Monday, January 17, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
let it snow, etc.
I love the snow
I'm starting to get tired of the shoveling, but still , I love the snow.
When we were kids when it snowed, we would shovel our driveway and then hike around the block asking folks if they wanted us to dig them out. We would make a coupla two three bucks. Walkin' around money. A slurpee and a candy bar and a comic book.
Now, none of these little punks in the neighborhood even go out in the snow! And where I am now the neighborhood is lousy with kids, but none of these little orchids will come out in the snow.
In MY Day..........blah, blah, blah. (fill in your own "in my day anecdote" here)
So ' I'm out there by myself, shovel in hand, walking the heart attack high wire diggin' the truck out of the drifts.
Oh and here's another bit of ol' man whining, How come the plow guy can't get a little bit closer to the curb? I dig out to the end of the driveway and I still have six feet to go. Damnation!
Oh, oh, oh ,oh, here's something else! The guy who lives diagonally across the street is a contractor, so he dug himself out with some heavy equipment. I got a $5.99 K mart snow shovel and he's got a back hoe! A little help maybe? (do you think part of the problem might be that he has lived across the street for 5 years and I can only think to call him "that guy"?, nah can't possibly be me)
So I'll finish the walk go inside and drink some ovaltine and look out the window and dig on Mother Nature as she channels Christo and Jean Claude and blankets the neighborhood.
ps I will admit that I started to write about some other topic of a more personal nature and got a bit overwhelmed- I'll get to it someday
I'm starting to get tired of the shoveling, but still , I love the snow.
When we were kids when it snowed, we would shovel our driveway and then hike around the block asking folks if they wanted us to dig them out. We would make a coupla two three bucks. Walkin' around money. A slurpee and a candy bar and a comic book.
Now, none of these little punks in the neighborhood even go out in the snow! And where I am now the neighborhood is lousy with kids, but none of these little orchids will come out in the snow.
In MY Day..........blah, blah, blah. (fill in your own "in my day anecdote" here)
So ' I'm out there by myself, shovel in hand, walking the heart attack high wire diggin' the truck out of the drifts.
Oh and here's another bit of ol' man whining, How come the plow guy can't get a little bit closer to the curb? I dig out to the end of the driveway and I still have six feet to go. Damnation!
Oh, oh, oh ,oh, here's something else! The guy who lives diagonally across the street is a contractor, so he dug himself out with some heavy equipment. I got a $5.99 K mart snow shovel and he's got a back hoe! A little help maybe? (do you think part of the problem might be that he has lived across the street for 5 years and I can only think to call him "that guy"?, nah can't possibly be me)
So I'll finish the walk go inside and drink some ovaltine and look out the window and dig on Mother Nature as she channels Christo and Jean Claude and blankets the neighborhood.
ps I will admit that I started to write about some other topic of a more personal nature and got a bit overwhelmed- I'll get to it someday
Saturday, January 8, 2011
going to hell in a handcart...but not hungry
I had a relationship with a lovely young lady a few years back. While it lasted, delightful.
(here I will interject that very few of my relationships end as "pals". Scorched earth would probably be a more accurate description- but that's a discussion for another time perhaps)
A delightful woman. Smart, funny, beautiful, the whole magilla.
When she was upset or felt that her life was in disarray (sometimes I was the source, but most times , not) she would do something to her hair. A new style, a new color- sometimes subtle, sometimes ....hmmmm....dramatic. One look would tell you all you needed to know. An inch or so off the length- okay. Bangs- uh oh. Platinum Blond- run!
"When I find myself in times of trouble...." This young lady would head for the salon.
I cook and/or bake.
I like to cook and will do so most nights, but I'm talking about when the clouds of doom are gathering , I will COOK. Head down, all business, try to dice and chop my way to tranquility.
Today I made a batch of brownies, an Irish soda bread, an onion tart, 24 meatballs and the sauce to go with them, a pot of black bean soup and a pot of minestrone.
And I did three loads of laundry
Run.
....but please take some of this food with you.
(here I will interject that very few of my relationships end as "pals". Scorched earth would probably be a more accurate description- but that's a discussion for another time perhaps)
A delightful woman. Smart, funny, beautiful, the whole magilla.
When she was upset or felt that her life was in disarray (sometimes I was the source, but most times , not) she would do something to her hair. A new style, a new color- sometimes subtle, sometimes ....hmmmm....dramatic. One look would tell you all you needed to know. An inch or so off the length- okay. Bangs- uh oh. Platinum Blond- run!
"When I find myself in times of trouble...." This young lady would head for the salon.
I cook and/or bake.
I like to cook and will do so most nights, but I'm talking about when the clouds of doom are gathering , I will COOK. Head down, all business, try to dice and chop my way to tranquility.
Today I made a batch of brownies, an Irish soda bread, an onion tart, 24 meatballs and the sauce to go with them, a pot of black bean soup and a pot of minestrone.
And I did three loads of laundry
Run.
....but please take some of this food with you.
Friday, January 7, 2011
well, that ain't right......
Many years ago I went to a high school chorus concert, a good friend of mine, a mentor, was leading the chorus, A very religious fella of the born again variety. They performed a choral arrangement of "Imagine". A bold choice at the time. There was one change made in the lyric, I bet you can see this comin'- "And No Religion too..." became "And ONE Religion too..."
Well, that ain't right
The other day at the opening of the new congress, The Representatives read the Constitution aloud, into the record, a nice bit of state/stagecraft. Except they didn't read the entire document, some of the "icky" stuff (slavery, prohibition) was left out.
....ain't right.
A new edition Of Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer is (are) going to be published with some modifications, the most glaring of course, is the substitution of the word "slave" for the "N" word.
.........
If your going to make the choice and do the thing, whatever the thing is, do it. Could it be painful? could it be awkward? Could it raise questions?
Yes?
Tough.
Do the thing! Prepare for the sh*t storm that may ensue, but don't be a wimp, don't blink, move forward.
Don't presume that you can make these changes because, ....well....cause...y'see.....
No. I don't see. You shouldn't do it. Things are messy, the past, the present, the future are all overflowing with dilemmas,you can't fix them, maybe you can learn from them, maybe you can gain some insight, glean a bit of wisdom, but that ain't going to happen if you hide the funky stuff because the neighbors are coming over.
Do the thing and take the hit.
ps on a slightly related topic, years ago I was working on a production of the musical "Tom Sawyer" (a wonderful show, by the way) and in doing research I visited The Mark Twain House in Hartford. A great library and research facility as well as...his house! which you can tour. And there,If memory serves on the second floor, in the kids playroom, was the table where Twain wrote Tom Sawyer. Right There! I love that kinda stuff.
Well, that ain't right
The other day at the opening of the new congress, The Representatives read the Constitution aloud, into the record, a nice bit of state/stagecraft. Except they didn't read the entire document, some of the "icky" stuff (slavery, prohibition) was left out.
....ain't right.
A new edition Of Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer is (are) going to be published with some modifications, the most glaring of course, is the substitution of the word "slave" for the "N" word.
.........
If your going to make the choice and do the thing, whatever the thing is, do it. Could it be painful? could it be awkward? Could it raise questions?
Yes?
Tough.
Do the thing! Prepare for the sh*t storm that may ensue, but don't be a wimp, don't blink, move forward.
Don't presume that you can make these changes because, ....well....cause...y'see.....
No. I don't see. You shouldn't do it. Things are messy, the past, the present, the future are all overflowing with dilemmas,you can't fix them, maybe you can learn from them, maybe you can gain some insight, glean a bit of wisdom, but that ain't going to happen if you hide the funky stuff because the neighbors are coming over.
Do the thing and take the hit.
ps on a slightly related topic, years ago I was working on a production of the musical "Tom Sawyer" (a wonderful show, by the way) and in doing research I visited The Mark Twain House in Hartford. A great library and research facility as well as...his house! which you can tour. And there,If memory serves on the second floor, in the kids playroom, was the table where Twain wrote Tom Sawyer. Right There! I love that kinda stuff.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
do not adjust your dial......
I went to college in upstate New York, up near Buffalo- along the Southern Tier. Far away from home on Long Island, same state but an 8 hour drive. Sometimes longer, sometimes much longer. Maybe I'll tell some of those travel stories one of these days. I'm sure after another year or two of therapy I'll be able to deal with saying it out loud.
During the previous post, i touched on TV watching, misspent days and nights with Jim and Tammy Bakker and the PTL club. This conjured up some other cathode ray memories;
On one of the local stations in Buffalo, I kick my self, I can't remember which, they were network affiliated , but that was mostly in the evening ,during the day, they were on their own. There was one middle aged gent, (again, a pox on me, I can't remember his name) who was the weather man , he was also the host of the bowling show, and the host of the High School Quiz Show and the host of the afternoon show for the kiddies. They certainly got their moneys worth with this fella. He probably swept up the studio at night as well.
Love Local TV.
Of course not all "Local" Tv is out in the Hinterlands. New York had it's share, The great kid shows of the 60's, Sandy Becker, Chuck McCann, Sonny Fox. Officer Joe Bolton was always a favorite- I loved that they used a cop to host the Three Stooges, he was there in case things got out of hand. Can't forget Capt. Jack McCarthy, I forget what show he hosted, I want to say Popeye, but that's too easy. Once a year on St. Patricks Day, Capt. Jack would be the host/commentator of the parade. God love him, he knew every person who marched in the parade by first name and had a personal anecdote to share about each and everyone.
To my mind though, the single greatest personality to appear on NY TV was Stanley Siegel. Some of you are nodding in approval, others shaking your head in disgust and the majority are asking, "WHO?"
Ah, Stanley. To say he was one of a kind doesn't do him justice. To say that he was the perfect embodiment of the nervous breakdown that the City was going thru during the late 70's is just about right.
He was on for an hour starting at 9am, the Regis spot. When the show started it was basic daytime talk show fare, some opening remarks, a guest or two- someone selling a self help book or a TV star , maybe a recipe, maybe a clown from the circus...... you get the idea.
As the days and months passed things started to change, e or de volve, depending on how you felt about Stanley. As time passed the show became without question THE STANLEY SIEGEL SHOW! There was one topic every day; Stanley and how he viewed the world. The opening remarks became a rambling discourse about what he did since he saw us last. This would go on for a half hour. If he played tennis, which he did a lot, we heard about it. If he was having trouble with his Girlfriend, which he did a lot, we heard about it.
Good, Bad, warts and all, and more warts, We heard about it. In detail. Seemingly, with nothing left out. It was beyond train wreck- it was riveting. I used to be late to work because I couldn't drag myself away- I eventually got one of those radios that had TV band and a bunch of us would listen in the morning as the kiddies arrived (camp counselor).
It reached a point where one day a week , for about 20 minutes he would have his therapist on and Stanley would lie down on the couch and have a session , live on the air. No Holds barred.
A polarizing figure- you either loooooved him or detested him, there was no middle ground. I loved him. Here's one reason why and this will sound odd- there were times when it would get so uncomfortable that I would have to turn him off. I couldn't watch anymore, it was too raw, It was like Curb Your Enthusiasm x 100. BUT, how many other shows get you so involved, so invested in what's happening? Not many in my experience.
My favorite Stanley Memory- It was during a snowstorm, much like the blizzard that just passed,and the powers to be extended his show for an hour or two. The weatherman would come on and give updates , but Stanley had three hours to fill. Thank goodness he had guests that day, Eartha Kitt and Freddie Fender. Did Stanley stay in the studio and spend time with his guests? No, he put on his coat and hat and gloves and took a camera into Central Park and talked to the people out in the park during the storm. He got into a snowball fight with a bunch of kids, occasionally they would cut back to the studio and Eartha and Freddie were sitting on the set. (which I believe was a few bales of hay and a fence, I guess because Freddie was considered a country act) Freddie had his guitar and he and Eartha were singing bits of songs, oblivious to the camera.
They would cut back and forth, Stanley in the park, a weatherman, Freddie and Eartha.
Oh , it was glorious.
The lunatic had taken over the asylum
During the previous post, i touched on TV watching, misspent days and nights with Jim and Tammy Bakker and the PTL club. This conjured up some other cathode ray memories;
On one of the local stations in Buffalo, I kick my self, I can't remember which, they were network affiliated , but that was mostly in the evening ,during the day, they were on their own. There was one middle aged gent, (again, a pox on me, I can't remember his name) who was the weather man , he was also the host of the bowling show, and the host of the High School Quiz Show and the host of the afternoon show for the kiddies. They certainly got their moneys worth with this fella. He probably swept up the studio at night as well.
Love Local TV.
Of course not all "Local" Tv is out in the Hinterlands. New York had it's share, The great kid shows of the 60's, Sandy Becker, Chuck McCann, Sonny Fox. Officer Joe Bolton was always a favorite- I loved that they used a cop to host the Three Stooges, he was there in case things got out of hand. Can't forget Capt. Jack McCarthy, I forget what show he hosted, I want to say Popeye, but that's too easy. Once a year on St. Patricks Day, Capt. Jack would be the host/commentator of the parade. God love him, he knew every person who marched in the parade by first name and had a personal anecdote to share about each and everyone.
To my mind though, the single greatest personality to appear on NY TV was Stanley Siegel. Some of you are nodding in approval, others shaking your head in disgust and the majority are asking, "WHO?"
Ah, Stanley. To say he was one of a kind doesn't do him justice. To say that he was the perfect embodiment of the nervous breakdown that the City was going thru during the late 70's is just about right.
He was on for an hour starting at 9am, the Regis spot. When the show started it was basic daytime talk show fare, some opening remarks, a guest or two- someone selling a self help book or a TV star , maybe a recipe, maybe a clown from the circus...... you get the idea.
As the days and months passed things started to change, e or de volve, depending on how you felt about Stanley. As time passed the show became without question THE STANLEY SIEGEL SHOW! There was one topic every day; Stanley and how he viewed the world. The opening remarks became a rambling discourse about what he did since he saw us last. This would go on for a half hour. If he played tennis, which he did a lot, we heard about it. If he was having trouble with his Girlfriend, which he did a lot, we heard about it.
Good, Bad, warts and all, and more warts, We heard about it. In detail. Seemingly, with nothing left out. It was beyond train wreck- it was riveting. I used to be late to work because I couldn't drag myself away- I eventually got one of those radios that had TV band and a bunch of us would listen in the morning as the kiddies arrived (camp counselor).
It reached a point where one day a week , for about 20 minutes he would have his therapist on and Stanley would lie down on the couch and have a session , live on the air. No Holds barred.
A polarizing figure- you either loooooved him or detested him, there was no middle ground. I loved him. Here's one reason why and this will sound odd- there were times when it would get so uncomfortable that I would have to turn him off. I couldn't watch anymore, it was too raw, It was like Curb Your Enthusiasm x 100. BUT, how many other shows get you so involved, so invested in what's happening? Not many in my experience.
My favorite Stanley Memory- It was during a snowstorm, much like the blizzard that just passed,and the powers to be extended his show for an hour or two. The weatherman would come on and give updates , but Stanley had three hours to fill. Thank goodness he had guests that day, Eartha Kitt and Freddie Fender. Did Stanley stay in the studio and spend time with his guests? No, he put on his coat and hat and gloves and took a camera into Central Park and talked to the people out in the park during the storm. He got into a snowball fight with a bunch of kids, occasionally they would cut back to the studio and Eartha and Freddie were sitting on the set. (which I believe was a few bales of hay and a fence, I guess because Freddie was considered a country act) Freddie had his guitar and he and Eartha were singing bits of songs, oblivious to the camera.
They would cut back and forth, Stanley in the park, a weatherman, Freddie and Eartha.
Oh , it was glorious.
The lunatic had taken over the asylum
Monday, January 3, 2011
not so fast......
I admit it!
I mocked!
I belittled!
I berated!
In the past I believe I wrote about Brother Camping. a hard core bible thumper, who seemingly is on the radio 24 hours a day. During a long drive I will skip around stations looking for something "unique" to listen to. I can't listen to stations that play music, odd- I know,.I love talkers. Not, call in shows, they depress and/or infuriate me, I like a show where someone with knowledge of their subject is given time to tell a story.
Often , this will lead to religious radio, they know their subject and are more than happy to share. Sometimes heartfelt and touching, sometimes fire and brimstone and sometimes just ...extraordinary.
The lyrics for the song, ONCE IN A LIFETIME, ("you may find yourself, living in a shotgun shack...") were culled from a radio preacher.
For a long time I have been fascinated by televangelists and their ilk (just wanted an excuse to use the word , ilk) The greatest of all reality television was back when , Jim and Tammy Bakker were building HERITAGE USA, their time share/Christan amusement park complex and at the same time where in the middle of all sorts of lawsuits and looming scandals.
The fate of the ministry was being decided, but there were also lots of live television shows that needed to be sent out to the faithful, The PTL (praise the lord or pass the loot) network was the lifeline that kept them connected to their audience and to the audiences checkbooks. If a show was set to start at 1 pm, the cameras turned on at 1 pm and somebody would walk on and host the show, Maybe Jim or Tammy, sometimes their daughter Tammy Sue, or one of the PTL singers.
For weeks the entire network was stream of consciousness television, Jim would lay it out , on the air, Live (!) what was going on, from his perspective. Sometimes on the set in front of the studio audience, but more often than not he would wander the grounds followed by cameras and show the home viewer what was happening at HERITAGE USA. Songs and prayers and tears and paranoia and joy and pain...... The most compelling TV I have ever seen. My pals and I first started watching in full ironic mockery mode, but after a bit you just had to watch to see what was going to happen next because it was totally raw. Amazing.
On TV , Jim and Tammy, had no filter , 24 hours a day they had their own network with a huge audience who hung on every word and the words just poured out.
Brother Camping on the radio is hardly as fascinating as the Bakkers , but I have become enamored of late because he is 100% sure that the world will come to an end in May of this year. He gives an actual date, but I can't remember it right now. I always think, What does he say the next day? The day after the end ,when every one tunes in to hear what went wrong. I'm sure he'll have an answer and I'm sure it will be based on a thorough reading of scripture.
I mock. I belittle. I berate.
This past weekend, in Arkansas, 2.000 birds fell out of the sky, dead. And tens of thousands of fish washed up on shore, dead.
hmmmmmm.
I mocked!
I belittled!
I berated!
In the past I believe I wrote about Brother Camping. a hard core bible thumper, who seemingly is on the radio 24 hours a day. During a long drive I will skip around stations looking for something "unique" to listen to. I can't listen to stations that play music, odd- I know,.I love talkers. Not, call in shows, they depress and/or infuriate me, I like a show where someone with knowledge of their subject is given time to tell a story.
Often , this will lead to religious radio, they know their subject and are more than happy to share. Sometimes heartfelt and touching, sometimes fire and brimstone and sometimes just ...extraordinary.
The lyrics for the song, ONCE IN A LIFETIME, ("you may find yourself, living in a shotgun shack...") were culled from a radio preacher.
For a long time I have been fascinated by televangelists and their ilk (just wanted an excuse to use the word , ilk) The greatest of all reality television was back when , Jim and Tammy Bakker were building HERITAGE USA, their time share/Christan amusement park complex and at the same time where in the middle of all sorts of lawsuits and looming scandals.
The fate of the ministry was being decided, but there were also lots of live television shows that needed to be sent out to the faithful, The PTL (praise the lord or pass the loot) network was the lifeline that kept them connected to their audience and to the audiences checkbooks. If a show was set to start at 1 pm, the cameras turned on at 1 pm and somebody would walk on and host the show, Maybe Jim or Tammy, sometimes their daughter Tammy Sue, or one of the PTL singers.
For weeks the entire network was stream of consciousness television, Jim would lay it out , on the air, Live (!) what was going on, from his perspective. Sometimes on the set in front of the studio audience, but more often than not he would wander the grounds followed by cameras and show the home viewer what was happening at HERITAGE USA. Songs and prayers and tears and paranoia and joy and pain...... The most compelling TV I have ever seen. My pals and I first started watching in full ironic mockery mode, but after a bit you just had to watch to see what was going to happen next because it was totally raw. Amazing.
On TV , Jim and Tammy, had no filter , 24 hours a day they had their own network with a huge audience who hung on every word and the words just poured out.
Brother Camping on the radio is hardly as fascinating as the Bakkers , but I have become enamored of late because he is 100% sure that the world will come to an end in May of this year. He gives an actual date, but I can't remember it right now. I always think, What does he say the next day? The day after the end ,when every one tunes in to hear what went wrong. I'm sure he'll have an answer and I'm sure it will be based on a thorough reading of scripture.
I mock. I belittle. I berate.
This past weekend, in Arkansas, 2.000 birds fell out of the sky, dead. And tens of thousands of fish washed up on shore, dead.
hmmmmmm.
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