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zumba, tobi, and tubers

So MB was gone last weekend and when that happens, I kind of pine away, all Rapunzelly in my tower. I become slothful and listless and eat weird random things like yams. On top of that, I become highly susceptible to the hypnotic truthiness of infomercials. Maybe it’s the yams that do it. Which, if true, would be deeply disappointing because they’re supposed to be good for you as long as you don’t eat too many of them and turn orange much like the QT girls of yore. (Unless that’s just carrots. And not really true.) Well, regardless, I really don’t like the idea of my tubers ganging up on me. So, whether tuber collusion or no, over the course of the weekend, I found myself comatose in front of the TV for a total of 4, IV, FOUR infomercials. And it’s not like I seek them out. I don’t. I really truly don’t. It has to be the tubers. Damn you, tasty tubers.

Now, because I know you all rely on me for up-to-the-minute information, I feel it’s my duty to impart my newly gained infomercial knowledge with you. Even though this happened 4 days ago.

The Tobi Steamer: Oooh. It’s a portable steamer. No more ironing, ever; they promise. I learned my entire world will become smooth and crisp and fresh, much like Martha Stewart’s before the rap sheet. Oh, I think it does windows too. And carpets. And your face.

Zumba!: A bunch of people with magic Zumba sticks shaking their hips all the way to rock-hard abs and bods. It’s all very hypnotic. I learned that it’s really true that hips don’t lie. Quite the contrary. They are honest and loyal and hardworking. Very very hardworking.

Sheer Cover Makeup: Leeza Gibbons’ line of mineral makeup. Here, I learned that the twin who put on the Sheer Cover and went for a 5-mile run — in full makeup like we all do — looked better than the twin who put on other lesser makeup and also went for a 5-mile run. She was sweaty and streaky. The other twin was perfect and glowing. Good job, Leeza. Stirring the turd of sibling rivalry on national TV — all to line your pretty little pockets. There’s no covering that.

Meaningful Beauty: Cindy Crawford’s skincare line. I learned that beauty can be meaningful and cheap at the same time. But if the kit doesn’t include a temporary magic mole, it don’t mean squat, does it?

Now, lest you think otherwise, I didn’t order any of these things. Nope, not a one. The tubers don’t hold that much power over me, I guess. I’m susceptible to the truthiness, but not overcome by the truthiness. And just because these websites are now in my Bookmarks doesn’t imply a thing about any future relationship I may have with Tobi or Zumba or Leeza or Cindy. Not a thing.

Sometimes I just sit and eat yams and hanker is all.

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so cool

I’m adding a blog called The Selby to Thee Olde Blogrolle. It’s a fabulous photo blog of cool, funky people and their homes. I’m loving it. Because I’m a voyeur, basically. Aren’t we all? I love seeing how other people live, where they live, what they do with the space. Go check it out!
theselby.jpg

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nutjob killer housed here

MB had to journey up to the deep dark middle of nowhere this past weekend. To get there, you must drive through this teeny tiny town and see this — the largest building in town — the courthouse where Charles Manson was briefly incarcerated after his arrest. You can’t miss it. You drive right past it. And then you’re out of that town, basically. We always look at it and go “Eeek!” or “Owww!” or “Aaaah!” or “Helter Skelter!” or “You’re not gettin’ me, psycho nutjob!”

You know, something appropriate to the weighty horror of it all.
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On a cheerier note: Look at the color of that sky. And with a cell phone no less! Aaaah!

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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.