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i find myself sitting around ….

…. contemplating the baffling career of Jerry O’Connell.

I don’t know why.

But I’m suddenly all ramped up about it.

Okay. Here we go.

Stand By Me a jillion years ago? He was great as chubby, frightened Vern Tessio. I think it’s a practically perfect movie, but O’Connell “doesn’t like to talk about it” because he was fat back then. Dude, you were 12. You were deep in the throes of puberty. And you’re not fat now. You’re being ridiculous and stupid and egotistical. You really won’t talk about a great movie — your greatest movie, frankly — because 22 years ago you were fat?? Really?? That’s all you see when you see that movie?? You need to chill. And grow up.

Uhm, moving on ….

Jerry Maquire a dozen years ago? He was good as self-absorbed quarterback Frank Cushman Remember his little “Cush Lash” ditty? So ridiculous and funny.

Oh, and I guess he was on “Crossing Jordan” — or whatever that show was called — for a few years. But most recently? A cancelled TV show called “Carpoolers” where he played a character with the clunky name Laird. MB and I stumbled across this show one night, watched 30 seconds, and then slit our wrists. It’s true. So horrifying we were instantly mute and suicidal. That show was just this past season and yet O’Connell has already moved on to next season with some sure-to-be-cancelled show I’ve only seen commercials for called — wait, I have to go look up the name — “Do Not Disturb.” I firmly believe this show will never see the light of day, just based on the commercial: It features O’Connell and a chubby black actress riding an elevator. The song “Please Don’t Stop the Music” comes on and they start dancing. The dance progresses to the point where he bends over and she mimes spanking him. The doors open right at that moment and — hahaha! — everyone sees them in this pose. Hahaha!

Jerry O’Connell, what is the DEAL with you? Are you that desperate for attention?

It’s bizarre to me. He started off with such promise and he’s become, to me, a total joke. He’s tall, he’s good-looking but not too good-looking. There’s a tiny hint of a Brendan Fraser goofiness about him. But, really, I think it boils down to his ego. He couldn’t pull off what Brendan Fraser does in his movies because — and this is just my perception — his ego is cripplingly huge. He strikes me now as someone who could never ever be unself-conscious. On top of that, he just doesn’t seem to take his craft seriously. (For instance, I think there’s no way at this point in his career that he could pull off something like Brendan Fraser’s turn in Gods and Monsters.) He’s not serious, yet, at the same time, has no sense of humor about himself. I know that sounds contradictory, but it’s not, really. He wants recognition without really working to deserve it. He wants to seem funny just because he’s there. Like, I’m in front of you; why aren’t you laughing??? There’s such a greed there. Such a selfishness. Hubris. It’s not about the work; his performances have become about him. I saw it in the 30 seconds we watched of his now-cancelled show. I see it in that 30-second commercial for his new sure-to-be-cancelled show. Look at me! Look at meeee! He’s extremely conscious of himself without possessing any self-awareness. Like a caricature of a person. Maybe he’s a true narcissist. I just don’t know really.

Even his marriage to Rebecca Romijn seems like a “look at me” move. “Look at me! Look who’s on my arm!” Blech. (Rebecca, you can do better. You’ve done better. You know, I think Brendan Fraser’s available.)

Bottom line: He basically disgusts me.

Okay. So I’m going on and on about Jerry O’Connell. I’m insane. Left alone and to my own devices, my mind wanders far afield, I guess. But, really, I don’t know what happened to him. Somewhere, something went horribly awry. I hate to say it, but maybe he should have stayed heavy, chubby, fat, whatever you want to call it. Maybe continuing to have that struggle would humanize him, make him go inside himself, make him a better actor, make him understand that actors need to embrace humanity, not merely mimic it.

I’ve rambled here, I know. But sometimes, one just has to get the baffling career of Jerry O’Connell off one’s chest.

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hunkering down

So it’s Gaye Pryde weekend here in SD. Last year at this time, we were at Boheme being repeatedly crushed by half-dressed rainbow crowds for hours on end.

Remember this moment? Good times. Good times.

And when your beloved is out of town and it’s Gaye Pryde weekend and the only parking in your neighborhood is in your private parking area — thank God! — and you live 3 blocks from the float staging area and 5 blocks from the start of the parade and you can still feel that crushing buzz in the air and you get up first thing to go to the store and people are driving like total loons all hopped up on pryde and you are greeted at the store by two giant bead-wearing Barry Manilow cut-outs propped up by the bottled water display, it’s probably best just to hunker down, you know?

Coffee. Movies. Magazines. Books. Pens. Paints. Laptop. Locked doors.

I’m hunkered. In my pajama bottoms and “Venti Schmenti” t-shirt.

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10 things i loved that no longer exist — list #1

A list of 10 Things I Loved That No Longer Exist (excluding people or pets or anything about personal appearance).

In no particular order:

1) My favorite coffee mug, handmade by Frances

2) Mission Hills Cafe

3) Dansk Tea Room

4) The little white church on the corner of Genter and Draper

5) Drama Dept. Chili Cook-Off

6) 58 W. Cremona Street, Seattle, WA

7) My college theatre before the remodel

8) The koi pond in the back of Cute House

9) The swing set and climbing net my dad made

10) My little yellow Datsun with the dented right bumper

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the place is a goldmine!

The site I stumbled upon that netted the findings in the last post has even more fabulous stuff! A series of 65 videos from The Mike Wallace Interviews which ran, apparently, from 1957 to 1960. You can watch the video or read the transcript — I love that — or both. Scroll down the page to find interviews with people like Gloria Swanson, Jean Seberg, Salvador Dali, Erich Fromm, Pearl S. Buck, and many others.

Wow. Can’t wait to dig in!

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the boxes of gloria swanson

So …. I was researching a vaguely remembered connection between Gloria Swanson and a certain Christian author I like. I Googled their names together and, wow, JACKPOT. I wasn’t ever expecting to find something like this: a complete inventory of her papers, scripts, posters, audiotapes, books, photos, mementos, etc. You name it; it’s there. I cannot believe the sheer volume of STUFF listed here. A movie star’s entire life, in 620+ boxes. It’s fascinating. Just the bare-bones LISTING is riveting to me. (All stored and available for viewing at the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center, University of Texas, Austin.) And yes, I found evidence of this connection I remembered — more than I’d even expected. It’s not that I needed to find out “Oh, she was a Christian” — no, her relationship with God is between her and God. It’s more curiosity. It’s that I like this man (he’s been an SD local for years, although not anywhere near me, and is now about a gajillion years old) and she seemed to like this man — or was at least interested in what he had to say — and so it makes me feel a strange connection to her. Like it would have been so interesting to be able to sit down with her and talk about what he has to say. This man not a well-known author in Christian circles and yet she stumbled across him somewhere along the road of her life, just as I have. So that piques my curiosity. She has listings, too, of materials from other better-known Christian authors — some heavy hitters actually — at the same time, she was also clearly interested in ESP and other supernatural phenomena. She had myriad interests — macrobiotics, conservative politics, fashion, spirituality — as this long LONG list will show anyone who takes the time to go through it. Just my first time through, not really lingering, took me 30-40 minutes, but I loved it!

Anyhoo. I’ve cut and pasted a very small sampling here. Nothing is edited, but I had to change the format slightly to make it readable for the blog. (The copy/paste made the spacing all wonky.) If you like this kind of stuff — as I do — check out the link. (Any comments of mine in these listings will be italicized.)

A sampling from the boxes of Gloria Swanson:

box 267 Book, “How Do You Do It?” ca. 1966-1968
folder 14 Table of contents and chapters 1-2: “Do What?” 1. “Well, Look the Way You Do”; 2. “Are You Really 67?”
folder 15 Chapters 3-4: 3. “You’re So Short! I Thought You Were Taller”; 4. “Where Do You Get Your Clothes?”
folder 16 Chapters 5-8: 5. “Did You Really Say You Think Everybody Should Be Good and Sick in Their Twenties?”; 6. “What Do You Eat? I Heard You Were a Food Faddist”; 7. “Are You Also a Vegetarian?”; 8. “When You Go Out to Dinner Do You Really Take Your Food in a Paper Bag?”
folder 17 Chapters 9-13: 9. “Didn’t You Make a Speech in Washington on Delinquency and Malnutrition?”; 10. “What Do You Have Against Doctors?”; 11. “What About Exercise?”; 12. “What Church Do You Belong To?”; 13. “Do You Mind I Ask You a Personal Question?”
(Does this book actually exist I wonder? These chapter titles are hilarious.)

*****
box 268
folder 2 Earlier draft or version? (“Beauty Book”) Topics arranged alphabetically: chemical seasonings, chewing, coffee and tea, eggs, face lifts, fasting, food, illnesses, kitchen, liquor, manners, miso spread, oatmeal, pills, potassium broth, rice (rice cream meal, scallops with rice cream, brown rice patties), salt, seaweed, soba, sugar, tempura (apple pie, chapati), travel, vegetables, water, womb

*****
folder A15 Self caricatures, 2 items, 1978 (Some art of hers. I love that she did caricatures of herself.)

*****
box 451 folder 221-222 Miscellaneous topics: Dog songs, etc., bidets, soil, charity, garbage, castor oil, P.B., nothing new, dog songs, Neiman Marcus, Puritan, etc., movie camera, fragrance, ice cream soda, panty girdle, ironing board, seance (?), nothing beyond; TV, priest, etc., poverty program, feet, food, travel, restaurants, dinner parties, diction, college girls, show girls, dyed hair

*****
box 447 folder 111-116 Merlin Carothers, Praise Foundation Presents Selected Messages (111-116 boxed set, removed to box 453)
111 How God Taught Me to Praise
112 Leap for Joy
113 Real Faith
114 Set Free
115 Start Trusting
116 Taming the Tongue
Jack Hayford, The Church on the Way
117 The Church that Christ Builds, no. 146
118 Learning to Walk in the Dark, no. 189
119 The Name of Jesus, no. 102
120 Welcome to the Family of God, no. 250
124 The Illuminati (Complete Documented History), Christian Defense League
box 448 folder 125 The Illuminati (cont.)
126 Kathryn Kuhlman Foundation, Irene Oliver, MS2047
127 John MacArthur, How to Know God’s Will, The Word of Grace Tape Ministry

*****
138-152 The New American Standard Bible, New Testament (138-153 boxed set, removed to box 453)

*****

box 452 folder 240 The Peanut Butter Caper, 1977 (I have no idea, but I like the title. Television movie, maybe? She wasn’t doing big screen movies by this time)

*****
box 537 Cartier cases, [192-], 2 travel cases designed for Miss Swanson’s Rolls Royce by Cartier; both have a cloisonné finish with a metal rim and leather interior and were apparently made in France; one case includes a mirror, leather card case, leather sewing kit with scissors and six silver cosmetic containers; the other case has a small clock installed and also includes an ashtray, silver lighter and leather notepad (They sound gorgeous. And handy.)

*****
box 536 Overskirt, ca. 1950, chiffon leopard print overskirt worn by GS as Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard

*****
box 535 Shoes, nd, one pair Saks Fifth Avenue black fabric evening shoes with rhinestone trim and heels, size 4 1/2 B (She was teeny — something like 4-11. Look how small her feet were!)

Go check out that link if you want to see more. MUCHHH more.

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lemonade stands

This piece about kids and their lemonade stands is killing me. If you’re like me, you will be wiping away tears of laughter at the end of it. This piece is a sheer joy, a gift, the pick-me-up you need even if you think you don’t need a pick-me-up. Trust me, you do. Kids just kill me, I tell ya.

Some favorite things from the article, no context until you read it, of course:

“Rebecca is freaking.” (The kid is 5.)

“OREONADEOL.” (Hahahahaha. That is so crazy.)

The use of the phrase “start pouring.”

When “SAM” gives his financial advice. I love SAM.

Oh, and his “classy combo.”

The side service of “fortune telling.”

“One, two, three, four, I’m tired.”

Just please do yourselves a favor and read it. It’s short and hilarious and, honestly, I’m still crying with laughter about it. I cannot get over OREONADEOL. I will never be over OREONADEOL.

Please read so we can discuss OREONADEOL — and the rest.

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thank you, tony snow

I’ve felt so sad about the passings of Tim Russert and, most recently, Tony Snow. But in the midst of that, I found this piece of Snow’s, written a year ago about the unexpected blessings of his illness, so moving and so strangely uplifting. Thank you, Tony Snow. You will be missed.

I encourage you to go read his piece.

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the barista with the book deal, part 1

(Another post from my lonely bulging “drafts” box. Didn’t I recently start a now-languishing crusade to throw out or finish these drafts? I did, didn’t I? Seems like something I would do with totally extreme gusto for about five minutes. This post I just saved from certain death originates from October 16, 2006. I was working at The Beanhouse with all the kooks and malcontents, as you may or may not recall. I mean, I barely recall, so you’re definitely off the hook here. And, oh — I’ve cleverly disguised most of the names of celebrities in this post. Why “most of” and not “all”? Because it just makes sense to me that way. If you can finish the New York Times Saturday Crossword, you MIGHT be able to decipher the disguised names on your own. Maybe. In the end, if it’s still too big a mystery and you simply must know who I’m talking about, you can email me and I will tell you, ‘kay? Also: If any of you email me about this, I will think less of you forever. But please email me if you’re still not sure. Just know that I will think less of you. For eternity. Don’t let that stop you, though, because, you know, who the heck cares what I think?)

Oh, yeah. Here’s the post ………

******************************

She was always sucking up to me. Buttering me up. Which I kinda liked at first. No, not “kinda”; let’s be honest: I completely bought into all her obsequious patter because — I discovered — I’m a weak-willed egomaniac. From Shondra’s first day at The Beanhouse, while I was training her, there was a steady soothing stream of “ooh, you’re so smart,” and “haha, you’re so funny,” and “ooh, what a good idea!” Which was sorta nice, you know? I mean, unless that someone is breaking up with you, who among us would stop someone openly extolling our privately believed greatness? Well, maybe someone afflicted with humility. So not me, basically. And because of my massive, crippling ego, I found myself agreeing with her at every turn. There was nothing she said that wasn’t absolutely pleasant and true, resonating deep in the shallows of my heart: Wow, she gets me. She appreciates me and all I have to give. She’s right, you know. I am smart. I am funny. I am ingenius. Thank God someone around here finally noticed. The best new hire since, well, me. A real keeper. No. No. A jewel.

A mere month later, however, it was unanimously decided by all The Beanhouse crew that Shondra was a pathological liar.

It started small. I mean, I actually thought she was joking when she told me that actress Istina Crapplegate was her very best friend. It just didn’t seem like a match, somehow. And this is where I’ll be racist and prejudiced and a hater, I guess, but I just couldn’t see it. I couldn’t see this lumbering black lesbian with a blonde buzz cut who also worked at a place up the street that made fruit bouquets and had two grown children being very best friends with sleek, blonde, funny Istina Crapplegate. They just seemed opposites. Like they might not have a lot in common. Still, she seemed quite in earnest about the whole thing.

So naturally, I inquired further.

“Wow. So how did you two meet?”

“At a party.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.

“Wow.”

I just let it drop. For now. But the next day, I brought up the conversation again. All curious. I mean, who wouldn’t be curious when they hear someone else is very best friends with Istina Crapplegate? Who wouldn’t delve into that just a wee bit further? And who wouldn’t question the Very Best Friend about Istina Crapplegate’s recent artistic achievements? Because what Very Best Friend wouldn’t already know what you — a mere observer of the entertainment world — also just happen to know? And wouldn’t it be fun to discuss your shared knowledge of Ms. Crapplegate’s career? And wouldn’t it be even MORE fun to hear all the juicy tidbits from a person in the deep deep know, especially someone who thinks so highly of you and would probably not hesitate to tell you anything you want to know?

Well, duh. That’s what I thought, too.

“Soo … how often are you in contact with Istina?”

“Oh, all the time. We’re real close.”

“Uh-huh.”

Pause.

“Sooo …. wasn’t she just on Broadway or something?”

“Uhh –”

“Seems like I heard that.”

“Uhh –”

“Yeah. What’s the name of that show she did?”

“Um … well, I don’t know. I know she did a show, though.”

“Oh, yeah, I thought so too.”

I am evil.

Pause.

“Soo … you met at a party, huh?”

“Yep. A party for Noprah Sinfrey. I met Noprah, too.”

“Wow, Noprah? Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“She helped me get my book deal.”

Eh, there, Peaches?

“Oh. You have a book deal?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s your book about?”

“Oh, well, it’s kind of like a memoir thing. Like about my childhood. Some really intense stuff, you know?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah. She calls me about it all the time.”

“Who does?”

“Noprah.”

“Noprah calls you?”

“Yeah, to check up on me. She wants me to finish it so I can be on her show.”

“Noprah wants you to be on her show to promote your memoir?”

“Uh-huh.”

I found myself suddenly thinking about that James Frey fellow … Noprah sure loved him …

“Wow.”

“Yeah, it’s cool. I’m a really goot writer. Jus’ comes real easy to me.”

I remember how she said goot.

“So it’s not hard for you to write about all that intense stuff?”

“Nope. Not at all.”

“Wow. Well, lemme know when you’re gonna be on Noprah so I can watch.”

“Oh, for sure. I will.”

One way or the other, God help me, I could not wait.

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live! from miss universe

Yeah. I supposedly gave up pageants a long time ago, and yet … I’m watching this one right now. I’m too swept up to feel the self-loathing right now. Plenty of time for that later.

So here is what you need to know:

— Miss USA just fell smack on her little sequined bum in the evening gown competition. Dammit, Miss USA. Don’t you know you’ve just shamed our entire country and lost this pageant? But … oh, here we go …. she gets up quickly, tight Vaseline smile momentarily dropped, and claps for herself. What is that all about? The clapping? I’m unsure what it means. What does that mean, really: Look at me! I’m up! I stood back up again! I’m UP as opposed to DOWN! I mean, I could have stayed down and slid around the stage on my ass or maybe rolled offstage but …. I didn’t! (Clap clap) You know, lots of other people might trip and fall and just stay down but not me! Think about it, world! Of the split-second choices I had just now to: 1) get my live-on-TV butt back up to vertical or 2) never get up, ever, I got back up! So if you ever fall down in the future and go through a dark split second of the soul and contemplate not getting up ever, think about me and get up! Clap it out! I mean, do I want to die right now? Sure I do. This is the worst thing that could ever happen to a person. But I want to show people that you can have the worst thing in the world happen to you and live through it even if you don’t want to or even if other people think you won’t. I mean, to anyone out there thinking, “Wow. Look at that. I bet she doesn’t get up ever. I sure wouldn’t” see how crazy and negative and doubty that thinking was? You too can fall down and get up and live to clap it out again! Of course, I just totally tanked this pageant and I want to die but tomorrow I’ll be all over YouTube inspiring people with my indomitable spirit! Clap clap ….

— So I really didn’t like the clapping, I guess.

— Sometimes a big ol’ swear word is just more human, you know?

— Miss Dominican Republic is wearing a gown of mirrors. I kid you not. It’s like Liberace’s piano. Lord. Teeny tiny mirrors all over her, you know, assets. Men in the audience all go mad with applause. I can see myself in her boooobs! Woo-hoooo!

— Miss USA doesn’t make the top 5. She falls to the floor in despair and doesn’t get up this time and Donald Trump drags her offstage by her hair and marries her.

— That didn’t really happen.

— The not-making-the-Top-5 part is totally true, though.

— She FELL and then clapped it out like a robot, okay? Of course she didn’t make the Top 5.

— Plus, her dress was lame. It looked better before she stood up.

— Also this is LIVE! from exotic Vietnam, so they have to play a video of the girls sightseeing, naturally. The group visits the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum to “pay their respects to the father of modern Vietnam, Ho Chi Minh,” host Jerry Springer intones.

— “Pay respects,” really??

— It’s down to Miss Colombia and Miss Venezuela. (Insert your own political comment here.) Miss Colombia is pretty and when asked What would you change about your life so far, responded, “My family is so supportive and I am always happy and I would not change a thing. It’s perfect.” Miss Venezuela is smokin’ hot and when asked Who has it harder in life, men or women, responded, “Men think the fastest way to a place is a straight line; women know the fastest way is to go through all the curves”; so, of course, with this totally nonsensical, non-responsive answer AND smokin’ hotness …… she WINS.

Fine. Whatevs. But can she do something about the price of gas?