it was downright stupid...but at the last minute he popped it on and appropriately coordinated his wardrobe (even the Republican party would have been pleased) and we left for greener pastures and lighter lit areas to get our Halloween fix. He was complaining all the way there about how idiotic he looked.

But...while I still hope I'm wrong on some issues...I also love to be right. Oh, I do. And I don't think one person passing by didn't comment on how great his costume was or where he bought it. The SUV-pulled "hay ride" turned out to be more like a "hey ride" as countless Trick or Treaters shouted "Hey...big head!" each time they passed, cars pulled up next to him and the insiders gawked, a man who came to the door of his house quipped "Your costume is definitely a keeper" and, if those didn't clinch the deal; a gorgeous babe had her friend take her photo with him and it's probably up on her MySpace or Facebook account as I type this. In fact, I'm betting his image is on more than one (quite a few people took his photo). I have to say, hands down, this was THE best Halloween I've ever been treated to.

That's "two for two" Halloweens - and I am once again vindicated.

It's nice to be the "prophetic" Mom. :)

Halloween (Part I)

Yes, I know I said I'd repost a few "old" blogs...but I was inspired to write this just now.


Is it my imagination or are the 'Trick or Treaters' becoming increasingly older and few and far between as each year goes by? Now, I know there are a lot of churches and other places around the area which hold their own events - but, in my opinion, nothing can beat going around, door-to-door, to elicit free candy from people you don't know. And while that's a big part of the fun, it's not THE part I like the most. Wasn't what I liked best back when I was a kid...isn't what I like best now. And with less and less little kids partaking in it...well, Halloween, in general, is kinda losing its original appeal.

What I always liked best was being able to dress up and go off to school wearing my costume. I lived for that. All year long. Second only...maybe...to Christmas. In fact, when I really think about it...I think I liked it more.

My parents never actually BOUGHT me a Halloween costume - we invented things from stuff lying around the house...plus my mother could sew. I remember (in vain) that I "oh so wanted" to be a princess...with all the trappings of a "bona fide" fairy-tale princess: the poofy, scratchy-itchy skirt netting, the sparkly cardboard star on a stick that you'd wave in desperation of something magic-like actually happening...as if magic "magically occurred" once you glued two otherwise innocuous and cheap glittered components together - and...to complete my fantasy ensemble: that hideous 1960s hard plastic princess face mask. You know the one, don't you? The one you can't keep on your face if you tried even tho you knotted off that ridiculously long semi-elastic string in the back with the two metal clasps that would always pop out of their respective hole-holders. The one with the enormous "Little Orphan Annie" eyeholes that, no matter how hard you tried, still ended up lower than your own personal eyes - so the only thing you could do was to look down and hope your parent paid attention to the terrain when they dragged you by the hand down the sidewalk that always seemed to love skinning my knees for some reason (personally I don't think my knees "unscabbed" until I hit my teen years). The one that always had that pasty white complexion with the "yellow" hair...because we all know that only true princesses have alabaster skin and hair the colour of the "fairest" Crayola crayon in the 8-pack...because Disney told us so. And the one your friend let you try on...for a brief shining moment...before she snatched it off your face with a stinging rubber band "thwak" and obligatory "hair pull" to the back of the head.

And "joy of joys", I remember one year winning for "best costume". I went as a Hindu...complete with my makeshift "lipstick-anointed" red bindi - not sure if that is "allowed" or "politically correct" to do nowadays...but it's a moot point anyway as you can't dress up at most schools. Regardless, as a child, I certainly didn't do it with any form of disrespect...I just loved the whole "sari" thing and, so, that is who I went as...as that's the fabric my mother had - and the costume was indeed gorgeous...and worthy of the accolades that only a third-grade teacher can bestow upon a student.

But it seems Halloween gets such a bad rap from the same people who, as kids, loved dressing up...only now they don't allow their kids to dress up and they certainly don't tolerate their schools allowing them to. When I was a child, the furthest thing from my - and my friends' minds - was "the devil worshipping practices and rituals surrounding a pagan holiday"...and don't even get me started on that one - you can just Google for yourselves.

So, it's a letdown to dress up (and yes, I did dress up - I dress up each time...this time I was Medusa as I love Greek myths) and see a handful of kids walking around delighting in being a little "different" than they are the other 364 days a year. Even if you don't trust the "candy givers"...toss out the candy, but let the little ones live a little...and by all means - bring back the costumes at school. Especially now with all the schools regimenting a set uniform...one day a year to buy a wig and let your hair down wouldn't be asking for too much, would it? At least for the elementary grades. Don't deprive them of the joy I once felt...because, for some kids, in the homes they grow up in and the stuff they are subjected to (and I know...I was beaten as a child, with a belt, by my father)...it's seriously the most fun they might have all year...and it's also the stuff good childhood memories are made of.

Sounding Off

I have a "white noise" machine. Well, actually, it's one of those "sound" machines the "Sharper Image" people make. It comes with such "soothing and calming" sounds as: White Noise, Heart Beat, North Woods, California Coast, Rain, Ocean, Brook, Summer Night, Rain Forest, and Tropical Cruise.

The theory behind these things is innocuous enough: mask noises so you can relax, fall asleep, not be able to eavesdrop on someone else's therapy session, etc. And, in this theory, it sounds like a great, applaudable and laudable idea...until you get the darned thing home, plug it in, and...

...listen.

The sounds are on a loop. A continuous "can actually pick it up - audibly" loop. You can tell where it ends and where the "seam" is. If you've ever watched a looped video - there's that "jump" you can see when it starts from square one again. I swear I can "hear" the jump on these.

And they are far from "natural" representations of nature - in fact, some are downright frightening. Instead of that nice peaceful sit by the lake in the "woods" as you originally "bargained for" -- you know, sitting by the campfire, roasting marshmallows and getting all "kum-bah-ya" and then...unbeknownst to you, you suddenly get "worst nightmare in the Serengeti". I swear it sounds as if something or someONE is being gnawed on...off in the distance. If you've ever seen The Twilight Zone episode "The Jungle" where the couple brings some trinkets home from Africa...and he and his wife end up being stalked in their own Manhattan apartment only to be torn to shreds (sorry to spoil it for you - but it's only been out since 1961). Well, that said...hopefully you don't have a monkey paw back scratcher or elephant wastepaper basket from Pier 1 Imports or anything dessiccated once belonging to a living jungle animal. To be on the safe side, that "good luck" rabbit's foot Uncle Joe picked up for you when you were a kid - (you remember) you got a green one, your sister's was purple and she wouldn't let you trade -- you've long since forgotten but they've been lying about the house since circa 1969 - or that pig's ear "chewy" you just picked up for the family dog? Well, I'd change the dial...just in case.

Edgar Allan Poe's "Tell-Tale Heart" has nothing on this "Heart-Beat" one - if you'd like great ambient music to play while kids are "Trick or Treating" - crank this baby up...it's sure to scare them senseless.

The "Brook" - by their own admittance from several people - brings thoughts to the forefront of another kind flowing into their minds - constant flowing water...flowing...flowing. You got it - another constant: your trips to the bathroom. So, if you need a "natural" diuretic...skip the coffee and tea and literally - go - and get one of these.

But, what's even more disconcerting to me is - my steadfast belief that a subliminal message is embedded into one of the sounds. No, seriously - I've heard it. My kids have heard it. I can't make out what is says, but it creeps me out...much worse than anything old Edgar could conjure up - and he was pretty damned macabre.

Consequently, I don't listen to the "noise-masker" any more. I found not sleeping...or sleeping with the "help" of Ambien was preferable to my imagination getting the better of me...convincing myself that "take the ax from the tool shed...sharpen the ax...take the ax into the..." message set to the beat to "Stayin' Alive" from the Bee Gees...just weren't worth the blood-gurgling "Shaper Image"ry that water-gurgling brook sound emitted...regardless of how many lives it could possibly save...or not.

What I have to show for this experience is a very expensive piece of electronic equipment shoved somewhere in my house, undoubtedly next to the Sharper Image foot massager I just had to have...which is probably next to the one-way video monitor I also had to have...which is tacked on top of...


As a side note: I realized only today their brilliant strategy for playing the looped Sharper Image soundbyte at my therapist's office: What better way to drum up business than to submit unsuspecting would-be patients to the "take the ax from the tool shed"...brain drone? Sure...I know it's only in my own imagination...any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or eventually to be dead, is purely coincidental...

Biden My Time...or Palin Comparison?

Well, I am not politically-minded. I can't wait until this election is over so I can stop seeing all the political stuff...especially all the blogs just saying the same stuff over and over - or worse yet, just copying the same stuff over and over and popping it in a blog.

Yeah...thank goodness Joseph McCarthy isn't alive as I'd just have put my name in the top of that Communist witch-hunt list with that last comment.

But, I am a curious sort. I haven't watched any Saturday Night Live/Tina Fey impersonation of Sarah Palin. Not because I didn't want to get my opinion swayed...but because I haven't watched SNL in years...yes, can we please put THAT up to a vote? I know one person who watches SNL...and he does so only BECAUSE of Tina Fey. Everyone else says that it's well passed the time we just "stick a fork in it...it's done". But, that's neither here nor there. I'm not debating whether or not I think SNL should be cancelled...at this point the debate on that would be "when SHOULD it have been cancelled?"...but I digress once again...

...I DID watch the debate tonite because I wanted to see...as one reporter said, in essence, "the train wreck we were all waiting for" And what I'm debating is...after the fact, due to a 30 minute TiVo delay, is: sitting here watching the first of the press-scrutinies - on which one won. They haven't gotten this many women reporters out of the woodwork since...well...I don't know when. I'm watching the NBC coverage of it, by the way...so I can't speak for what the other networks are doing...but the only one I haven't seen yet is Cokie Roberts...and probably because she's on another network.

But it seems these women watched a whole other debate than I did. Oh, it's not that I don't like this woman...I don't really know her...so I have no real preconceived perception of her...but what I've seen OF her...well, let's just say it's "Bush-esque". To me, no pun intended, but she "skirted the issues"...and she kept saying the same thing over and over again...if nothing else, I do come away knowing that "John McCain IS a maverick". She must have said it 14 times. It got to be that the only thing that I remember her saying...was that John McCain IS a maverick...and maybe, just maybe, that WAS their point.

Just like that annoying television commercial on television that doesn't tell you anything - but you remember it only because of its repetitive catchphrase...well, she did a fine job advertising her candidate. But, in my opinion, not much else. Sure, she didn't give the "deer in the headlights" look I was anticipating...and I was really anticipating it...but, although she "held her own"...I think just because someone doesn't fall flat on their face isn't grounds to say "she's terrific!"

Biden, on the other hand...seemed to be genial and just was smiling a bit too much for my liking. I kept thinking "oh, don't hold back...I recognize that smile...it's the smile I do when I'm trying to be nice to anyone who 'just doesn't get it'...take off the kid gloves and hit back!" But, he really didn't. Maybe the whole "she's a girl...I can't come off like gangbusters and get into all kinds of stuff with half the voting public" mentality. I don't know.

Personally, I still like Biden better. He's much better on his feet - and it's not only because he didn't wear heels (even my daughter remarked she must have some stamina for standing there in those shoes that whole time)...but maybe Biden is more like me. More outspoken and not a "mouthpiece puppet" for their Presidential counterpart.

I don't know if that's a good thing...but as Biden did mention (and again, I'm paraphrasing), "Obama picked me because I wouldn't be afraid to tell him I disagreed with him" - I really don't want a "Yes-Man" as a VP...even IF that "Yes-Man" so happens to be...a woman.

Now...on to the "REAL" debates...but in the meantime...who do YOU think won? And does it EVEN matter at this level?

Adamant about...Adam Ant...and Other Such Fond 1980s Memories

Have you ever misplaced something and then found it later in a place you least expected? It could be hours, days or even months later and you think..."Oh THERE you are...you silly thing, how'd you end up here?"

Well, I lost something less tangible years ago - and, in a way, I found it the other day.

Through a random act of Internet association, someone happened upon my interactive comedy website because someone mentioned it to them. I, in turn, noticed their screen name and avatar...one thing led to another and I am now an active participant on an Adam Ant forum. I also found a group of people who rekindled something in me I lost long ago: memories of my youth.

You see...way back when, I was also one of another group of people - those who witnessed the advent of MTV. I was there from the get-go - from the days they stayed on the air just a few hours...to the days they went 24-hour format...to the days they went global...to, sadly, the days everyone complained they stopped playing music.

But, back in their youth...and back in MY youth - wow! Those were some exciting times.

Sure, there are a lot of people you will find who will tell you how much 80's music sucked and how MTV played a monumental part in its doing so. But -- there are also a LOT of people who cruise YouTube extolling the virtues of 80s music...video after video, wishing they lived during that time. Multitudes of people love the music and the antics going on in the videos.

Truth be told...MTV and 80s singers had a symbiotic relationship...MTV gained viewership by playing beautiful videos sung by beautiful people. Beautiful people flourished -- it was like the "Golden Age" of Hollywood all over again - but on a much smaller screen.

One of those beautiful people gracing their airwaves was unknown to me at the time. I lived in New Jersey, and altho I would listen to Philadelphia radio stations, they still managed to play only what was selling advertising, which equated to Top 40 rock format...with a few local favourites thrown in. Princeton University would broadcast a much more eclectic sound and through them I found the likes of REM, The Police, U2, Depeche Mode and The Cure...all well before they were mainstreamed over to the "popular" stations.

But people like Duran Duran, Madonna and Adam Ant were bypassed altogether...and without MTV around to find their niche - these talented, albeit beautiful, people...would have probably fallen by the wayside.

But a little less about them and more about me...

Duran Duran burst on the MTV scene about the same time as my hormones started bursting out of me. And while they undoubtedly were the fantasy of schoolgirls everywhere...eh...they weren't my cup of tea.

Then I caught my first glimpse of Adam. I remember it distinctly - I was hanging out at my friend, Cecelia's house, watching MTV, talking about boys, and making life-long plans we'd always put down on paper. I guess it was more official when you had it in writing. And somehow, ultimately, living in Los Angeles or England was always involved - as was "marrying a rock star". And when Adam swaggered into her living room that day - well, our lists got updated.

We then ran out, for the first and only time in my life - and bought one of those Teen Beat-type magazines. I can't recall the exact name of it - but I do remember Adam was featured prominently inside.

Then out came the make-up kits - we now had in front of us our "Rembrandt" if you will - to copy. We spent many hours trying to replicate that "masterpiece"...but honestly, I really think we spent more time drooling over Adam than drawing on our faces. Could anyone in their right mind blame us?

It goes without saying that we also bought up all the albums of his we could find...then promptly taped it over to cassette. Keep in mind these were the days pre-recorded cassettes sorely lacked any real quality recording...so when you bought the album you'd also buy a Maxcell tape and do it yourself. Then you'd sit down in front of the stereo with the lyric sheet (another reason you'd buy the album...they rarely provided them then in cassettes) and play that record until you had it memorized. And then you'd pop that tape in the car and play it everywhere you went. Yeah...you might say this whole regimen bordered on obsession - but, boy...what an obsession!

And what obsession would be complete without the 'coup de grace' of them all? The ultimate paying of respect? Yes, when Halloween rolled around, Cecelia and I went as Adam.

I had all but forgotten these things - as childhood memories make way for adult ones; and friends, sadly, come and go and then eventually drop out of contact altogether. People move, get married and start new families and new memories - the years pass by all too quickly and you stop making wish lists and make grocery lists instead.

And the only ones dressing up for Halloween are your children. Sure, you can always dress up as well (I know I still do)...but it's never going to be with the same innocence, fervour, and wonderment as when you were young. And now there you are...gazing upon your kids; the reflection of the doorstep jack-o-lanterns twinkling in their eyes, their quickening gait as they try to outrace the other kids to the door, and the sheer, unbridled passion only a new Halloween costume and the prospect of copious free candy can give a kid...and you can't help but reflect back to those carefree days of your youth and wonder how they went past so quickly.

Twenty years seem like ages when you're a kid - but are, in reality, a blink of the eye when you, yourself...much later...look back. That thing my mother always told me WAS true: "Before you know it, Mariann...20 years will have gone by..." She would say it so many times and I always, always dreaded hearing it. Funny the things you remember - and the things you don't. I can remember her saying it, well...like it was just yesterday...

...but...one thing I'm not dreading - is turning into my Mother, like some people do theirs; you see, I always dragged my Mom around wherever I went - and she listened to Peter Gabriel, Genesis, U2, Yes...and yes, Adam Ant as well. And one thing's for certain, if she were alive today, I'd still be dragging her around town with me, laughing, shopping and driving all over the place while listening to what's on the radio. And...she'd probably want me to turn it off. But probably not for any reason you might think, but because, like Adam sings -- "That music's lost its taste - so try another flavour..." And, my mother would be the first to agree. It IS time to try something different from what they've been playing on the radio (at least in this town) lately.

So, c'mon everyone...play something new...even IF that "new" thing just so happens to have hit it big back in the 80s.

The Rift of Gab

I like to talk.

Everyone who knows me knows this.

This is how I start all practically all conversations when I meet someone: "Hi...blah blah (please insert actual words in place of the "blah blah"...as I don't actually SAY "blah blah") blah...by the way, I tend to NOT shut up. If you start talking to me...I can not and WILL not stop. And IF we ever talk on the phone...well, I had one call I made to a new friend in Hawaii from 12:30 - 7:00 a.m. the other nite. Yes, she is now my new "official record holder".

Poor thing.

So I think you get the picture.

Well, another friend I have (all my friends are not in any reasonable driving distance, by the way...possibly for a reason) called me today to let me know he just signed up for one of those unlimited long distance calling plans. And he was quick to toss in "...but I'm going to be watching a game tonite so don't call me".

Now, I'm not completely stupid - I know what the deal is and I told him: "You got this plan just so you can call to tell me not to call, huh?" Oh, sure - I know I call - I call a lot. Try to make me feel even more guilty about it than I already do. Take note that I stressed the word "try".

Are you one of those people who are always doing the dropping by someone's house or calling them up? After a while you think to yourself..."Self...if they really wanted to associate with you, they'd once in a while be on the receiving end...maybe, just maybe they are giving you a not too subtle hint?"

But then I remember what my friends always say..."I wish we lived closer as we could go over to each other's houses and hang out together". But then I counterthink with "well, maybe they are just saying this BECAUSE they don't live near me"...you know, the way people offer to help you when they never intend to - to begin with? Sorta like when people say "see you later" when you just met them - and you will never see them again as long as you live. So...it's my uneducated guess that if we lived closer we'd undoubtedly see some idiosyncrasy we do which grates on the other's nerves which we don't see over the phone and then we'd never go out again. You know - like when you go out with someone to a nice restaurant and they hold their knife like the killer in "Psycho"...only sticking straight up and down in a Neanderthalish manner? Or when someone uses their finger to scoot their food onto their fork at the very same restaurant...or reaches into their mouth repeatedly with what appears to be their entire hand to pick something out from between their back molars? Or...okay...okay...I'll stop...but you know...things like that which they never stop - yet they'd chastise their own child at the dinner table at home for doing the same thing.

I know what you are thinking: Who am I to talk about stopping since I never stop...talking? And don't I have some of my own idiosyncrasies? Yes, I do. But they are the good ones to have.

Don't believe me...give me a call and we'll talk about it. ;)