Midwestern Jaws

Sometimes when you’re swimming in a lake or a river you’ll feel a fish brush up against your leg or dart away from your foot as you plod forward on the sand.

Do you ever imagine what’s actually down there?

I always picture a trout, even if I’m not in a stream. On my darker days I’ll think maybe it was a Muskie. But not this:

A longnose gar found on a beach along the St. Croix River in Minnesota.

Next time I feel something in the water, I’m going to scream “Longnose gar!”

And don’t think you’re safe just because you stay in relatively shallow water. The longnose gar can gulp air at the surface, allowing it to live in “hot, shallow water where most other fish can’t.”

Hooray!

We found this along the St. Croix River at Afton State Park. Freja, our dog, sniffed it but then didn’t want anything to do with it… gar isn’t good eatin’. She’s a carp gal all the way.

Longnose gar washed up on beach along St. Croix River in Minnesota.

Snout of a longnose gar.

Mind your toes!

Whatever Happened To (The Rest of) Baby Jane?

Does this inspire you to make a found object piece of art? A wreath of doll parts, perhaps? Or maybe a macrame plant hanger with arms woven into it?

The story of the doll arm: There used to be an entire baby doll. She was cast, naked, into one of my neighbor’s yards. I longed to take a photo of the naked doll in the snow, but it was too close to their front door and, alas, they are not the sort of folks who would take kindly to someone taking an “art picture” in their yard.

The Lady of the House often storms out in the early morning hours, one eye open and the other still crusted shut with sleep, wearing clothes it looks like she slept in, ready to fight the world.

About a week after her sighting, Baby Doll disappeared. I had visions of her being brought inside, clothed in a warm doll night gown and put into a doll cradle and rocked to doll sleep. “Oh, well,” I thought. “Someone took the doll in and is enjoying her company.”

Today I found this arm at the edge of their yard.

Another broken dream. I thought Toy Story was supposed to change everything.

Smash Notes: “The Coup”, Episode 8

Logo for the TV show Smash on NBC.

After watching episode 8 of Smash, I needed to take some time to myself and think things through. My train of thought went something like this:

“Wow, that was some bad TV. If smart, educated, trained people can produce something so rotten, then everything we think we know about everything, even and especially black holes, should be called into question.”

But today I feel like I’m ready to tackle the lukewarm mess that was “The Coup.” Here are this week’s Smash Notes:

Oh, Julia: We open on a scene of Julia (wearing some glasses she got through a Lion’s Club) eating sadness grapes in bed. She’s complaining about something. Watching Julia whine, complain and worry her way through this season while living in a fabulous brownstone and working on frickin’ Broadway has made me never want to take anything in my life for granted ever again.

Her handbag costs more than the Blue Book value for my car.

Then, hubby sings to her while playing one of those stupid “I’m With The Band” video games. I bet that affair is looking pretty good to Julia in the rear view mirror. She’s eating grapes, peering at her husband through those glasses thinking, “I made a mistake.”

Continue reading Smash Notes: “The Coup”, Episode 8

The 1980s Don’t Always Have To Be So… 1980s

Last night I watched Stop Making Sense, the Talking Heads concert film from 1984, directed by Jonathan Demme. Besides being blown away by the music, I was blown away by the fashion.

It’s not particularly memorable fashion, but it defies the fashion sense of the 1980s by not being so, well, 1980s.

The color palette is neutral (no neon!) and the cuts are roomy but also point to things we might see, and actually wear, today. If you watch the concert, you’ll notice that bassist Tina Weymouth (new girl crush) starts out with a roomy jumpsuit and then changes to a miniskirt with arm warmers, patterned tights and suede boots… straight out of the pages of NYLON or a post on The Sartorialist.

Bassist Tina Weymouth of The Talking Heads in Stop Making Sense.

Below is my favorite clip from the concert – for the song “Life During Wartime.” [Note: I’m still bummed that director Todd Solondz made a horrible, hard-to-watch movie bearing this title in 2009] Watch the back-up singers in their shorts/jumpers as they dance around having a blast along with David Byrne. I want to learn their moves and do it as a workout in my living room.

http://youtu.be/KsksSWOxq2Y

Note that they don’t have to have their breasts or asses hanging out to be beautiful and eye-catching. Would these outfits ever fly today? I don’t think so because:

1. They are comfortable.
2. They can move in them.
3. They dont’ show enough skin.

It’s too bad because, when you watch this video, the music and fashion are timeless. The only point during the entire concert when I could say for sure it was 1984 was during the last song, when the cameras turned to the audience, who were definitely rocking their 80’s finery.

Smash Notes: “The Workshop” Episode 7

Logo for the NBC show Smash.

Last night Smash tried to turn up the heat, promising that things were coming to a head, but instead the episode was tepid at best.

Here are this week’s Smash Notes:

The Arc of the Scarf: The plot line for scarves did come to a head last night when Julia used one as a snot rag to blow into when she was overcome with guilt and despair over her affair with Michael. Apparently, it was easy to sleep with him until she saw his wife and child and then, all at once, she realized she was a Bad Person and felt the need to run outside and cry into a silk scarf. Then she had to go home.

When was the last time Julia put in a full day of work instead of taking off somewhere with her satchel? She’s constantly running to the studio, running home, running out for pie, running out for a midnight walk…

Through all of this, Faithful But Clueless Hubby has been studying chemistry. I’m starting to wonder if it’s a chemistry textbook with a copy of Hustler tucked inside.

Meanwhile, in a show of scarf support, Tom showed up to the workshop performance with one around his neck. Purple, ‘natch, because he’s a gay man who is supposedly secure in his gayness. Which leads me to…

Continue reading Smash Notes: “The Workshop” Episode 7

Smash Notes: “Chemistry,” Episode 6

Title for NBC show "Smash."

Hmm… I can’t decide. Should I begin this week’s Smash recap with Ivy’s Pred Shakes or Karen’s Bar Mitzvah triumph?

Oh, who am I kidding? Let’s talk about Julia’s scarves.

Scarves, Symbol of Conflict: Did you notice that as soon as hubby came back from wherever he was – a conference? – the scarves came back out? Yep, hubby was back and that neck was swaddled tighter than a newborn. But it didn’t take.

Continue reading Smash Notes: “Chemistry,” Episode 6

Living By The Book: Writing Love Notes

My next Inspiration Sandwich task was to take on SARK’s advice to, “Write more love letters.”

Sark Drawing of a love letter.She writes,”Letters are a chance for the soul to speak. A mood captured in the fibers of the paper, a world in an envelope which will not exist until it is opened. Love letters make love stay visible. You can rub it, smell it, touch it, share it and sleep with it under your pillow.”

She then goes on to describe all kinds of love letters one could write – on a sheet that you can sleep under, on the sidewalk in chalk, in the sand, to yourself, on a cotton scarf.

Obviously, mail used to be more important and necessary. Now, some people look down upon it because they are “busy” and have Facebook and e-mail to use when the mood strikes to be chatty. The other day I was reading some comments in an online community and one person said that if anyone he interviewed for a job had ever sent him a thank you note he would have thought them weird and “stalker-ish.”

Continue reading Living By The Book: Writing Love Notes

My Minneapolis Apartment, 1999-2001

In January, I posted about finding my notes from apartment hunting in Minneapolis. Since then, I’ve been thinking about some of the high(low) lights of living in the apartment that was the result of that search.

Noise
The apartment was located above an establishment called Bryant Lake Bowl. Establishing shot:

Bryant Lake Bowl in Minneapolis.
Usual reaction from people: “You lived above a bowling alley? Wow, that must have been noisy.” Yes! But not because of the obvious reason. There is a small theater space connected to the restaurant/bowling lanes and, when I lived there, the person who booked the space had a predilection for hip hop.

Continue reading My Minneapolis Apartment, 1999-2001

Taco: Musical Genius of the 1980s?

Conversation with Keith:

Keith: Would you rather see a staging of the musical Chess or a combined hits of the 80s show co-headlined by Taco and Falco?

Rebecca: I would rather see Chess.

Keith: Really?

Rebecca: Well, Falco is dead, so…

Keith: Falco is dead?

Rebecca: You didn’t know about the tragic death of Falco?

Keith: No… how did he die?

Rebecca: In a car accident! A big car crash… His life cut short…

[Note: Falco died of injuries after his car collided with a bus in the Dominican Republic in 1998. He was 40.]

Keith: Then Taco could sing all of Falco’s songs for the show… Or they could hire the number one Falco tribute act to fill in for Falco. Their name is “Eagl,” without the “e” at the end.

Rebecca: Well, I don’t like Taco that much to begin with so… I wouldn’t want to hear Taco sing “Rock Me, Amadeus.”

Keith: Taco was the musical genius of the 80s. He was really channeling the zeitgeist. What if you found out that Taco was working with Rick Rubin on a stripped-down, back-to-basics comeback album, which he would be promoting by playing clubs like First Avenue? Hey, do you think Taco and Bowie ever sang a duet? Taco and Mick Jagger?

Needless to say, I was not stirred by the prospect of a Taco return. If you don’t remember Taco, or weren’t pop culturally aware in the 80s, this is him:

Make sure you read the comments below the video… My favorite is:

“I’m scared of him but this is like the dopest song ever.”

My question: What’s up with the black face?

The Weekly Round-Up: Horror Stories Not Horrifying Enough

Here’s a quick overview of what I’m looking at, reading, watching, drinking, thinking, selling, promoting, procuring, etc. etc. this week. If you care.

Cover of the book The Night Strangers by Chris Bohjalian.READING: Do you ever get your hands on what you think will be a good ghost/ horror story and want to be alone with it, underneath a blanket? You think, “I want to so scared I’m afraid to go to the bathroom by myself.” So you sit in the house, alone, with no sound on (TV, radio, dishwasher, clothes washer, etc.) and read?

That’s what I was hoping for with The Night Strangers by Chris Bohjalian, which a lot of people/reviews liked. Here’s an overview of the plot: a pilot crash lands a plane in a river and almost all the passengers die. He retires from being a pilot and moves his family (wife and twin daughters) to New Hampshire, to an old Victorian house with a disturbing past, so he can brood. There is a door in the basement that seems to go nowhere, only he can’t verify that because it’s nailed shut with 39 carriage bolts. That’s exactly the number of people who died on the plane!

Oh, all the horror constructs are there, people:

  • Victorian house with an icky past
  • Twins
  • Traumatic event
  • Detail that may or may not have any significance (39 bolts)

I started reading. Plane crash. Move to house. Uh oh, a 12-year-old boy named Sawyer Dunmore committed suicide in the house a long time ago and he was a twin! Uh oh, the new family is having bad dreams.

Continue reading The Weekly Round-Up: Horror Stories Not Horrifying Enough

I Find This A Bit Charming, Don’t You?

From Craigslist:

Need a resume done, nothing too fancy as I only apply for blue collar jobs. Not looking for some CEO type job.

$20.00 or make offer.

Darren is my name.

I think it’s that ending that really grabs me. Darren is my name. It’s like the title of an after-school special or a Judy Blume book.

Smash Notes: Let’s Be Bad, Episode 5

Logo for the NBC show Smash.

We’re headed through the Looking Glass, guys.

Wardrobe, Julia, Again: This week Julia’s scarves and the heavy, ethnic necklaces both disappeared and we got the babydoll dresses [also known on the Internet as the “kinderwhore” look] with opaque tights. Could you, NBC, perhaps pay for a stylist?

However, I’d like to offer up a theory on Julia’s fashion habits:

Continue reading Smash Notes: Let’s Be Bad, Episode 5

Living By The Book: Miracle Walks

Hello, welcome to more Living By the Book.

I continue living the book Inspiration Sandwich by investigating the concept of Miracle Walks.

Miracle Walking is walking while being hyper-aware of everything around you. It’s saying hello to people. Not being in a rush. Checking out the sky.

SARK says, “Bring a small bag packed for extraterrestrial travel. Wear a brightly colored hat and pick a destination that delights you… Notice colors. Dream while moving.”

Note: You can skip the brightly colored hat. No, really.

I already walk everyday in every kind of weather. This is because I co-habit with a dog:

Freja the dog waiting to go for a walk.

This dog walks twice a day. When she was a crazy puppy, we trained her to want to walk and now that’s what we’re stuck with twice a day. But, since I walk everyday, I often do it without actually noticing anything at all.

So my mission was to go on some Miracle Walks. This also fits with SARK’s mandate to “Let your dog take you for a walk.”

Continue reading Living By The Book: Miracle Walks

Living By The Book: Inspiration Sandwich – Getting Inspired

Quick, what’s the first thing one should do before beginning a book called Inspiration SandwichCover of the book Inspiration Sandwich: Stories to Inspire our Creative Freedom by SARK.?

That’s right – eat a sandwich.

I made exactly the kind of sandwich I wanted – grilled cheese. Secret ingredient: Pub Cheese, a cheese spread. Spread that on some really good French loaf, put some provolone, tomatoes and avocado on it too and you’ve got yourself a nice sandwich.

I sat down with my sandwich (and a dog to watch me eat it) and savored every bite.

After eating, I felt tired. But I didn’t take a nap (which SARK would have recommended). Instead, I climbed into my big, brown reading chair and read Inspiration Sandwich from cover to cover.

Continue reading Living By The Book: Inspiration Sandwich – Getting Inspired

Living By The Book: Inspired By Inspiration Sandwich

Sketch of a book with the text "Let the book fall shut."I’m starting an ongoing series today that I’m calling “Living By The Book,”* wherein I take a book with a message, lifestyle or self-help program, try to live by it or practice its tenets for awhile and see if / how it works.

I was inspired to do this by a book called, interestingly enough, Inspiration Sandwich by an artist/author named SARK (Susan Ariel Rainbow Kennedy). SARK is a writer and creativity teacher who’s been dispensing advice on how to keep your creativity alive since about the late 1980s. You can tell one of her books by their colorful, water-color-ish drawings. This is the cover of Inspiration Sandwich:

Inspiration Sandwich, Stories To Inspire Our Creative Freedom by SARK.

The book is a collection of ways to awaken your creative self. Some of the ideas include inviting someone dangerous to tea, buying a toy for yourself and taking lots of naps. Inside, it says, “In the SARK tradition, it was written while in pajamas, and in between naps. My first job was at age four as the wake-up fairy in kindergarten. I believe in waking up creative spirits.”

Continue reading Living By The Book: Inspired By Inspiration Sandwich

The Wednesday Outlook: February 29, 2012

If you’re a dog in Minnesota today, this is how you should dress before going out:

A beagle wearing a coat and snow booties.

You may have already heard this, or perhaps noticed it yourself by looking at a calendar, but today is Leap Day.

Tonight I may put together a note detailing where I am today and where I hope to be 4 years from now. I would seal this up in an envelope with a $20 bill and then hide it away until the next Leap Day, in 2016.

Why would I do this? I tend to get a big charge out of reading my goals from a distance. They make me more sympathetic to my former self and all I was trying to do. I feel tenderness towards this woman from the past, almost as if it’s not me. Also, it would be interesting and telling to see how much of it comes to pass, how much falls by the wayside and how much I actually care about any of it.

Continue reading The Wednesday Outlook: February 29, 2012

Smash Notes: The Cost of Art, Episode 4

Logo from NBC show Smash.

Before watching episode 4 of Smash, “The Cost of Art,” I wondered if I was perhaps the only person left in America still watching this show. But I was able to find some solace on Twitter.

There, you can follow Karen Cartwright  – @SmashKarenC. But wait, is @smashkaren the real Karen??

Julia Houston is ready to chat @SMASH_JuliaH. I’m relieved to see she lists herself as a “Scarf Aficionada.”

Julia’s partner, Tom Levitt, can be found @SmashTomLevitt if you want to talk show tunes. And who doesn’t at about 2:30 on a boring Wednesday afternoon?

I’m a bit sad no one has bothered to set up an account for Evil Intern, Ellis Tancharoen. Maybe because they gave the character the last name “Tancharoen,” which no one can be expected to remember.

And now, this week’s SMASH NOTES:

Continue reading Smash Notes: The Cost of Art, Episode 4

Oscar Fashion: A Battle Between Good/Evil

Luke Skywalker battles Darth Vader.My major revelation about last night’s Oscar fashions didn’t hit me until I woke up this morning. What we saw, played out in very expensive designer gowns, was a battle between good and evil. Fashion was wrestling with itself, forcing the actresses/starlets who paraded down that red carpet to choose sides.

Let me explain.

Without a doubt, the most popular color spectrum for gowns was white/flesh/champagne/silver. Put some beads on it, cut one arm off, don a cape, have a cascading train, it was still that same color palette. A wide shot of the red carpet revealed men in black tuxes and then blurs of women who appeared to be naked, so close was the color of their gown to their skin tone.

The leader of the white pack was Gwyneth Paltrow, wearing a gown Princess Leia herself might choose for her big day. The white, strapless Tom Ford gown was complemented with a cape that draped regally from her shoulders and fell in a strict, straight line down her pilates-enhanced back.

Continue reading Oscar Fashion: A Battle Between Good/Evil

Smash Notes: Episode 3

Right, so, last week, I missed watching Smash. I had something else going on and then never got around to watching it. Believe me, I thought about watching it any number of times as my guilt began to weigh heavily upon me.

But last night, as I watched episode 3 I realized it doesn’t matter.

I had no trouble following along. This is due to my superior powers of following a narrative thread or the fact that this show is written for 5th graders. Either way, I feel so light and carefree today.

Here are this week’s SMASH NOTES:

Continue reading Smash Notes: Episode 3

Smash Notes: Episode 1

Much like a whiny, demanding studio executive who has never actually created a minute of television myself, I offer up my “notes” on the new NBC show Smash.

SCARVES: What is with Debra Messing’s character, Julia, and scarves? There was not a scene in which she did not have something wooly wrapped around her neck. Is this symbolic of something about her character? There was even a scene in which she wore men’s pajamas, a cardigan sweater and a wooly scarf. In her bedroom. Do they not have heat on the set? WHAT GIVES??

I suspect that they aren’t sure how to make this character someone women can relate to so they went overboard with the natural fibers. I mean… See, she lives in New York and her job is “lyricist.” And she loves it so much that she’d kind of shunting aside this whole adoption thing, which could potentially be really boring for a couple of years… you know, taking care of a baby when you really want to be writing euphemistic songs about baseball.

APPLE PRODUCTS: OK, we get it. Apple is the only cool kind of computer anyone anywhere ever can ever, ever use. Even the waitress-trying-to-be-a-star has a freakin’ MacBook Pro. For all that Photoshop work she does on the side. Or whenever she comes home from a long day of try-outs and slinging sweet potato hash and gets the burning desire to edit a video.

Let’s try for some more realism here.

Which leads to me to my final note:

SEX: Turn up the sex volume to 11 in key scenes. It needs to go way beyond the lukewarm pap served last night.  The seduction scene between the director, Derek Wills, and rising star Karen Cartwright (Katharine McPhee)? I didn’t even understand what he was asking her when she came to his apartment enormous loft the size of IKEA for some “coaching.” Did he want her to act like Maryiln? Give him a blow job? The right answer was both, probably a bit more the latter,  but this was not immediately understood.

After his request, she, upset, excused herself and went to the bathroom. There, she mussed up her hair, grabbed a conveniently-placed, oversized white men’s oxford shirt that covered her ass (which is horse crap because every self-respecting New York man right now is wearing slim-cut EVERYTHING and would not have a shirt that could also double as a tent hanging in his bathroom) and went back out.

She lamely sang the tired, breathy Happy Birthday Mr. President to him while crawling on his lap.

Then she leaves in a fit of forthrightness and disgust. For him, I guess, not for the fact that she put on the oversized shirt and crawled on his lap.

They can do better than this. No, NBC is not Showtime (where the show was originally set up and which would have allowed the episodes to be longer and, presumably, sexier) but that just means they have to be more creative. Let’s not hit on every last trope in the playbook, shall we?

But all is not lost. No, there is potential here. Especially if they corrupt Karen (well-played by McPhee) and don’t allow her to remain the wide-eyed ingenue past the second or third episode. I can practically hear the drums beating in the background on this one.

And the best parts are, thankfully, the singing parts. The ending scene to last night’s episode, which shows the two rivals, Karen and Ivy, getting ready for call-backs for the part of Marilyn was done to the song “Let Me Be Your Star” and it was great. It captured that competitive, the-claws-are-out feeling we need to feel in order to invest in this story.

I’m not buying my Smash t-shirt quite yet, but I’ll be back for episode 2.

The Wednesday Outlook: January 25

The photo of the week is of our cat, Jones, sitting on the back of the couch looking either sleepy or pissed. Not sure which. It really can go either way with him.

Our cat Jones sitting on the back of the couch.

The Outlook

Recently, I discovered running at the Metrodome in Minneapolis on Tuesday and Thursday nights. Yes, that beleaguered building is at least good for providing exercise to runners too cheap to join a gym. Besides, it’s much better, if you need to run inside, to have a circumference like that of the Dome’s instead of a smaller track.

At the Dome, if one runs along the outer edge, 2 laps around equals roughly 1 mile. At the gym I used to belong to, it was something like 10-12 laps per mile.

Running is supposed to be a somewhat zen activity. The rhythm of the running helps you leave your worries behind. Or maybe it’s that you don’t have time to think when you’re trying to breathe. The Dome’s repetitious scenery helps this along – soon enough you’re lost in the loop of identical beer stands, doorways, DiGiorno pizza stands, etc. You have to stay somewhat alert to note a return to your starting point and tick off another lap.

But, at least for me, running in a group of other runners makes it harder to think, well, nothing. I simply trade my worries for thoughts about the people running with me. I wonder a lot about them as I run. I divide them into categories. When I forgot my iPod the other night I was reduced to eavesdropping on their conversations.

I have uncharitable thoughts. Here are some:

  • I wonder if the guy who has the tattoo on the back of his calf of a man lifting a barbell over his head will one day regret it. Sure, that calf is nice and taut right now, making the weightlifter look appropriately muscled. But what if one day this man can no longer run? Or get much exercise? It would be sad to see the deflated weightlifter, a shell of his former self on a deflated calf.
  • I don’t like pairs of young women who plan weddings as they run. If this makes me a horrible, old bitch, well… guilty. I don’t want to hear, as they glide effortlessly past me, about how one’s thoughtless aunt said she should have her wedding in her hometown so that more family could attend. I don’t want to hear about party favors and fish vs. chicken vs. beef.
  • There are people for whom running is their entire lives. They even have “running crushes.” I heard a woman say, “Well, he was my first running crush.” She was very thin and had ropey calves. Her calves looked like Madonna’s arms.
  • I don’t believe in barefoot running unless one is at the beach. I don’t believe in barefoot running at the Dome. I don’t like the way Barefoot Runner Woman’s feet slap the ground, pounding away any arches she once had. The look on her face scares me. She’s in a place where the rest of us can’t follow.
  • While I’m running and thinking bad thoughts about Barefoot Runner Woman I start to think about Paula Deen. No, Paula Deen was not running at the Dome. But I found myself wishing that one of her legs would have to be removed due to gangrene from mismanaging her recently-announced diabetes. As I said, these are uncharitable thoughts that float up from nowhere, maybe due to the fact that running in a circle, even a very large circle, can get boring. I’m more than a bit annoyed that the woman who urged people to eat things like hamburgers on doughnuts now reveals she has diabetes and will profit from it due to a deal with Novo Nordisk, a drug manufacturer. Fuck you, Paula Deen.
  • There is an older man, with sliver hair, who is always running at the Dome. He runs without his shirt. He looks great for his age, for any age. But I wonder about people who need that kind of attention; who simply cannot run with a shirt on even at the Dome. I wonder how much better a runner I’d have to be, and how much trimmer, before I would dare run in a sports bra and no t-shirt. For no particular reason, I think of Roger Sterling from Mad Men every time he laps me.
  • A woman was jogging and talking on her cell phone at the same time. Not even exercise is a reason to “unplug” anymore. I think that’s sad. I don’t want to talk to anyone on the phone while I run. How would they understand me? Why would I care what they have to say? Unless they are calling to tell me I’ve come into a lot of money, I have no reason to talk to them. This woman who was running and talking on the phone… let’s just say she was not fit. She was heavy and she had to put a lot of effort into the entire thing, just to keep going. As I moved past her she gave up the running part, deciding that the conversation was more important.
  • A lot of people talk about work as they run and a lot of people have very boring work. And they are worried about very boring things at work. It sort of drives home the point to me that, unless you are a stuntman, I don’t want to hear the details of your work.

Running at the Dome continues until the end of March and then, presumably, we will all be set free on the streets and trails again for another season.

The Round-Up

Reading – The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2011; some amazing work in this volume and I’m only halfway through. Also, guiltily finished Beauty Disrupted by Carre Otis last night. Skimmed the last 50 pages when she was working on her Buddhism and having kids. The bottom line, at least in my mind, is that getting only a 9th grade education can really put a hamper on your options in life. I mean, hooray for you if you can be a model but that doesn’t mean you’re going to make good decisions. Oh, and Mickey Rourke is an asshole. But we knew that, right?

Watching The Last Days of Disco (1998). After I got through watching this I was like, “OK, why didn’t anyone ever tell me about this movie?” For a few minutes, I was actually pissed. Then I realized that it was silly. Because no one can be your pop culture mentor. What I mean is, I really loved this film and wondered why it took me over then years to find it.

I’ve now seen all three of Whit Stillman’s movies, having watched Barcelona over the weekend when it was shitty and cold and I didn’t want to leave the house. Once you get into the rhythm of Stillman’s humor and sarcasm, it’s terrific. Of his three films, Last Days of Disco is definitely the best. I said this in an earlier post, but he finally has another movie coming out this year and I am greatly anticipating it.

Anticipating: I never thought I’d say this, but I want to go to Arkansas. The reason? I must see the new Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art. Yeah, the one built by the Walmart heiress. I’ve done a lot of reading about this, and seen some stories on TV and I think, yeah, I want to go. The combination of art and nature at that spot would be highly enjoyable. Zen-like, even.

 

 

 

My Precious Impressions of the Oscar Nominations

Uggie, the dog from the film The Artist, wearing a bowtie on the red carpet..Here is one major decision I came to this morning while watching the Oscar nominations. For the Oscars, I must craft a bowtie for my dog to wear around her neck, much like the bowtie Uggie, the dog from The Artist wears when he wants to look a bit more dressy while making public appearances. I can get away with this because my dog, while female, is not what you would call dainty or feminine.

The bitch is kinda butch, is what I’m trying to say.

That heavy decision out of the way, I can focus on the nominations.

Best Supporting Actress – I’m all for Melissa McCarthy winning this one for Bridesmaids. It’s time for the Academy to recognize comedy as a legitimate art form. You don’t have don a prosthetic and weep/drown/or kill someone in order to deserve recognition. It’s much harder to make people laugh.

Berenice Bejo, while beautiful and peppy in The Artist (in fact, her character’s name is Peppy), didn’t have to speak. I’m just saying.

Octavia Spencer was very good in The Help but I fear  her performance won’t hold up over time. I fear that the entire The Help phenom might make us either wince or shrug in 2020. Many movies dealing with race relations feel instantly dated. Have you tried watching Dangerous Minds lately?

Best Supporting Actor – I’m placing my bet on Christopher Plummer. OK, it’s because he’s super cool more than because of his performance. But it seems fair that I support him because Beginners is the only movie I’ve seen in this category (the others being My Week With Marilyn, Warrior, Moneyball and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close).

Watch this profile of Christopher Plummer on CBS Sunday Morning and you’ll probably love him, too.

Note: What the hell is Warrior? When they first read this on TV, I thought they were referring to The Warriors, which would have been more interesting except Nick Nolte wasn’t in that.

Also, Nick Nolte seems to be back amongst the living. No more drunken arrests complete with crazy hair in the near future. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Note: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close was panned by almost all the critics. And yet it got the nod for Best Picture. Why? It’s Tom Hanks. There are a few things that equal nominations no matter what. Here is a brief list:

  • Famous actress donning a prosthetic that makes her ugly. Everyone knows this.
  • Anything Tom Hanks does, is in, produces, mentions that he likes. Exception: Larry Crowne
  • Double the above rule if it’s something with Tom Hanks or sanctioned by Tom Hanks that involves WWII.
  • Dames Mirren or Dench. You want awards? Hire a Dame.
  • Most bio pics. This year’s heavily-awarded biopic that no one saw is My Week With Marilyn.

Best Actress – We’re not going to have any democracy in this category until Meryl Streep is either too infirm to leave her house or dead. I wonder if it’s not just a little bit embarrassing for her at this point. If she voiced a raccoon dying of mange in a Pixar movie, she would get a nomination. “Oh, Meryl, that inflection you gave Rita Raccoon! Unbelievable! For the first time I felt as if I knew what it would be like to have mites.”

It is my dream, and I know this makes me an awful and petty person, that, upon her death, one of her daughters will publish a Mommy Dearest-style memoir and we as a nation will be shocked and chagrined. And then there will be a biopic made from the memoir and the actress portraying her – Anne Hathaway with a dye job? – will win an Oscar.

I don’t know what to do with this category. Besides Streep for The Iron Lady, there’s Viola Davis for The Help, Michelle Williams for that Marilyn movie, Glenn Close for the disturbing Albert Nobbs (the trailer sure made it look like some funny business goes on between Close and Mia Wasikowska but not in a fun, lesbian kind of way), and Rooney Mara for The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo.

Best Actor – I’m going with The Cloon. I saw three out of the five films in this category and I think George Clooney turned in a fine performance in The Descendants. Is it life-altering? No, but none of the performances I saw are. I like Jean Dujardin’s expressive eyebrows as much as the next gal, but I don’t think his performance in The Artist is Oscar-worthy. Maybe the two foreign guys in this category – Dujardin and Bichir, cancel each other out – because we’re in a Theodore Roosevelt-inspired, jingoistic mood. Then Gary Oldman goes out because it’s determined that his glasses and trench coat did the bulk of the heavy lifting and Brad Pitt… well, I heard he’s busy dealing with a severed head.

Best Director – Of the two people I know who actually saw Tree of Life, neither one had anything good to say about it. Perhaps Malick is nominated in this category because it took him so long to make this movie and people feel bad about that. “This took you how long? Oh. Well, bravo. Here’s a… statue.

This is one film I will have to try to see before the awards though, so that I can keep putting it down but in a more intelligent manner.

For me, this category is between Woody Allen for Midnight in Paris and Alexander Payne for The Descendants.

Best Original Screenplay – I’m waiting until I have more information on this one – there are two films I still need to see in this category, which I take ridiculously seriously. In a contest that has no bearing on my everyday life, this category means more to me than the price of a gallon of gas and maybe more than who is going to get the Republican Presidential nomination, although in that contest I’m rooting for Gingrich because it will be more fun for all of us.

The nominees are Michel Hazanavicius for The Artist, Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumolo for Bridesmaids, J.C. Chandor for Margin Call, Woody Allen for Midnight in Paris and Asgar Farhadi for A Separation.

Best Adapted Screenplay – Alexander Payne, Nat Faxon and Jim Rash for The Descendants.

Best Picture – They could have nominated 10 films in this category but, for giggles, they nominated nine. Those tricky Academy members! By the way, I know of two people who are actually in the Academy and they have awful taste and the film projects they’ve been involved with are shit, so it raises the question of whether we should put any stock in Academy members’ opinions in the first place, but then again it’s not just one or two votes that matter, it’s the aggregate, so in that sense it’s like the popular vote in the Presidential race.

I guess.

The nominees are The Artist, War Horse, Moneyball, The Descendants, Tree of Life, Midnight in Paris, The Help, Hugo and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.

I’m going with The Descendants because it’s got it all – Clooney, Payne, Hawaii, the other Bridges brother, some laughs, some tears. What more do you want from a movie?

Or it could be Midnight in Paris, just for Corey Stoll’s portrayal of Ernest Hemingway alone.

Apartment Hunting, 1999

I came across some notes I made in 1999, when I was still fairly new to Minneapolis and looking for an apartment to live in on my own. I’d spent the first 6 months in town living with my sister and brother-in-law, and patience on all of our parts was wearing thin, so I was looking for some Single Gal Freedom.

Here is a transcript of my notes. If you live at any of the addresses I insult below, I’m sorry you have to live in such a terrible place.

Oh, I almost forgot a very important detail. These notes are in a spiral-bound notebook with a black-and-white photo of a cat on the front. Well, rather than describing it, I’ll show it to you:

The only thing worse than using this notebook then is that I recently found it in a drawer, realized it had a lot of paper left  in it and started using it again.

The notes:

$10 month/cat [Note: I had a cat named Ella. A very bad cat.]
$30 application fee
$510 security dep. (one month rent)
Alarm systems installed.
Grand Lake Apt.

[Note: Interestingly enough, I drove by this building with my sister and she forbade me to actually look at the apartment, declaring it unfit for a single woman living alone. She meant that it seemed sketchy. About eight years later some friends of ours moved in to this same building and my husband helped them move a piano up two flights of stairs. They did not seem to be aware that people are in the business of moving musical instruments of this size professionally.]

2 1/2 story, 10 unit    $460
1828 Columbus Ave S
All-brick building
Secured entrance
Extra large 800 sq. feet
Maple floors
3 arched openings, 2 china hutches
panel mahogany doors
floor to ceiling
shower (!!?)
cable

[Note from 2012 self: when can I move in?]

Grand Avenue 1 block
323 W 31st Street
1/2 mile to Lake Calhoun [might as well be 20 miles]
$700 1BR
20x
shower
$510
sewer, water, trash, heat, laundry

[Yes, again with this apartment. I don’t know why it is written down twice. It must have been like forbidden fruit to me.]

3404 Emerson $500 MAYBE
3236 Garfield $559 NASTY
2621 Pleasant $535 BRICK BUILDING NOT BAD

2621 Pillsbury *** OK
19xx Ridgewood Ave South $550 ADDRESS??? COULDN’T FIND
Aldrich & Franklin 1 BR $475 NO SHOWER
James & 31st small 1 BR NICE STREET/HOUSES/LAKE

Final note: I did not live in any of these places. No, I opted to move into an apartment directly above Bryant Lake Bowl. Yes, this was a huge mistake. Yes, I thought I was being incredibly urban and hip.

I may be urban (but the older I get the more I suspect I’m not; I was raised in the country and it seems that, at some point, I will make my return) but I have never been hip.

To give you an idea of my lameness: there was a video store on the corner of Lake & Bryant at the time, which I  also lived directly above. I rented videos there. I would have to pass their door everyday in order to go anywhere and yet I racked up so steep a late fee on rented videos that I was no longer able to rent there unless I paid it off. I felt I could not afford to do so. I was no longer able to rent videos at the store right beneath me.

This was before Netflix.

The Wednesday Outlook: January 18

A photo I found recently at an antique mall:

A mother and daughter pose by a car with a bike on the back of it.

I hit the photo jackpot the other day, finding an entire basket of color photos from various people’s albums. Color photos are harder to come across than black and white photos. I think this is because the black and white photos have probably reached the stage now where no one is left to claim a lot of them and they got released out into the world.

The back of this photo says:

Boogie off to college (admittedly, the first word might not be “boogie” at all but something else – it’s tough writing to read) with Mom’s car for 1 week. Her bike was our grad present. I was sad seeing #7 leave. xxx Peg

The time goes quickly, Peg. One minute you’re seeing your daughter off to college, the next minute your photo is in the hands of some weird woman in Minnesota.

Sweet grad present, though. I approve.

I’ll be sharing more photos soon.

This week I’ve been thinking of words and phrases I’m considering using more in daily speech. Here’s what I have so far:

  • “Better than pushing broom.” A statement to use when someone is complaining about something work-related. Example: “I hate having to sit in these meetings all afternoon.” “Hey, better than pushing broom.” I think this could get annoying pretty quickly though, if you’re the person always saying this. Especially if you don’t ever have to push broom yourself.
  • “Why you gotta front?” Reviving this from the 90’s, when Wheezer asked this question with great aplomb. I still think it has relevance today. Maybe more so. I’d like to go on Facebook and put under a lot of “stories,” this exact question. “Why you gotta front? We know your life ain’t that great.”
  • “Don’t just sit there biting your beard.” A good put-down to hipster guys, especially, but not limited to, those who live in Williamsburg. Means – don’t just sit there, judging, but doing nothing.
  • Rinky dink. Saying something is rinky dink is still, to me, an exact and devastating putdown. No one wants to be accused of being small time. Right up there as dismissing someone as boring.
  • Hatchet job. I find a lot of delight in saying someone did a hatchet job on something or someone.
  • Jinking. I learned this word by looking over Keith’s shoulder while we were on a plane and he was reading a Tom Clancy “novel.” That’s his thing – he reads Tom Clancy when he flies. I no longer question. Well, I do when I look over and see the word “jinking,” which apparently describes something a plane does. Shaking? Listing to starboard? I’m not sure. But it’s fun to say and can describe any number of movements. Works well with cats.
  • Escape-uate. This is Keith’s but I like it. “Let’s escape-uate.” A cross between “escape” and “evacuate.” To use when a situation or place is bad news.

The Weekly Round-up

Reading: OK, so I’m reading The Puppy Diaries by Jill Abramson of the New York Times. And loving it. I remember so much about my own days as  frustrated human with puppy. It’s a very fast read. Also reading Best Nonrequired Reading 2011.

Watching: I tried to watch, in all earnestness, Uncle Sam Magoo, a cartoon from 1970.

Poster for Uncle Sam Magoo cartoon from 1970.It is supposed to be about… I guess the history of America. It is beyond terrible. As in, you start out laughing, thinking it’s going to be a great time, and end up stewing about everything that’s wrong with this country. First it glosses over our entire history with American Indians, high- kicks its way through the Revolutionary War and then reverts to a song and drawings to “Illustrate” the Civil War, with no mention of slavery at all.

Keith and I decided the only way one could possibly enjoy it was if one were high on nutmeg.

Also, along with the rest of America, watching Downton Abbey.

Doing: I’m on page 150 of the second draft of my book. I do five pages a day because that is all I can stand. One day I did 8 pages. That was a major day. It is hard work. And lonely. But sometimes I make myself laugh out loud. I have no idea why I’m writing short sentences as if I’m Hemingway.

Anticipating going to seeing the performanc of  Dirty Girls Come Clean, by Freshwater Theatre, in Northeast Minneapolis (Nimbus Theater) on Friday night. Should be fun. Karaoke party afterwards!

 

The Wednesday Outlook: January 11

The painting Santos Dumont - The Father of Aviation II by Kehinde Wiley.

This is one of my favorite works of art at The Minneapolis Institute of Arts. It’s “Santos Dumont – The Father of Aviation II,” 2009, by Kehinde Wiley. Until recently it hung in the Baroque Gallery among other works depicting the go-to subject matter of the Old Masters – religious figures and scenes. It was stunning to see “Santos Dumont” side-by-side with these paintings because the poses of the two figures evoke that of religious paintings from times gone by and yet it’s a thoroughly modern painting in tone.

I enjoy going to the Minneapolis Institute of Arts because it’s a place to unplug. You wander about, looking at art and making what you will of it. No need to Facebook it or tweet about it.

I’ve been thinking about Twitter a lot lately. The thing about Twitter is that it is such an ephemeral medium until the moment you die. Then, if you are a Twitter user,  it can suddenly define you. Your last tweet encapsulates you. It’s your last message to the world and, sort of, what you stood for.

This scares me a lot. It could go horribly wrong. What if your last tweet was something like:

Ya first Tatt …Oooweee #unforgettablefeelings

or

Hey 🙂 who has a science exam tommorrow?? I do and im gonna fail!!!!

You know who got lucky with this? Heavy D. His last tweet, before dying of a blood clot, was “Be Inspired!” I believe that the “I” was indeed capitalized. Be Inspired. How inspirational! And so we remember him as an artist, as someone who broke through boundaries and enriched our lives with “Now That We Found Love.”

His last tweet could have easily been something like, “H8 waiting in line at Arby’s.”

Then what would we have thought?

Other famous last tweets include:

  • “Green” by Dan Wheldon, the Indy 500 champ who died in a wreck
  • “My interview in Bazaar with Kim Kardashian came out!!” by Elizabeth Taylor
  • A photo of himself drinking with friends tweeted by Ryan Dunn from Jackass just hours before dying in an auto wreck.
  • “… Stuck in the plane on the runway. You can always count on US Air.” by Billy Mays, the infomercial king, after the tires of the plane he was on blew out during landing. Cause of death was heart disease (the silent killer).
  • “oinka oinka oinka why you awake” on Amy Winehouse’s official Twitter feed. True fans are quick to point out that it was NOT her personal account. Still, baffling.

What to do about this? Treat every tweet as if it could be your last? You see people on Twitter taking this approach with their goodness. Their tweets are things like, “Good Morning Twitter Friends!!! What can I help you with today??” One imagines them sliding into their chair with a headset on, like a customer service representative.

Or they spend their time diligently pounding out tweets that are quotes from Gandhi or the Buddha or even Mark Twain.

While I can’t imagine becoming a Twitter Do-Gooder, my tweets are far from what I’d like to be my lasting legacy. Let’s take a look at some of my recent activity:

  • James Cameron is like, “Yeah, I can do anything I want. Anything at all. So I’m going to spend my time making this old movie of mine 3D.”
  • Walgreens called me while I was in Walgreens. Whoa.
  • “Disappointment is a beautiful woman reading Ayn Rand.” From the short story “A Bridge Under Water” by Tom Bissell. Two thumbs waaaaay up.
  • Hey, MN friends. I’m looking outside and I can see. It is not dark out. It is 4:57. We will win this
  • Here’s something that’s not boring: Handmade Ryan Gosling. bit.ly/txiHlB
  • I agree with my sister, the phrase “skill set” has to go in 2012. If you define yourself by one “set” of “skills,” you are boring.

Actually, while a single tweet could be embarrassing when trying to sum up a life, it turns out that a decent eulogy could be written from just a handful of tweets. For example:

“Rebecca was a person charmed by the little things in life. Once, she got a call from Walgreen’s automated call system regarding her prescription while she was in Walgreens picking up said prescription. Her mind was blown! She was determined to make it through the harsh Minnesota winters, she found Ryan Gosling and crafting to be two things that made life worth living and she loved her sister. While she, like many of us, found the ways successful filmmakers like James Cameron choose to squander their time confusing, she took comfort in good short stories.”

Done and done. Note to my loved ones – feel free to use this should I die within the next few weeks or even months.

The Round-Up

Reading: Finished Just Kids by Patti Smith (Yes, it’s as great as everyone says it is) and Sleepwalk With Me by Mike Birbiglia (going to see him on Feb. 13th at the Guthrie Theater). Next up: a titillating memoir by Carre Otis (she of modeling, Mickey Rourke, heroin fame) called Beauty, Disrupted. I got this book from the library and I had to wait months, yes, months to get it. Shows you what people really want to read.

Watching: I just watched, for the first time, Metropolitan by Whit Stillman. It’s about some preppy college students who are home for Christmas break and making the rounds of the Christmas balls (I’m not sure this kind of thing actually happens anymore. The Christmas deb balls, I mean). Whit has definitely been one of my cultural blind spots. He’s custom-made for me and yet I was only marginally aware of his existence until a few weeks ago. I think this is what keeps art and culture exciting – who’s out there that you don’t know about yet?

I really liked this film, once I got used the stiff line delivery. In some ways it felt like a play.  I need to watch it a second time, now that I’ve got the hang of it. I put his other two films, The Last Days of Disco and Barcelona on my Netflix queue. Well, Barcelona is available for streaming but not The Last Days of Disco because that would make it much too easy on me. Metropolitan is available for streaming, then Disco is not and Barcelona is.

Just to make it tough for you to see the man’s entire 3-film catalog.

Then I found out that he has a new film (his last one came out in 1998), which will screen at Sundance (or I may have just made that up) and will be released in April. It’s called Damsels in Distress. So look out for that if you’re a Stillman fan. Or quick watch his other three films and become a fan. Become superfan, if you want.

Listening: I believe Tom Petty is having a moment with me right now. Also, the Elvis song “It’s Now or Never.” And Red Hot Chili Peppers. I’m stuck in the past, people.

 

* The Wednesday Outlook is a weekly feature on Not Shallow. In the past, it became something of a “hit-or-miss” affair but in 2012 it will make a strong resurgence. It generally features a photo that has nothing to do with anything else tin the post, a mini-essay and a round-up of what I’m reading, watching, listening to, doing, going to do or eating. Past Wednesday Outlooks may be found here if you’ve got the time and inclination.

More Hot Tub People (+ Some Sauna People)

Impromptu Date

A couple having a date in a hot tub.

“That was great. But I guess I should get around to actually fixing your cable. I’ve got other people waiting for me to show up between 1 and 6 p.m.”

“Can I interest you in a tempeh sandwich before you go?”

The Making of A Weirdo

Family sitting in hot tub.

“See, Sequoia, what your mom and I are doing here is a grand experiment. You’re either going to be an interesting person with a great sense of humor who finds her own path in life or a real fuck-up. But either way, you’re not going to like to have to wear clothes.”

Deep Thoughts

Woman thinking deep thoughts in a hot tub.

“Yeah, I think I could make it  in hip hop, if I really put my mind to it. There has to be room for a sensitive lady poet in the scene.”

Rock Lobster

Man and woman on a deck with a hot tub.

Woman: “Just another pinch of salt… This is going to be a lobster boil the likes of which Kennebunkport has never seen!”

Man: “Do I have to change out of my mini-robe before people show up?”

The Path To Womanhood

Three girls sitting in a sauna.

“No, it’s true. Whoever drinks a ladle-full of this sauna water will finally get her period. I swear.”

The Path to Manhood

Two men hanging out in a sauna.

“No, it’s true. Whoever drinks a ladle-full of this sauna water turns gay for the afternoon. You should try it. Things could get interesting. I don’t know about you but I’m getting mighty hot in this towel.”

Torture

A family on a deck.

Man: “I told them they can’t come out until they renounce the teachings of Justin Bieber. That was three days ago. But that’s fine – I’ve got nothing but time.”

For Fans of “Lost”

Hot tub that looks like it's in the middle of a jungle.

Man: “Say what you will about the Dharma Initiative, they sure know how to build a hot tub.”

Woman: “I’m so over trying to build that raft. Want to see what the Others are up to tonight?”

Hot Tub People

Solitude

Woman reading in hot tub built for one.

“I can’t believe Mom used to use this for the geraniums.”

OR

“Tomorrow I go over the Falls and prove everyone wrong.”

Lame Party

Lame party where one woman is in hot tub by herself while others stand around.

Lady In Hot Tub: Guys, the invitation said, ‘Bring your suit for hot tubbing!’

Man In Rainbow Shirt: No, it said ‘Wear your high-waisted jeans!’

Staff Meeting

Man sitting in hot tub conducting staff meeting.

“So, please have the report on the edge of the hot tub by tomorrow morning. Here’s what I’ve been working on – I think the deck needs some more foliage. Not around it but on it. So I’m doing a Power Point for that. And then I have some phone calls to make. Are you sure you don’t want to strip down and hop in here? No? Well, next week we should at least have coffee and bagels. Otherwise it doesn’t feel like a real staff meeting.”

Safety Sauna

man sitting in sauna talking to woman in hot tub

“Dr. Phillips said that whenever I don’t feel safe, I should put my robe on and go sit by myself for awhile. So that’s what I’m doing.”

“Don’t be silly, David, it’s just me. Come out of the sauna.”

“No. You’re the devil.”

Jealous?

Women in knitwear stare at each other over spa bath.

“Monica, you think you’re better than me, but once we’re both in our floor-length knitwear, we’re equals.”

“How long are you going to stand there, blabbing? I’d like to take my bath.”

“Well… OK… I was hoping to see your boobs but…”

“Trust me, they’re better than yours.”

“OK. I’m just going to go into the sauna and turn it up to 1500 degrees.”

Bobbing

Two women in a hot tub playing Dominoes.

“Oh, Helen, this is as wonderful as you said it would be. Except you know I can’t play Dominoes ever since I lost my arms in that whirlpool accident.”

The Hip Hop Shop

Saw this while driving in Florida, not too far from New Smyrna Beach, over the holidays. The store selling these fancy togs was called HIP HOP SHOP and it was in the same building as a gas station.

When we pulled into the gas station I had a straight-on shot of the mannequins; by the time I got out of the car a pick-up had pulled in and blocked the direct shot. The owner of the pick-up was inside the store talking about guns with the clerk. My brother-in-law overheard their convo while waiting in line to buy some Funyuns.

BTW, thumbs up to New Smyrna Beach!

These Are The Breaks

It’s finally 2012. I spent the first day of it acting on my resolution to stay current on celebrity news. I was woefully behind and so spent much of the day exclaiming, “Wow, when did that happen?”

One takeaway I wanted to share, in case you are also terribly out-of-touch with celebrity happenings, is that there were a lot of divorces in 2011. Celebrities just can’t seem to stay together. I’m not just talking about Kim Kardashian and Kris Humphries here. Even I knew they would not last. He seems like a gentle but ignorant giant who makes decisions based only upon the information immediately in front of him – mostly provided by the five senses -  and his current state of mind.

“Ball. Throw through hoop.”
“Pretty, tiny girl. Marry.”
“Cute kitten not moving after I pet. Bury.”

How could he ever hope to keep up with someone as shrewd as Kim?

But now comes word that Katy Perry and Russell Brand are breaking up. But what about the wackiness? The Indian wedding. The Bookie Wooks and the fireworks. It lasted a little over a year and for most of that time she was out on tour. Shouldn’t they take a moment and try being bored together? Sit around for a night watching TV and flipping through magazines? Maybe turn to each other at some point and ask if they should order a pizza or get Thai food?

I also learned that Debra Messing and the person she was married to – an actor named Daniel Zelman – are getting divorced. Something happened to Debra Messing after the birth of her son… Suddenly I noticed that her hair wasn’t as thick as it had been. It was no longer the proud mane that starred on Will & Grace was a diminished bit player. I thought, “That’s it for Debra Messing,” and it kind of worked out that way, although I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t sickly intrigued by the show premiering this month, Smash, in which she plays some kind of agent or talent scout or something who wears glasses when she’s trying to be serious. You don’t have to have thick hair for that.

Also, Chaz Bono and Jennifer Elia are breaking up. Jennifer made it through more than most of us would have. It’s not easy having your partner appear on Dancing With the Stars and have to be supportive of that effort each week, acting as if you care how his knee/toe/hamstring/back is holding up. Chaz didn’t just undergo a sex change – he went the extra mile and changed into a just-past-middle-aged man with knee problems who likes to recount his glory days on the racquetball court.

I admit to doing zero research on this, but has Chaz Bono ever had a job? He should definitely get one now and it should be in middle management for an insurance company because he already looks the part.

Vanessa Bryant is leaving Kobe Bryant. He must have run out of the magic potion he’s been feeding her all these years. She woke up from her haze and was like, “Wait… What?” What I learned, via People Magazine, is that she was 19 when she married him. I’m not even sure that the soft spots on her skull had fully hardened. They had a baby, then they moved right into the rape scandal, he gave her that enormous Guilt Ring (the kind of ring you only get if you’re Elizabeth Taylor or your guy is trying to say, “Sorry I raped that girl.”), had another baby and then it was just endless days of being married to Kobe Bryant.

I know this one is not news, but J. Lo and Marc Anthony are splitsville. Ah, shit. I’ve been assured that the clothing line for Kohl’s is not in jeopardy.

I don’t want to be a braggart, but I could see this one coming. On New Year’s Eve 2010, they appeared together on Ryan Seacrest & Dick Clark Present Tales From the New Year’s Eve Crypt and it was obvious that the relationship was running out of gas. Marc looked bored. J. Lo was in full body suit, strutting around, and he stifled a yawn.

Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, remember when J. Lo did a triathlon the same year she had twins? She went crazy that day – she did the tri in Malibu, then immediately flew to New York to celebrate Marc’s 40th birthday with an elaborate party at a club, all with a rigor mortis grin on her face.

That says, “Trying too hard,” to me. If you’re secure in your marriage you do your tri and then hang out after the race with everyone else, talking about how much the transition from the swim to the bike sucked. You don’t go all maniac and get on a plane for a big party in NYC. She may as well have released a statement  that said:

“If I keep fantastically busy I will never notice that my marriage is a sham. Also, I will never die. And I still love Ben Affleck. Thank you.”

Also not really news: Demi and Ashton are done. I feel as if I can finally let out a sigh of relief, air I originally sucked into my lungs in shock, not over their marriage in 2005, but when I saw them dressed up as babies for a Kabbalah party.

“This must end,” I said.

By the way, I can’t believe they thought a camping trip would bring them back together. They looked miserable and bored in their camp chairs (“Yeah, that’s how camping works,” I want to tell them. “There’s not really that much to do except drink and burn sticks.”) Look, if I were trying to lure someone back, I would not do it by camping with them where there is zero sexy lighting, no hot tubs and a lot of bugs.

You can cross one worry off your list going into the new year: the Mel Gibson/Robin Gibson divorce is final. She’s getting about $400 million and news outlets are talking about the settlement as if it’s his money and she’s taking it. As if having 7 kids with that guy and being married for 30 years wasn’t work. I know, it was a choice she made, but still… I think she’s entitled to some compensation.

I’m not sure what prompted Robert Downey Jr. to make a statement a few months ago telling Hollywood it’s time to forgive Mel for being a drunk, abusive prick. I guess Downey feels that he was once at that low point, too, but look at him now, making franchise movies, taking vitamins and having children! Here is what Downey said:

“This is my f*ckin’ time… Mel and I have the same lawyer, same publicist and same shrink. I couldn’t get hired and he cast me. He said if I accepted responsibility – he called it hugging the cactus – long enough my life would take meaning and if he helped me I would help the next guy. But it was not reasonable to assume the next guy would be him.

Unless you are without sin, and if you are you are in the wrong industry, you should forgive him and let him work.”

Let him work? Well, what was The Beaver all about? Personally, I don’t think Gibson has hugged the cactus nearly long enough. Here, Mel, here’s a shot of tequila. Now get back up on that cross… I mean cactus.

As far as Downey goes, the thing about drug addicts and alcoholics who turn their lives around – they can become very annoying in their certainty that they now have all the answers and all the compassion. They definitely become more annoying (and less entertaining) than when they were high and stumbling into the wrong houses at night.

But, returning to the topic at hand, it’s not all doom and gloom for celebrity relationships!  Britney Spears is getting married again despite the fact that her eyes are clearly not the same size. Matthew McConaughey is marrying the mother of his two kids (I wonder what the decision-making process was for that one? I’m imagining him opening a beer, taking a swig and then thinking, “Ah, what the hell, why not?”)

And Rosie O’Donnell has a fiancee who is cute and normal-seeming. How does that happen? Rosie, a woman who can’t be bothered to put on a dab of foundation or the merest hint of lip gloss in order to attend a Broadway show, lands a hottie?

I know, she’s rich. But you do realize that the hottie has to sleep with Rosie at some point, don’t you?

And, in the final piece of good news, the Hollywood Beard Marriages seem to be doing just fine. All quiet on the Western front for TomKat and John Travolta/Kelly Preston. And I believe Ryan Seacrest just settled Dick Clark back into the crypt for another year and is back with Julianne Hough, although he told her he’s tired and just wants to cuddle, not do anything.

She understands.

2012: All I’ve Ever Dreamed Of

Christmas Snowman Peeps welcome in 2012.

Some of you, especially if you are not a dictator, probably loved 2011. Others of you, like me, might be looking back at it and thinking, “Meh.”

Either way, it’s time to move on. In this spirit, I’ve compiled a list of everything I can dream of and hope for in 2012.

David Lee Roth sings while wearing 1980s-style body suit.1. That David Lee Roth will get the recognition, and feel the love, that has been eluding him for the past… well… um… 20 years. I’ve thought about starting a foundation (initially funded through Kickstarter) dedicated to honoring him, a man unafraid of fuzzy boots long before Uggs were ever invented. DLR is a showman and we should be glad every day that he came into our lives.

However, should the foundation not come to fruition because, say, it does not reach the $1.2 million mark on Kickstarter (this is the amount needed to not only pay my salary, as Executive Director, but those of my staff, provide us with lunch everyday and the plane tickets and accommodations we need around the world to do our DLR evangelizing), I vow to keep a bit of Diamond Dave glory going each month in 2012. Maybe you will even see evidence of it on this blog.

2. The Year of The Tiny Present. There should be more tiny presents in elaborate tiny packages presented to loved ones throughout the year. Tiny as in much, much smaller than a breadbox. Must fit into a shoe box but better if it fits into a box meant for Band-Aids. A tiny present is a wonder to behold and makes the receiver feel joyous. I will give some. Will you?

3. Awaken to the fact that fashion, like much of our lives, is invented. It’s all invented. Made up. Reading Vogue is really no different than reading a novel. This is not to say that one can’t enjoy Vogue but just to say that one could read Vogue, a book of short stories or a graphic novel, all to the somewhat same effect.

The PG Tips Tea monkey from jolly old England.4. Enjoy tea. Shove over, coffee drinkers. I’m tired of being a second-class citizen. Recently, I saw a British TV commercial for McDonald’s. Once I got over my sadness that there are McDonald’s in Britain and that British people go to them, I was overjoyed to see that the man in the commercial came in from the rain and was greeted by a McDonald’s counter worker handing him a hot cup of tea. “Tea?” the clerk said. And the man looked grateful as he accepted the hot cup. Yes, I thought. YES!!!

I also came across this quote from Christopher Hitchens (R.I.P. in the gloriousness of nothingness, by the way):

“Next time you are in a Starbucks or its equivalent and want some tea, don’t be afraid to decline that hasty cup of hot water with added bag. It’s not what you asked for. Insist on seeing the tea put in first, and on making sure that the water is boiling. If there are murmurs or sighs from behind you, take the opportunity to spread the word. And try it at home, with loose tea and a strainer if you have the patience. Don’t trouble to thank me. Happy New Year.”

Well, that quote came from the essay “How To Make A Decent Cup of Tea,” a January 2011 article on Slate, and it is well-worth a read.

5. Celebrate old people. I’m tired of all these hipsters. Bring on the oldsters. In 2012, I will pay attention to the awesome old in people, places, clothing and culture and celebrate it. Go to bed early. Get up early. Wear that dress from 1975. But please don’t drive like an asshole.

Portrait of Erma Bombeck, American humorist.6. My second action to accomplish point # 5 will be to read as many of  Erma Bombeck’s books as I can. I will begin with At Wit’s End, work my way through If Life Is A Bowl of Cherries, What Am I Doing In the Pits? and round the bend with When You Look Like Your Passport Photo, It’s Time To Go Home. Never heard of Erma? She was an American humorist who wrote 15 books. You can learn more by visiting the online museum dedicated to her. And 2012 just happens to be a year in which they are holding the Erma Bombeck Writing Competition, which I will enter. I can write funny about life’s trials and tribulations. How about you?

7. Go dancing. I have a husband who does not enjoy dancing at all. I am OK with this. But I still wanna go dancing and look like the white, not-so-young-ish-anymore woman that I am out on the dance floor. I will not wear any of the bodysuits I owned in college but please tell me where the best 1990s dance party can be found in the Twin Cities.

8. Practice The Gambler’s Guide To Life: Know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em, know when to walk away and know when to run.  I’m working on all of this and it’s like learning to ride a bike for the first time. We could all, most of us, work on this. If you’re at your limit on something, fold instead of continuing to bet. Or run, depending on how bad it is. If you’ve got a good thing going, hold onto it. Why can’t we get this right more often?

9. Shout into the wind. Just about everything in my life in 2011 seemed to be either in flux, half-finished or in a state of disrepair, like a baby doll missing its limbs. Oh well. That’s life. Keep going. It’s fine!

No, really, it is.

So, yeah, I’ll be finishing my novel about a bus tour of Europe in 1981 and I’ll be finishing off another draft of my screenplay and I’ll somehow, someday get a job and then I’ll write a funny play about being unemployed. And I’ll keep blogging. And I’ll keep trying to be a runner. For no good reason other than, that’s life.

I hope you’ll join me.

Happy New Year. See you, Erma Bombeck book in hand, in 2012.

 

Xciting Xmas Gift Guide… Er… No… Something Better

I was going to come out with Part IV of my Xciting Xmas Gift Guide but today I decided no, I will not. It’s every human for themselves when it comes to gift decisions and procurement at this stage of the game – there are so many gift guides, sales, promotions, stores, etc., that surely people can manage to find something.

When in doubt, make a donation in someone’s name to the Human Fund. Done and done.

So let’s talk about Family Feud instead.

Richard Dawson hosting the game show Family Feud.

The other night I was cycling through my limited TV channel options (no cable) and I saw Steve Harvey hosting Family Feud. They finally got around to a black host! He seems to do an OK job for a game show host, although he’s not off the Danger List yet because of his book Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man: What Men Really Think About Love, Relationships, Intimacy and Commitment, which reduces women and men to easy cliches who all want, think, need the same things. Actually, I might make my book club read this.

The Family Feud moment I caught was Steve complaining about his wife scolding him for peeing on the toilet seat (clearly, in complaining about this, she was not thinking like a man). She admonished him with this rhyme:

“If you sprinkle while you tinkle, be a sweetie and lift the seatie.”

High hilarity, that. I think I saw that  on a dusty cross-stitch at a thrift store the other day.

But wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. How many hosts has this show had? It seems like 20 but the actual answer is six. Let’s start at the beginning of the Family Feud timeline with the host I grew up with (and will forever judge all other hosts against): Richard Dawson.

The King: Richard Dawson, 1975-1985 & 1994-1995

Richard Dawson was the coolest host of Family Feud ever.Richard Dawson is a Brit with a melodious voice and the wearer of sweet haircuts that rivals those of early 00’s George Clooney. You may, if you are old(ish) or just really into TV, recall that he was on Hogan’s Heroes, Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In and a year of The New Dick Van Dyke Show.

Question: Could someone with the last name Van Dyke make it in showbiz today?

Why was Dawson the best host of the Feud? Because he always seemed tipsy, jonesing for a smoke and completely uninterested in who actually won the game, preferring instead to concentrate on his real hobby: kissing the female contestants. When I was a girl watching Family Feud, I tried to imagine what Richard would smell like when he came in for the smooch – cigarettes, expensive cologne and maybe a bit like pastrami on rye.

Here is a round-up of the best things about him:

1. He ran away from home to join the Merchant Marine.
2. His early stage name was Dickie Dawson.
3. His first marriage was to a British sex symbol, back when people still said things like “sex symbol.”
4. In 1967, Dawson released a psychedelic 45 record – just two songs – and then never released any more music.
5. At one point he was on a show called Masquerade Party that also featured Nipsey Russell. Do you know Nipsey? He’s rad.
6. His love of kissing the ladies on Family Feud earned him the nickname The Kissing Bandit. I don’t believe any lawsuits were ever filed against him. It was a simpler, less litigious, time.
7. “On Dawson’s first show (on Feud) upon his return (1994)  he received a 25-second standing ovation when he walked on set.” Seriously. They timed that shit.

Dark Legacy: Ray Combs, 1988-1994

Ray Combs was the second host of Family Feud.Combs was a comedian who quit his job as a furniture salesperson in Ohio to move to Hollywood with his family and make it. He found work doing audience warm-ups for shows like The Golden Girls and Amen. He appeared on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson and got roles on sitcoms… he was a hard worker. Finally, he got the regular gig hosting the Family Feud reboot. However, by 1993 the rating for the show were on such a slide that the network decided to bring Dawson back in order to save the show and Combs was fired.

Can I just share with you this awesome anecdote about this?

“The taping of his final episode aired in first-run syndication on May 27, 1994. During the “Fast Money” bonus round, the five answers given by the second contestant each netted zero points. Ray joked, “You know, I’ve done this show for six years and this [is] the first time I had a person that actually got no points and I think it’s a damn fine way to go out. Thought I was a loser until you walked up here. You made me look like a man.” Then, instead of mingling with the two competing families at the end of the show, Combs walked off the set immediately after his sign-off.”

Here’s where it takes a dark turn: Combs never really recovered after the Feud. He had a car accident that messed up his spine, he had some comedy clubs that failed, he got divorced and he lost his house in Ohio. He became suicidal, was admitted to a psych ward for 72-hour observation but managed to kill himself by hanging himself in his closet with bed sheets.

Wow. Sorry for the downer. I’m going to take a short break.

The Caustic Clown: Louie Anderson, 1999-2002

Louie Anderson hosted Family Feud for several years.We all know Louie. Well, we do here in Minnesota because he’s from Minneapolis and we cling to our few celebrities here pretty tightly. See, we’re funny! We’re talented! Home to Louie Anderson and don’t forget those Coen Bros.

Louie is a stand-up comedian who had some runs at shows of his own – an animated series for Fox and then The Louie Show for CBS, which aired 6 times. But kudos to Louie for portraying someone from Duluth on national TV.

What stands out about Louie’s tenure on the Feud is contentiousness. First, he beat out Dolly Parton for the position and I think we as a nation would have benefited from a Dolly Parton-hosted Family Feud, so thanks, Louie, for robbing us of this opportunity. Next, he asked Richard Dawson to come on the show for the first episode and kind of, lay hands on him, or crown him as the new king  but Dawson refused.

Well-played, Dawson.

Finally, Louie got the boot and was replaced by Home Improvement star Richard Karn (yeah, that other guy from Home Improvement). On his way out, Louie said the show would not last, could not possibly go on without him, for more than a season. It did, and of course it would, because that’s life, Louie. Everyone is replaceable.

That Guy From Home Improvement: Richard Karn, 2002-2006

Richard Karn hosting Family Feud.Maybe the coolest thing about Richard Karn is that he found out about the casting call for Home Improvement while at traffic school for a ticket he received. This seems to be right up there with sitting at the soda fountain at the drug store and being discovered by an agent. We do like our Hollywood Lore, after all.

He was a guest star on the pilot episode of the show and then became a regular.

And that about sums up the coolness factor of Richard Karn. After he was replaced on Feud, he went on to host a game show called Bingo America.

I think our examination of Karn is complete.

J. Peterman 4-Evah: John O’Hurley, 2006-2010

John O'Hurley hosting Family Feud.No matter what crappy show John O’Hurley might show up on for the rest of his professional life, he gets a pass because he played J. Peterman on Seinfeld. For example, he could host Bingo America and be known as The Beloved Host of Bingo America. In fact, I can do better than that and give you a real-life example – he was on Dancing With the Stars but that shit rolls right off him, like hurling turds at a Teflon wall.

But what really gives this guy cred is his love of dogs. Dude loves dogs and hosts The National Dog Show on Thanksgiving every year.

Also, in 2001 he financed the relaunch of the real J. Peterman Company and became part owner. How much does that kick ass? Go take a look at their clothing  here and pick up something for that upcoming safari.

Pretender To the Throne: Steve Harvey, 2010-present

Steve Harvey hosting Family Feud.I tried to like Steve Harvey at one point in my life, specifically after seeing the movie The Original Kings of Comedy. He’s a stand-up comedian and he can command a stage, which is really what the Feud needs. It needs to be led, damn it!  But after reading the following, I can’t throw  my full weight behind Steve, although I’d rather wish him luck as the host of Family Feud than, say, U.S. Senator or even a science teacher.

From Wikipedia:

On March 27, 2009, Harvey appeared on an episode of  The Tyra Show with Tyra Banks to promote his book Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man. During the course of the interview, Harvey advised that women should not date atheists, saying: ‘You sitting up there talking to a dude and he tells you he’s an atheist, you need to pack it up and go home. You talking to a person who don’t believe in God . . . what’s his moral barometer? Where’s it at? It’s nowhere.’

Later that year, on May 30, Harvey appeared on an episode of Larry King Live guest hosted by Joy Behar.  During that interview, Harvey reiterated his assertion that women should not date atheists, who he claimed have “no moral barometer.”  Harvey stated that he refuses to speak to anyone claiming to be an atheist, who he said are “idiot(s)”. Harvey went on to suggest that modern astrophysics and evolutionary biology are without merit.”

This is the kind of jack-assery that Richard Dawson would never have engaged in. Instead, he would have had a belt of whiskey, a smoke and asked the show’s producer if there were any foxes on the show that day.

Long Live The Family Feud King.

Richard Dawson, the best host Family Feud ever had.

 

Xciting Xmas Gift Guide 2011, Part III

This one is for the foodies out there. To some extent, each one of us is, by necessity, a food lover. We love to stay alive, after all. Some of us are more low-key about our quest for enjoyable sustenance than others but most of us at least have an opinion about what we shove in our maws. So, although this list is aimed at the foodie in your life, there are ideas here for everyone. But maybe especially for those who get really excited by thick-cut, organic bacon and French macarons.

Nordic Ware Bakeware

Fairytale Cottage Bundt cake pan by Nordic Ware.Is your foodie also a bakie? Then get them a Minnesota-made cake pan in an unusual shape from Nordic Ware! Here I’ve highlighted my personal fave – the Platinum Fairytale Cottage Bundt Pan. The description online says, “Reminiscent of Hansel and Gretel’s cottage, this pan creates magical cakes sprinkled with powdered sugar or decorated.” Of course the holidays come  to mind when you look at the pan but you could have fun with this all year long, decorating it and even adding little figures to it if you happen to have a lot of time on your hands and no other hobbies.

Here are some decorating ideas:

  • Abandoned cottage overrun by raccoons.
  • Star Wars Cantina
  • Spooky house owned by woman on block suspected to be a witch.
  • Expensive weight loss clinic in Palm Springs
  • Mansion where the latest season of The Bachelor is shooting.

But if a cottage just isn’t right for your bakie, get them an old-fashioned bundt cake pan. Or a popover tray. Or a pan in the shape of a snowman or a gift. They’ve got it all, people!

Here in the Twin Cities we are incredibly lucky because we can go to the Nordic Ware Factory Store. They sell the full line of their cookware and bakeware at this store, in addition to irregular and discontinued items. You can, of course, find Nordic Ware at many cooking stores, Target (some items – I believe they are selling a ginger bread house pan for Xmas) and, of course, online.

Something Pickled

Jar of pickled eggs from Long Lake Specialty Foods.You can pickle just about anything. You can pickle eggs. You can pickle grapes, apples, onion, carrots, etc. And foodies in 2011/2012, pride themselves on loving pickled food. Of course, the best thing for foodie street cred is to pickle food stuffs oneself and then bring them out when guests are over.

“Pickled beets from my garden, anyone?” the foodie says. “Goes great with a cold microbrew.”

But the time for pickling homegrown veggies is behind us, at least in Minnesota. So what you need to do is turn to the people of northeastern Wisconsin, specifically Long Lake Specialty Foods (not to be confused with Long Lake, Minnesota). This is the company that prides itself on being your “hard to find” pickled food resource.

From the Long Lake Specialty Foods website:

Order with confidence, we use your information only for filling your order.  Credit card information is purged from the system daily. We replace any product damaged in transit at no charge to the customer and guarantee the quality of the products we sell…

Long Lake Foods  is a purveyor of our many fine Long Lake Brand Products which include: Pickled Eggs, Red Hots Pickled Eggs, Pickled Pork Hocks, Pickled Pigs Feet, Spicy Smoked Pickled Sausage, Hot & Spicy Pickled Sausage, Hot Pickled Sausage, Hot Cajun Pickled Eggs, Hot Cajun Pickled Sausage. We also sell select pickled products from the Porkie Company, Bayview Packing and Forest Floor Foods.

After reading that, how could you not order some  Hot Pickled Eggs? Or Pickled Pigs Feet? Hell, they even have pickled gizzards and pickled Polish sausage. A 26-count jar of the sausage is $23 and will last most of the winter, I imagine, unless you take it out to the ice fishing shanty to share with the gang.

While on their site, check out the Pickled Food News, a round-up of articles about what’s happening in the world of pickling.

If you don’t want to order your pickled items, you can shop around at some foodie stores in the Twin Cities. I saw some interesting pickled items at The Produce Exchange, located within Midtown Global Market, in Minneapolis. You might also try any of the food co-ops, cooking stores like Cooks of Crocus Hill or a specialty store like The Golden Fig in St. Paul.

Cooking Classes… Er… Experiences

It’s all about experiences now, right? Foodies love to eat but they also, many times, love to spend hours shopping for ingredients and cooking.  But sometimes their repertoire can get stale. Like, how many times can you eat your foodie friend’s paella that she learned how to cook while studying in Barcelona without being super bored? Right. So what you need to do is buy your foodie some lessons in how to make something new. It’s for everyone’s benefit.

In the Twin Cities, Cooks of Crocus Hill and Kitchen Window dominate the cooking lesson scene and they work hard to offer interesting classes in beautiful facilities. You can learn how to have a holiday fondue party or the fundamentals of pizza at Kitchen Window. Or, tackle Croissants 101 or a Sushi Crash Course at Cooks of Crocus Hill.

Maybe you don’t have that much cash to drop on cooking classes for your foodie. Don’t despair. That’s what Community Ed is for. Minneapolis offers an array of Continuing Education classes for adults and I make a point of perusing the cooking classes each time a new brochure comes out (the new one won’t be out until after the holidays but you can always get out your paper, crayons and scissors and create one of those awkward but touching “IOU” coupons for your foodie).

How about a class on how to make Pad Thai? They could learn how to decorate cakes or how to make Indian appetizers. And the best thing about community ed classes is that they are relatively inexpensive, making it possible for you to join your foodie for the class and bond over your shared love of Rugelach, which you can eat for dessert after you chomp down a few pickled eggs from Long Lake Specialty Foods.

Food Field Trip

Package of Hello Panda candy from Japan.Do you know how long the winters are in Minnesota? They are very long. They are so long that you can wear out a pair of gloves in one season. They are so long that, when you see it snowing at the beginning of April, you have to quietly tell your spouse to hide the knives in the kitchen so you don’t do yourself bodily harm.

So sometimes one needs to break up the monotony with an outing that’s not, “Let’s go outside and shovel. Again.” or, “Let’s go to the gas station so I can get some more windshield wiper fluid.”

What about a food field trip? Sometimes I like to wander the aisles someplace and discover food products I never knew existed (I’m not hard to entertain). So pick an interesting place filled with food (or alcohol) and take your foodie there as a belated holiday gift. The deal is that you agree to buy them some food or drink that looks interesting that they’ve never tried before as part of the fun.  You might even assemble a meal.

Here are my suggestions for places to go, in no semblance of any order:

Midtown Global Market
Seward Co-op or The Wedge
Byerly’s on Park Center Blvd. in St. Louis Park (seriously – a food sanctuary so hushed and well-stocked it seems as if there should be a chapel somewhere in there, where one can slip away to thank the Food Gods for creating such a place and giving it carpeting, to boot.)
United Noodles in Minneapolis
Kramarczuk’s (mostly known as a restaurant but they have a store, too.)
Ingebretsen’s on East Lake in Minneapolis
Bill’s Imported Foods on West Lake in Minneapolis (Greek food… OLIVES!)
Surdyk’s in Northeast Minneapolis (not only for outstanding selection of wine and booze but for their deli full of imported cheese, chocolate and other items, including delicious sandwiches they make for you to take away somewhere and scarf down. You can check their daily deli offerings here.)
The Four Firkins in St. Louis Park (for that craft beer fanatic in your life)

The Odds And The Ends

You can always default to kitchen utensils and gear. I can tell you that the precision, German-made pizza cutter I bought many years ago has never disappointed me. And does your foodie have a Microplane? This tool changed my entire attitude towards grating Parmesan. How about some fancy, pink salt harvested from the sea? What about an ice cream maker and The Perfect Scoop, the ultimate ice cream recipe book, written by pastry chef, blogger and author David Lebovitz?

How about making it possible for your foodie to take his or her act on the road? These shatterproof but fashionable wine glasses by GoVino are perfect for the foodie who wants to go see that movie in the park this summer and share a bottle of Malbec with friends or one who prefers to sit on a blanket at the Lake Harriet Rose Garden enjoying wine and some pickled pork bits in peace.

When all else fails, try to track down the 1966 version of The First Ladies Cook Book.

Xciting Xmas Gift Guide 2011, Part II

Reading is near and dear to me, so Part II of my Xciting Xmas Gift Guide is dedicated to the book lovers out there.

Out Of Print T-Shirts

Atlas Shrugged T-shirtThis company, maker of t-shirts (and other items) with classic lit covers on them, is fashion heaven for the heavy reader. It is so hard to choose a t-shirt!  Are you in a Lolita mood or a Animal Farm mood?  Maybe Wuthering Heights? I’ve known about their t-shirts for awhile and the only reason I don’t own one is because I was never able to choose (I think I’ve got it narrowed down – Great Gatsby, until they make a Jane Eyre).

Of course, you can buy all their products online but there’s a great local angle here – you can now buy a great selection of these shirts at Magers & Quinn in Uptown in Minneapolis. One advantage, besides supporting a local store, is that you can examine the t-shirts on display and get an idea of what size is correct for you.. uh, I mean, the person you’re shopping for. That’s always the tough thing about buying t-shirts online, right? What cut is it? What’s a medium like? What’s a large like? Problem solved.

Please note that M&Q does not stock every single design, although they do have many, so check the Out Of Print website for all the options. For example, I can tell you right now that if you want the Atlas Shrugged tee, you gotta go online. And some options are for the ladies and not for men. I guess they don’t find any men clamoring to wear a The Bell Jar t-shirt?

Note: If I did see a man wearing a The Bell Jar t-shirt, I would want to say hello to him. Same for a Pride & Prejudice tee.

Magers also sells the tote bags! Snag that bookie [this is the official new, hip name for people who love books and literature] in your life a Moby Dick tote bag!

Public Library Swag

Friends of Hennepin County Library tote bag.Anyone who is serious about their reading is a card-carrying member of the library. I think libraries are probably one of the greatest inventions of all time – there are so many books I want to look at, skim and read that, unless I want to be the weirdo who sets up shop at the bookstore all afternoon, the library is the way to go.

Recently, the Hennepin County Public Library announced that as of January 1, 2011, it will put a limit on how many items patrons can have in their “Requests” queue, limiting it to 30 items per person. I know my sister was particularly devastated by this news. For book lovers like us, who rush to put something on hold the moment we hear about it, 30 items is rough sledding.

Part of the reason for this is that the library is facing a reduction in the amount it will be able to spend on new books, to the tune of $2 million. That’s a lot of books it won’t be able to buy and circulate to us, the knowledge-hungry public.

You can buy merch to support the library (you can also become a Friend of the Library). The best of it in Hennepin County is located at the Minneapolis Central bookstore in downtown Minneapolis. Head there to check out the gift options: notepads, coffee mugs, flash drives, book bags and t-shirts, in addition to used books and magazines.

Gift idea: Get the reader in your life a Minneapolis Public Library t-shirt for the holidays this year and then each year add another library to the collection – New York Public Library, Chicago, Houston, you get the idea.

There’s a bonus for you, the gift-giver, too. You can make an afternoon of it at Central -hit the bookstore, go to the Dunn Brothers right next door for coffee and a chocolate-covered graham cracker, see the beautiful building, browse library books and read for awhile by the fire place. Go up to the fourth floor for a view of the city.

Are you a hardcore St. Paulite? The Friends of the St. Paul Public Library has their own swag and you can peruse it online here.

Anything From Fantagraphics Books

The Complete Peanutes 1970-1980 from Fantagraphics.I have Keith to thank for this suggestion. Fantagraphics has a catalog of comics and graphic novels like few others. They’ve published R. Crumb, Jamie and Gilbert Hernandez, Dan Clowes, Chris Ware and is behind “the most ambitious publishing project in the history of the American comic strip: the complete reprinting of Charles M. Schulz’s classic, Peanuts.” There are going to be 25 books in all when they are finished with the Peanuts collection (as of now I believe there are 17 out). Keith has been collecting these books slowly throughout the years and, when he gets one, it seems as if he devours it in a few hours.

Gift Idea: get your book lover volume 1 of the Peanuts this year and you’ve got 24 gifts in the making. See how easy I’m making this for you?

Even if your old-fashioned prose-lover is wary of dipping a toe into the comic waters, Peanuts is something anyone will love unless they are dead inside.

Also, out within the past month, is the first volume of what will be a 12-volume set of the Pogo comic strip by Walt Kelly from 1949 to 1973.

You can spend a lot of time on the website looking at all Fantagraphics has to offer (Mark Twain’s Autobiography 1910-2010, anyone?) and you can find the books locally in the Twin Cities. My vote, as a mostly non-comic reader who confesses to dabbling now and then, is to head to Big Brain Comics, located at 1027 Washington Avenue South in Minneapolis. Who knows what else you might find?

Thrifted Books

Cover of paperback novel called Cruel Is The Night.This one is for that someone in your life who appreciates the odd, the wacky and/or will read just about anything. You can customize to their taste or pick a theme (I strongly advise a theme for a more personal touch, or getting them as many books as you can from, say, the Left Behind series), all at little risk, what with paperbacks often starting at 70 cents at a lot of thrifts. My favorites ideas are the Hollywood celebrity memoirs, bad poetry (think Jewel), how-to-enjoy-sex books from the 1970s and Erma Bombeck paperbacks, like The Grass Is Always Greener Over The Septic Tank.

Note: I think we are overdue for a Erma Bombeck revival in this country. I hear she’s currently big in France.

Some of my favorite books have been secured at thrift stores, estate sales and antique stores. I found Zsa Zsa Gabor’s memoir in hardcover, something that made me supremely happy. Cookbooks are great to look for (hunt for The First Ladies Cookbook or Betty Crocker’s Cooky Book from the 60s) both for the cook and the person with a cultural anthropology bent.

Gift Idea: If you’re attracted to a cover but think the book itself will be crap, buy the book anyway, cut off the cover and frame it – the best would be to find a trio of covers you like and frame them against solid black backgrounds in black frames (which you could get from Michael’s, JoAnn, Dick Blick, etc. if you make it a standard size – no need to get it professionally framed).

Are you going to tell me you couldn’t look at this cover all day?

Cover of paperback book called SuperManChu.

Best places in the Twin Cities to look for such books? Arc’s Value Village, any Savers location (but I like the one on East Lake in Minneapolis), the Mall of St. Paul, the St. Vincent de Paul store on West 7th in St. Paul… the list goes on and on. Try thrift stores first, where you should pay less than a dollar per paperback in most cases. Sometimes they mark the good ones (read: salacious) up to $1.99.

But what about books, you might say? New books, exciting books, not relics from the thrift bin. Well, there are any number of round-ups online. Check out 101 Books We Can’t Live Without, the New York Times Gift Guide for Books or their “10 Best Books of 2011,” article, just out today, and Publishers Weekly’s Best Books of 2011.

Looking for a hostess gift? Check out Xciting Xmas Gift Guide 2011 Part I!

 

 

Xciting Xmas Gift Guide 2011, Part I

Yes, it’s Cyber Monday! Woot. I just bought some throw pillows online that are totally for me.

This is how I feel:

santa bear with gift

Like a cute but also 1980s-esque bear wearing a Santa hat.

I realized something today. I like to shop for stuff. Not in a Black Friday kind of way. I will never push anyone down or pepper spray them for cheap electronics. [Keith said we should be thankful to the woman who pepper sprayed other shoppers at Walmart on Friday for providing us all with a new standard for what it means to suck – as long as you are behaving better than that woman, you aren’t completely failing as a human being.]

No, I like quirky, weird, arty, thrilling stuff. I like antiques. I like musty books. I like things made out of other things. I like to have a comfy home environment. I don’t do a lot of holiday shopping because my family gave up on that whole gifting thing a few years ago. Now we assemble in Florida and spend time together playing shuffle board.

It’s been very liberating.

However, I like the idea of holiday shopping on a small scale. Safe and sane, that’s my holiday shopping motto. So I’ve decided to put that energy into an Xciting Xmas Gift Guide for 2011 that focuses mostly on stuff you can buy in independent stores in the Twin Cities. Because I like stores and I don’t want them to go away. However, a lot of times you can also find the same items online or in stores in your own city/town because this is The World 2.0.

I’m kicking off the Guide today with a few Xciting Hostess Gifts.

Weiner Dog Waxed Cheddar Cheese

At the Mall of America there is a shop called Rybicki Cheese Ltd. and it sells all things Wisconsin cheese and Packer fan-related. Basically, it’s a pocket of Wisconsin goodness at the mall. Recently, I took part in a scavenger hunt at the Mall of America (OK, I made up the scavenger hunt and then also participated in it) and found out about Rybicki. These are nice people. They were very tolerant of our hunt and also helped us figure out how to get to our next destination. Anyway, what we got from Rybicki was the Weiner Dog Waxed Cheddar Cheese, retailing for $4.79 and worth every penny.  Sorry for this rather poor photo in which the dog is encased in plastic.

Here are the winning features of the  Weiner Dog Waxed Cheddar Cheese:

1. Unbelievably cute.
2. Super fun to peel the wax off the cheddar dog.
3. Yummy cheese.

If you are going to a holiday open house or party and the host is a dog-lover, they will appreciate this tribute in cheese. You can also order this cheese gem online.

BTW, if you’re more into weiner dogs and cupcakes, instead of cheese, here is a very cute idea from the blog I Hart Cupcakes.

Soy Vey Candles

Soy candles in wine bottles by Soy Vey Candles.
Photo by The Vintage Home

Have you ever bought a bottle of wine mainly because you liked its label? And then when you’re done drinking it you want to save the bottle but you think maybe that’s odd, to have bottles lined up on your windowsill like you live in a studio apartment and finish out your liberal arts degree? Well, problem solved with Soy Vey Candles.

I first saw these candles when they were selling at GUILD in St. Louis Park and I should have nabbed one then. The images on the website don’t really do them the full justice they deserve because the photos don’t  show off the variety of wine bottles and even beer bottles  the candles are housed in – some very cool and beautiful bottles. Yes, they are soy, which is all the rage now and they have that little bit of raffia wrapped around them, which I could take or leave, but the main point is that they allow the buyer to choose something customized to the tastes of the receiver. For example, if someone gave me one in the bottle of a good German Riesling, I would be so touched. Knowing someone’s preferred wine says that you care about them.

Of course, the best way to present this would be along with a full bottle of wine.

The candles sell at various stores throughout the country but in the Twin Cities area we have several options because they are made in MN. Find your shopping options here.

Primitive Skeletons With Bouncing Necks

Primitive Day of the Dead Skeletons with Bouncing Heads
Photo by Zinnia Folk Arts

I think the title here says it all. These are sold by Zinnia Folk Arts, a business that sells Mexican folk art brought here from Mexico by Anne, a dedicated seller with a great eye. I first found Zinnia on a snowy winter day in 2010, when a snowstorm was bearing down on Minneapolis and I got to leave work early. I wasn’t so afraid of the snow that I couldn’t stop off and look at Mexican folk art.

That should give you some level of understanding about my relationship to shopping.

Zinnia used to do pop-up shops in South Minneapolis, then they lost the use of the space they were using and moved to GUILD in St. Louis Park. Zinnia also sells beautiful silver jewelry, if you’re looking for something special for someone in your life who is closer to you than a hostess. You can read the full Zinnia FAQ here.

You can buy these sweet, Day of the Dead skeletons at GUILD (4414 Excelsior Blvd in St Louis Park, MN—between Trader Joe’s and Optiz, on the same side of the block), which I highly encourage because then you can look at all the other stuff at GUILD and what was supposed to be a quick stop will turn into an hour of browsing. You can also buy them online. They are $15.

Not recommended for the boring hostess. Or for someone you really don’t know all that well.

 

The NSFW Snowman

First there was “Who stole the Keeshka?”

Then there was “Who moved my cheese?”

And now there’s “Who Put the D**k On The Snowman?”

Catalog item called Who Put The Dick on the Snowman?

We received a catalog in the mail from The Lighter Side Co. It’s all joke stuff or stuff you would wear/ display if you lived in a terribly hokey small town or lived anywhere in the world, really, but just had bad taste. Keith and I have both taken turns, since it arrived, in examining it in great detail. I do most of my Lighter Side research while drinking tea in the morning but he topped me by bringing it to bed with him as reading material.

This is when we discovered Who Put The D**k on the Snowman on page 7.

See, the snowman is angry because someone used a thimble to represent his penis. What strikes me as odd about this, just one of the things, really, is that he’s upset because his fake penis is represented by something small. He doesn’t have a penis but, if he did, it would surely be large. So he could satisfy… his… many snow lovers?

I never knew how macho a snowman could be. And I never wanted to give this much thought to snowman dicks.

The ad says this thing plays “Rodney Carrington’s original song ‘Who Put The Dick On the Snowman.'” (No need for asterisks there, for some reason). I’m assuming that The Lighter Side Co’s usual clientele are nodding their heads while saying, “Yes! I love me some Rodney!” but I was perplexed. Even the helpful “He’s the guy who wrote ‘Titties and Beer,” didn’t ring any bells for me. [I do, however, see the theme in Rodney’s music.]

If you’re clueless like me, here’s Rodney in action. PLEASE WATCH THIS:

http://youtu.be/0ylRplLnU84

And now:

http://youtu.be/Tmb8bcJPTFM

So, Rodney is Ray Stevens for a new generation?

If you live in a liberal bubble like I do in South Minneapolis, watching these videos may be helpful when trying to understand why Obama might not be re-elected.

Estate Sale Indiscretion

Although I’m a big lover of estate sales, this is the best example I’ve seen of Estate Sale Gone Wrong:

A box of Stayfree Maxi Pads found at an estate sale.

Before I saw this box of 1960s feminine napkins (No pins! No belts!) in a basement on Friday, the most baffling personal hygiene item I’d seen for sale at an estate sale was an opened box of Depends pads. But those seem downright logical compared to this box of pads in the cellar.

I’ve talked to a few people about this find and they all claim there are people out there who collect old product boxes. Hmm… I guess people do collect old food containers, tins and boxes. But I have yet to hear of anyone who collects old feminine napkin and tampon boxes.

It’s a collection that would be odd to see in someone’s house. Perhaps on display in glass cabinets or lined up on shelves with track lights trained on them? Imagine going over to a friend’s house for dinner and, before they serve up the lasagne, they want to show you their collection, a Walk Down Menses Lane.

See this here? This is a handsewn pad from the 1860s. That’s Civil War time! They used to take them down to the river in metal buckets and beat them on the rocks to get them clean. Had to keep a lid on the bucket so bears wouldn’t get wind of them… Then we move forward in time to these pads from the 1930s that actually had belts to  keep them in place. No adhesives yet, that’s why. We can thank World War II for that. And then here’s my latest addition, found this at an estate sale this past weekend. The first pads with no pins or belts required. I only paid 50 cents for this, can you believe it?

Naturally, the box of pads raised many questions in my mind. Here are but a few:

1. If you are going to sell the box because it’s an old box someone might collect, could you or should you throw away the pads inside? When I moved the box over into a patch of sunlight to get a better photo of it, a pad went flying out. By the way, they didn’t scrimp on the layers of padding back then. It was a cotton brick. [Yes, the box says they are flushable but only if you never want to flush your toilet again.)

2. If something is only going to garner you 50 cents, and it’s that strange, should you just toss it out?

3. Is this a failure on the part of the estate sale company to protect the image of the woman who had recently moved out? There were neighbors of hers in the house, looking at her stuff. She had recently moved to a nursing home, so it’s not as if she’s on vacation and will be back any day – the likelihood of her seeing these people again is slim. But somehow it seems as if the sale clerks were allowing a little secret of hers to be let out that could easily have been obscured by tossing the box in the garbage.  Why she held on to it in the first place is anyone’s guess but it’s not fair to leave it there for the neighbors to see, possibly sealing her legacy as the The Sanitary Napkin Hoarder.

4. Would anyone buy this who was not a collector but because it’s utilitarian? For example, a female friend could be over to watch a movie and say, “Oh, shoot, I just got my period and I don’t have a tampon along. Could you…?” And you could say, “I bought a box of extras just for this very scenario,” and hand her the cotton brick to place between her legs? [I seriously hadn’t seen pads this big since a trip to Italy two years ago and over there I just figured that it had something to do with Catholicism.]

In answer to my own question #4, the answer would probably be, “Yes.” I’ve seen people carting out other products from estate sales. A top seller is laundry detergent. I don’t know if it’s considered a pricey item at the grocery store but there are many old women only too happy to swoop into an estate sale and buy open containers of detergent. Same holds true for wood polish. This doesn’t necessarily strike me as wrong (someone should use it up, I guess), but if we draw conclusions from this fact, I’d say there might be some takers for the pads.

By the way, for what it’s worth, I did wait for everyone else down in the basement with me to leave before I took the photo. I figured that maybe the only thing more strange than being the person who buys the box of old pads is the person who just takes a photo of them. I had to wait quite a while for a couple to decide they were not going to purchase the hand ringer washer (!) and leave the basement. More proof, I guess, that you can sell just about anything.

 

You & J. Crew: So Merry, So Bright

A drawing of a mona glitter pump from j crewYou got the  J. Crew holiday catalog in the mail yesterday and the cover says “Happy Holidays From The Italian Alps.” How did they know that’s where you’re headed this holiday season? But between now and then you have a lot of holiday-ing to do.

Luckily, you can do it all in J. Crew.

You bundle up in your HEARTHSTONE SNOOD ($49.50) to walk to a cozy cafe to sip cocoa and write gift ideas for  family and friends in your ARCHIE GRAND FOR J.CREW NOTEBOOK ($10). Your cello teacher is getting a MAGIC WALLET in leopard print ($22.50) and your third cousin is getting the CASHMERE-LINED LEATHER GLOVES ($98) but everyone else has you vexed!

There’s no time to dawdle if you’re going to meet your model/graphic designer/drummer/environmentalist fiancé to pick out a Christmas tree at the organic tree farm. He’s wearing his RED WING FOR J. CREW BECKMAN MOC-TOE BOOTS ($320) in order to saw down the tree. You take a picture for Facebook. You know you look cute tossing snow at his head while wearing your TOGGLE COAT IN WOOL-CASHMERE WITH THINSULATE ($325).

When it comes time to decorate the tree and hang the wreath, you change into your NO. 2 PENCIL SKIRT IN MIDNIGHT TWEED ($138) and slide across your shiny wood floors with strings of cranberries and popcorn in your CORGI CASHMERE SOCKS ($88).

Oh, yA woman with messy ponytail wearing j. crewou have to work at the art gallery on Tuesday! You forgot  – you thought you took the entire month of December off. Oh, well. You just have to sit at the desk and pretend to read Ulysses. You do it in your HANDKNIT FAIR ISLE SWEATER ($225) over your JULES DRESS in Fresh Strawberry ($198). Chinese food for lunch, sign for one package, send a fax and you’re done for the day!

Your fiance’s old roommate is protesting down at Occupy! You agree to go visit and share some falafel and pumpkin seed bread while sitting on the curb. You wear your FAIR ISLE SWEATER-LEGGINGS ($98) and PUFFERS coat ($188) to try to blend in at the drum circle. To show the old roomie you’re not the unimaginative bitch he thinks you are, you bring him a gift – who wouldn’t want a pair of DANCING SANTA BOXERS ($18.50)?

Time for caroling! You go with the MAJESTY PEACOAT in Dark Bone ($258), PIXIE PANTS ($88) and your MACALISTER WEDGE BOOTS ($198). You get drunk while waiting for everyone else to be ready to go, then have to pee the entire time. You beg people to let you use their bathrooms and rifle through their medicine cabinets.

Holiday Open House at your boss’s loft! You spend hours preparing a a messy ponytail and wear your dark-rimmed A j crew satchel that says do not touchglasses and TALIA TOP IN WILDCAT ($118) with CAFE CAPRIS IN WOOL. Keep an eye on your BROMPTON SATCHEL in Henna ($278), that’s where you keep the cache of drugs you stole while caroling.

You forgot to buy a bauble for Betsy, that annoying, sort-of-friend who happens to have a great summer cabin you love going to every August. You buy her an  ARGYLE, HAND-ENAMELED BANGLE ($28) and a pair of socks from THE GAP.

Your fiancé wants to make a snowman. You watch the action from the safety of the front porch while wearing your GLIMMER LONG SLEEVE TEE ($88), MINNIE PANTS IN BI-STRETCHED WOOL and SPERRY TOP-SIDER SHORT SHEARWATER BOOTS ($138), which are so ugly you want to return them but you already stepped in dog shit so that’s that.

For the cookie exchange with gal pals you’re wearing your WYNTER V-NECK SWEATER in Roasted Cider ($69.50), STRETCH VINTAGE BOOTCUT CORDS ($79.50) and BIELLA METALLIC PENNY LOAFERS ($248) but you’re not eating any cookies – you’re biting into them and slipping the bites into napkins when no one is looking and throwing them away. You can’t believe how much the other ladies are eating. It’s depressing.

Holiday movie time! You put on your SILK CELESTIAL PAJAMA SHIRT IN STARSTRUCK ($118) and SILK CELESTIAL PAJAMA PANT IN STARSTRUCK ($108) and make a big production of making popcorn and queuing up It’s a Wonderful Life but then spend the entire time texting and tweeting.

A furry hunting hat from j crew.Big, awesome party filled with hip people. You go quirky-maximus by wearing your TOSCANA SHEARLING TRAPPER HAT ($198) paired with your JULES DRESS IN SEQUIN STRIPE ($495) to show that you don’t care that your fiancé’s ex-fiancé, Bronwyn,  is there. You really don’t care. See? You’re wearing a  hunting hat with a sequined dress! Someone hands you a PBR and you drink it down in one long, continuous gulp.

Quick pre-holiday Job interview for a junior associate assistant position at a PR firm! You think they will take you seriously if you wear your TISSUE TURTLENECK TEE ($29.50), monogrammed ITALIAN CASHMERE V-NECK ($168) and SILK STINGER SKIRT in Grey Slate ($235). Oh, but they don’t.

Holiday shopping at J. Crew in your CASHMERE BOYFRIEND CARDIGAN in Heather Spearmint ($198), NIGHTSHIRT IN SILK FOULARD ($178) and CLASSIC MINI IN FELTED WOOL in Stone ($98). You can’t figure out why the other customers keep asking you if they can get a fitting room.Drawing of skinny jeans from j crew

You are so exhausted. It’s time to go to Italy. You wear your HIGH-WAISTED SKINNY JEANS in Night Owl Wash ($125), ITALIAN BALLETS in Lula Snakeskin ($198) and DREAM DOLMAN SWEATER in Heather Cloud ($98) on the plane and watch Just Go With It starring Jennifer Aniston and Adam Sandler. You think it’s a good movie.

As soon as you get back from the holidays you’re going to buy your J. Crew ESCALIER GOWN COLLECTION WEDDING GOWN ($2,400).

Another Look: Bill Cunningham New York

The documentary Bill Cunningham New York came out last spring. It played in the Twin Cities as part of the Minneapolis St. Paul International Film Festival, which is where I first saw it. It has quickly become one of my favorite documentaries. I watched it again last week (it is now available streaming through Netflix) and was struck all over again at how it accomplishes everything a documentary should.

To me, this  means that it delves into its subject and allows the subject matter to raise the questions (and there must be questions and murky areas or the viewer is left wondering why the documentary was made at all). This is especially true when a documentary is about a person. The person needs to be extraordinary themselves or their story needs to be extraordinary. They can’t be mundane unless they are so mundane it passes into comedy.

I was recently at a film festival and watched a documentary made about a semi-famous person and it was awful. Why? Because everyone interviewed for the film liked or loved that person. And it was all interviews of people talking. The one person who said he didn’t like the subject seemed as if he was a hired actor. I grew very bored.

Bill Cunningham is a street fashion photographer for the New York Times. He also photographs charity events and the big runway shows. He started out in life as a hat designer, went into the Army when he was drafted during WWII, came back and started writing for newspapers and eventually became a fashion photographer. He is now into his 80s and still biking around New York every day, capturing photos of interesting fashion. A more complete bio and links to his work can be found here.

For Bill, it’s not about the people wearing the clothes, although he has great respect for his subjects. It’s also not about his own celebrity (street fashion blogger du jour take note). It is about the clothes and what those clothes say about the times we live in. He’s not thinking up a trend and then going out to find it. He’s patiently waiting for trends to present themselves to him and then he documents them for us.

With that in mind, here are three reasons to watch this film:

1. Bill lives a meager existence compared to many of us. He doesn’t like fancy food. He doesn’t cook (one of my favorite things in the movie is a side note at the end saying that, after Bill moved into a new apartment, he had the landlord take out the kitchen appliances so he would have room for his filing cabinets of photos and negatives). He doesn’t wear fancy clothes. His time is devoted entirely to photography. His singularity of purpose and passion in this modern world are what make him extraordinary and it’s a good reminder for us all about what makes life worth living.

2. You can’t watch this movie and feel not uplifted. That’s not to say that there aren’t sad moments in the film but it’s great to watch someone who seems genuinely happy. If I were having a down day, I’d want to have a chat with Bill.

3. This film is beautifully shot. The lighting is extraordinary. Everyone looks beautiful. Even though this was a first-time effort on a feature-length film for the cinematographers, you can tell they have experience in photography and it’s to the audience’s benefit.If nothing else, enjoy the lighting.

If you’re in the mood for documentaries, here’s a little list that might may you say, “Oh, yeah, that movie. I should see that again.”

Hell House (2001)
Capturing the Friedmans
(2003)
Rize (2005)
Crazy Love (2007)
Inside Job (2010)

And here are some that are on my Must Watch Soon list:

The Interrupters (2011)
Page One: Inside the New York Times (2011)
Bobby Fischer Against the World (2010) Out on DVD on December 6th.
Marwencol (2010)
Winnebago Man (2009)

 

99 Projects: Embroidered Portrait

Project #7: Embroidered Pet Portrait

Over a year ago, Freja and I were walking through a park and I stopped to take some photos of her. One of them always cracks me up because I’m never sure what to make of the look on her face:

I created a collage on my bedroom wall of thrifted portraits, photos and drawings of dogs but it was missing my own dog. So I traced the photo onto tracing paper with a special pencil, ironed it so that those lines transferred onto fabric and went to work. After many hours embroidering while watching everything from Arrested Development, Project Runway and to the movie The Fly, I finally finished:

It’s definitely not an exact translation but I like the crafty, maybe kid-like quality it has. Perhaps this photo provides a better view, I can’t decide:

Now just have to get around to adding it the wall collection!

Just The Way It Is: Thoughts On Deer Hunting

This past weekend was the opening of deer hunting (gun) season in Minnesota. As a vegetarian with 10+ years of meat-free smugness under my belt, you’d think I’d be against such an activity, but I’m not. The main reason for this is my dad, a lifelong deer hunter.

I’ve never been hunting. I was the girl who cried during Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom whenever an animal (usually something of the deer-ish variety) got attacked and eaten by a predator.

“That’s the way nature is,” my dad would say, but I wasn’t having it.

One Christmas, my dad wrapped up a rifle and put it under the tree. He played it off as a big joke when I opened it but part of him wanted me to unwrap it, hug its cold barrel to my chest and then jump up and down yelling, “When can we go shoot? Huh, Dad? When can we go out and kill things?”

What actually happened: I think I looked at him and rolled my eyes.

Still, I grew up in deer hunting culture. Every November, kids (boys) in my class were excused from school to go off deer hunting with their dads. This strikes me now as a big injustice to those of us (girls) who had to attend school but at the time it didn’t faze me. On Thanksgiving morning, my dad would be getting back from hunting with my uncles and cousins by the time my sister and I were up watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

My dad, who owned a produce store, had the space and facilities to process deer for other people. For several years, it was normal for me to walk over to our store, go in the back door and see several deer strung up by their hindquarters, tongues hanging out, dark eyes like marbles. More would be stowed in the walk-in cooler. My dad and grandfather worked at cutting the deer up, their cover-alls coated in blood. There were barrels filled with the discarded deer parts and sometimes one of our dogs would be brave enough to jump up and grab a discarded leg, running back to our yard with the furry spindle, capped by a hoof, in its mouth.

Last week, I was watching the local evening news and they had a story on about hunters getting ready for the big weekend. The first part of the story was about how much hunting costs (apparently, too damn much). This had never occurred to me because it’s not a complaint my father would ever make. You went to Fleet Farm and bought what you needed and it lasted you for 10 years (more like 25+ years).

You didn’t need fancy equipment or an ATV; you carried your deer out on your back if you had to. My dad hunted on his own land and much of the best hunting took place in a  swamp. Carrying a deer out on your back while struggling through crotch-high swamp water can give guys a heart attack if they’re not healthy and strong and I believe this is one reason both of my grandfathers were eventually persuaded they should no longer go out.

The second part of the news story talked about how, despite the cost, hunting is rewarding. The people interviewed talked about how they couldn’t wait to get out to their tree stand – and take naps. Or sit and contemplate life. Or enjoy nature. This made me sad. It seemed as if all these people really needed was time at a secluded B&B or a wilderness resort but they thought it would make them less macho or maybe just strange, so they waited until deer season for an excuse to sit out in the woods and get their heads together.

I wanted to tell them that the woods is always there and one doesn’t need an excuse to go to it.

It might be that growing up on a farm is what made me a vegetarian – I took it in the opposite direction than a lot of people would. I grew up eating my fair share of hunted meat (deer, goose, duck, pheasant, rabbit, perch, walleye and, once, I think, squirrel) and I saw death. I watched my grandfather chop the heads off chickens and let them run for a few seconds before collapsing. I found dead cats in our barn. I poked at dismembered rabbits, killed by our dogs, with sticks. Sometimes my dad would help another farmer butcher pigs and, while I was never present when the killing took place, I did find the maggot-filled cesspool where the discarded parts were buried.

My dad and I do have disagreements about when and how often animals have to meet their death at the hands of humans. For example, I don’t think the squirrels that ravage his bird feeder need to die. He does. And the last time I went home for a visit, he was luring deer to a spot in the woods with apples, then going out in the evening, climbing up a tree with his bow and waiting for them to show up for the delicious treats.

One rainy evening while sitting out in the stand he hit a deer with an arrow and it ran off into the mist. He was certain it was hurt enough to die but he couldn’t find it, not that night or the next morning.

“That’s a waste,” I said. “You killed it and now it’s going to rot in a field somewhere.”

“I can’t help it,” my dad said. “That’s just the way it is.” Sort of a “you win some/you lose some” attitude.

I found this drawing that sort of illustrates what happened except imagine that the arrow is sticking into the deer and then imagine it running away. And imagine it being dark and rainy and impossible to see all this:

But I could tell he felt a bit bad about it. If he kills something he does it mostly within the rules (as far as I know – ever since I found out in college that he used to burn old tires to get rid of them I guess I shouldn’t put anything past him) and wants to use the animal as food. I’m not such a bleeding heart that I don’t realize this has literally been going on since the beginning of humanity and will never stop until we run out of wild animals to hunt.

But then we’ll probably start in on the cows, if only we can teach them to walk through the woods and run away when they see us in order to make it feel like something of a fair(er) fight.

You Should Totally Go: Found vs. Found Film Fest

If you’re a pop culture aficionado (I think that’s all of us under the age of 50 at least) you are aware of the zine called Found Magazine, started by Davy Rothbart and Jason Bitner. It’s a collection of, well, found notes and photos and heart-rending love notes, etc., much of it user submitted. Praise for naming the mag exactly what it is instead of going with something more enigmatic, like Ephemera Magazine, or something twee like Flotsam & Jetsam Magazine (which is a relief because that’s totally going to be MY magazine).

[BTW, if you want to know more about Davy Rothbart, there’s this article or you could watch this movie but if you don’t have time for all that tedious clicking and reading I can say that he’s very open about the sexual side of his life but I prefer to think of him as the Found Mag dude because I’m Midwestern like that.]

Others of you may be aware of the Found Footage Film Festival, started by Joe Pickett and Nick Prueher. It’s a fest of, well, found footage – mainly VHS tapes found at thrift stores and garage sales, etc. One of their rules is NO YouTube, meaning they’re not just out there trolling YouTube to find their stuff.

Hurry and go to the website to watch a woman who knows how to fill out a bodysuit dance to “Thriller” on a cable access show and you’ll get what I’m talking about.

And now Found and Found are engaging in hand-to-hand Found Combat on tour together and they are coming to the Twin Cities.

Our date is Monday, November 14, doors at 7-ish at the Heights Theater in Columbia Heights. You can go here to get your advance tix (which I did and strongly suggest you do rather than foolishly believing you can laze about and still get some at the door – remember you are up against A LOT of pop culture buffs here). Tickets are $13, (plus some bogus-y $1 service fee but pop culture ain’t always cheap) with one dollar from every ticket sold benefiting IFP-MN, where people learn to do cool stuff with film/video and photography.

Who am I putting my money on? Found Footage. Notes are hilarious but it will be hard to top stuff like this.

99 Projects: Wall Art

Project #6: Wall Art for Living Room

When Keith switched jobs recently, we were on the hook to give back the artwork that had been on loan from his former employer. It was a large painting that filled a fairly large space on our living room wall. I could only take a few days of looking at the emptiness before I had to think of something.

This is what we did:

1970s chic! Total cost – $20

I went to an occaisonal sale at the Cottage House on Chicago Avenue in Minneapolis. This was on the first day of the month the sale was open and it was nutty in there – a lot of women grabbing whatever they could get their hands on. The Cottage House is just that – a small house – so it was hard to manuever around all the stuff and the women with glazed eyes hugging shabby chic furniture. To the Cottage House’s credit, they really move the merch there.

The backyard and the garage at Cottage House are also full of stuff. I found a bunch of old shutters leaning against the house and amoung them were some lattice panels for $5 each, so I bought them. The big plus is that they are super lightweight. They needed to be repaired (with wood glue at the joints) and cleaned. We decided to leave the finish rather than painting them a different color.

I thrifted the printed fabric behind the panels awhile ago – it was a great Mad Men-esque print from the 60’s that was $5. We used some solid fabrics as accents, attaching all the fabric to the back of the frame with hot glue. I broke my glue gun in the process – or rather, the glue gun tip fell off mid-glue. This is the second time this has happened to me so I think I’m done buying the $8 glue guns.

Here’s the wall art “in a room” with my fuzzy deer/reindeer collection, squirrel pillow and, of course, Freja:

But You Are In That Chair: The Halloween Edition

baby jane on beach 170From time to time, Baby Jane Hudson appears here with her column But You Are In That Chair: Baby Jane’s Advice For the Confused, Depressed and Clueless. Today’s column is, appropriately, all about Halloween and how to celebrate the holiday if, like Baby Jane, you just woke up after a four-day drinking binge and realized that not a thing has been done to prepare for the holiday – no fake cobwebs strewn in the bushes, no plastic gravestones inserted in the front lawn and no costume purchased from the Halloween superstore that operates out of what used to be your neighborhood Blockbuster outlet.

Let the Halloween fun begin!

Dear Baby Jane,
OK, I need some good last-minute costume ideas. I was going to do what I do every year – sit in my house watching TV with all the shades drawn and the lights off – but now I’ve been invited to go to a party and then dancing at a club. I do like to go to da club! I need something easy and cheap.
Gonna Party Like It’s 1997
Baltimore, MD

Dear Party 1997,
The best costume idea I’ve ever had is the one I use  year after year – a drunk. All it requires is to get drunk. Then stumble around and say things you’ll regret the next day. If you’ve got the stones to take it up a notch, vomit on someone. It’s not just a costume – it’s performance art. If  booze isn’t your thing, pop some Lunesta and wait for that neon butterfly to appear. Then talk to it. Pet it. Now that’s what I call creepy. Want another idea? Go as a depressed person. All it requires is… nothing. Just read some news on the Internet and walk out of your house. When people ask you what you are, you say, “I’m depressed!” in an anxious, annoyed and yet dejected manner. But if you really, really want to go for the WOW factor, if you really want to be scary, here’s my best suggestion:

Now that’s scary.
Baby Jane

Dear Baby Jane:
Halloween is finally here and I’m having all my friends over for a séance. We’re going to find the open portal in my house (I think it’s in the laundry room but my husband insists it’s in our second bathroom), talk to the ghost who’s  been hanging around our split-level ranch for three years we’ve lived here and help her/him/it cross-over to other side. Any suggestions on what we could say to keep things on a positive level but convince them it’s time to go? I don’t want to frighten or anger them with any negative energy.
Batty,
Pittsburgh, PA

Dear Batty,
I had to do this very thing two years ago. It seems my sister, Blanche, just wasn’t ready to take her final bow. She kept hanging around, moping, using my eyebrow pencils at 3 a.m.  and pushing her old wheelchair ( which I keep around for toting empties back to the liquor store) down the stairs. It got oh so tiresome.

I got a few of my neighbors together, mostly people who wanted to see the inside of my house so they could tell everyone else about it on Twitter, and we all held hands (I wore gloves) and sat in a circle. I started out trying to use logic on her, pointing out that she was hanging around the sister who tried to feed her rats, tied her up, murdered her etc. etc. Big mistake – turns out people who turn into ghosts don’t really believe in logic.  Next, I listened to the walls and patted them while saying, “There, there, baby, it will be OK.” Nothing. So I started to sing and play the ballad rendition of “It’s Raining Men” I’d been working on and she disappeared for good. And so did all the neighbors, which was another good thing because they were starting to ask for things like food, water and where the bathroom was. So my advice is to sing. And maybe do some soft shoe.
Baby Jane

Dear Baby Jane,
Tonight is the big night but I can’t decide which sexy thing I want to be. My best friend wants us to be sexy kitties because its soooo easy and mainstream and we’ll probably get laid. But I want to be sexy iPhone in honor of Steve Jobs. We decided to let you make the call. Ha ha ha – pun intended!
Sexy Something Or Other
Appleton, WI

Dear Sexy Something,
Have you ever filled a bathtub with chocolate-covered cherries, gotten into it and then rolled around so that the chocolates spill out their syrupy, cheap cherry goodness? Then gotten out of the tub and sprayed yourself with a fixative or sealer? That, my dear, is a sexy costume. Unless, of course, you have access to a costume that looks like a tumbler of whiskey on the rocks.

Or, do you have something that would make you look like a cigarillo? Maybe a Swisher Sweet? Take me to Swishertown!

Baby Jane

Dear Baby Jane,
I was reading a list of top songs for Halloween – “The Monster Mash,” “Werewolves of London,” “Bark At the Moon,” – but noticed that you didn’t make the list with “I’ve Written a Letter to Daddy,” clearly one of the creepiest songs of all time. Not only does this seem like a major oversight it means that your legacy has not been secured. Do you worry about this?
Dumb Ditty
Portland, OR

Dear Dumb Dittie,
I’m not going to dignify this with a response other than to show you THIS:

I’ll bet you’re speechless. Ms. Bette Davis singing about me. Ha!
Baby Jane

Dear Baby Jane,
No matter what anyone says, to me Halloween is all about the candy. I’m crazy about it! I was just curious – what’s your favorite Halloween candy?
Sweet Tooth
Kalamazoo, MI

Dear Sweet Tooth,
Here’s what I’ll be handing out to all the kiddies who come by tonight:

Chocolate Liquor Bottles! One 64-count box for them and one 64-count box for me.

Baby Jane Recommends

Every Halloween I put on my Kim Carnes album and listen to “Bette Davis Eyes” while dancing in front of the windows with all the lights on. Just a little free entertainment for the neighbors.

As I’ve probably mentioned four dozen times, I luv Bette Davis. So I fully endorse this t-shirt, made by some people who call themselves Dolce & Gabbana.  Although it’s expensive, it’s a fitting and loving tribute to the greatest actress of all time (except for Kim Fields). Go check it out and buy one for when you’re lounging around the house with a dirty martini while viewing The Watcher In The Woods for the 27th time.

 

I Had To Look Away

This morning while doing my usual eat-oatmeal-drink-tea in front of the Today Show, I witnessed Alexis Stewart’s interview (along with her ex-collaborator, partner, friend, co-writer Jennifer Koppelman-Hutt) about her new book Whateverland, which is supposed to be about… advice? Funny stories? And a bit about Alexis Stewart’s mom, Martha? The interview got so tense I had to look away a couple of times and didn’t even catch exactly what the point of the book is.

What was odd as well was that Savannah Guthrie, someone I pegged as a lanky Pollyanna, really dug in and stayed with the embarrassing questions as if she were a lawyer for the prosecution.

If you’ve never seen anyone radiate anger/hatred/disgust, then watch Alexis in action in the video below. This is the entire first segment, including the intro, plus the segment the following hour when Alexis and Jennifer were supposed to answer viewer e-mail questions. Apparently, Alexis and her co-writer Hutt are no longer friends/partners/ collaborators and are not on speaking terms because that’s the way Alexis wanted it. They talked about it as if it were a divorce, Stewart saying that one day you look at your spouse and just say, “Oh, not anymore.”

Which begs the question of why both women agreed to come on and do the segment. Shouldn’t one of them have played sick? They acted as if they were incredibly evolved but I noticed that they could hardly look at one another.

Most baffling, to me, is that at every turn Alexis refutes everything she says in the book about her mom, claiming it’s all one big joke. But this is a woman who looks like she’s never laughed in her entire life. She did look a tiny bit sad (and dare I say sincere?) when she admitted that there were no “prepared foods” in her house – nothing to eat but the raw ingredients to, like, make stuff because her mom was busy. No prepared food in Martha’s house!

It reminds me of that riddle about the ocean that goes “Water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink.”

“Arugula, pecorino, peppercorns and vinaigrette everywhere but not a gourmet salad to eat!”

I’m not sure if appearances like this will help the book or not. While the break-up of the friendship could draw some people in, if they saw this interview they probably would not want their money to benefit Alexis (in the form of buying her book.) She’s just going to go out and spend it on leather leggings.

What I did enjoy was that Ben Stiller was sitting in the studio waiting to be interviewed about his new movie while this was going on and, when they cut to him following the interview, he looked as annoyed and confused as everyone else. At the end of his interview he said, “And I’d like to mention that my father dripped hot Chanukah candle wax on me as a child.”

The Wednesday Outlook: October 12, 2011

This is where the magic happens… or doesn’t happen, as the case may be. My corner of the world.

You’ll never guess who I woke up thinking about this morning. No, I mean, you really won’t guess. It’s not anyone currently on Dancing With The Stars. No, not Oprah. Not Steve Guttenberg.

Brian Dunkleman.

Dunkleman was on the first season of American Idol. He was Ryan Seacrest’s co-host. It seems strange now that they thought the job required two hosts. Maybe it was a season-long tryout. “Look, we can’t decided between the two of you so consider this season sort of a cage match to the death.”

[Click here for a photo of just how orange Ryan Seacrest was during Season 1.]

I watched that first season of American Idol and what I remember, more than any of the performances, etc., was Brian Dunkleman’s disappointed face. Or his angry face. Simon Cowle would do his Simon Shit and Dunkleman’s jaw would clench up and twitch, trying to hold it all inside.

Here is what it has to say about the situation on Wikipedia:

In appearances on The Howard Stern Show, he had insisted that he intended to leave Idol to pursue a career in stand-up comedy and acting, but in 2008, Dunkleman admitted to Stern that leaving the show was a mistake. Dunkleman conceded that he experienced several months of depression, and also still harbored resentment against current show host Ryan Seacrest, but has come to terms with his situation. Stern has compared Dunkleman to Pete Best of The Beatles and several other famous celebrities who chose to leave (or were forced to leave) successful show business careers, only to wind up as has-beens. Dunkleman good-naturedly put up with the ribbing from the Stern crew, but insisted he was happy with his current life.

Wow, Pete Best of The Beatles? Harsh.

Dunkleman still does stand-up comedy in L.A.

I recently saw a profile of Ryan Seacrest on CBS Sunday Morning and what I concluded after watching it was this: if you show up for things and work relentlessly, it sometimes does not matter if you have the personality of a shoebox. It really doesn’t. I mean, if you were a painter or a sculptor it would matter if you had no inherent talent, but not if you’re hosting New Year’s Eve broadcasts or producing meaningless reality TV shows.

In the interview, Seacrest denied the gay rumors and defended his relationship with Julianne Hough but I’ve read enough volumes of Hollywood Babylon to understand the concept of a career-boosting beard. He needs her and she definitely needs him. I wonder if there is some secret Hollywood Gay/Straight Relationship Broker you can call who then puts the word out.

“Trust me, I’ve done all the big ones. I lured in Katie Holmes for Tom Cruise- that was a coup. My first gig was Kelly Preston and John Travolta. My only mistake was Liza Minnelli and David Gest – that guy just can’t keep the closet door latched, if you know what I mean.”

In other news:

Reading: Just finished My Korean Deli, a memoir about a family who buys… uh… a deli. In Brooklyn. It was funny and also had a lot to say about the outlook and worldview of first generation immigrants and their children versus Protestant/Waspy people who’ve been here for awhile (the author is a Waspy Protestant whose ancestors landed in Plymouth and he married a Korean woman whose parents immigrated
to the U.S.).

Which reminds me of a strange run-in I had in front of a hardware store while working on a freelance writing assignment. I started talking to a guy who I thought could be useful for my assignment but a few minutes in it became clear that he was insane. Here is a sampling of his  thoughts:

Him: I miss 1962. That was the perfect year to live in Minneapolis. Everything was clean and beautiful and perfect and there were no immigrants.

Me: How old were you in 1962?

Him: Four.

Me: How do you remember 1962.

Him: Because I have a photographic memory! Where’s my landlord? He’ll tell you. I remember everything that ever happened to me.

[Landlord was shopping in the store, so unavailable to verify photographic memory.]

Him: I can say whatever I want because I’m part Native American. But I’m also English, Scottish and Welch. My people were not immigrants, they were pioneers. There’s a difference.

Me: How much Native American are you? Like, an eighth?

Him: One sixty-fourth. But it still counts. The problem with immigrants today is that they are opportunists. They just want to make money.

Me: What’s wrong with that? Everyone likes money.

Him: They should do that in their own countries.

Me: Maybe their own countries won’t allow them to.

Him: Well, that’s just too bad, isn’t it?

Then landlord appeared, saving me. Insane man toddled off to Great Harvest Bread for a free piece of bread.

Watching: Not nearly enough. Just finished watching all seasons of Arrested Development (ready and waiting for the new stuff, guys!) and also went to see 50/50, aka The Hipster Terms of Endearment. It was funny, well-acted, blah blah blah, but ultimately hyped too much. Poor storyline and use of the talented Dallas Bryce Howard as Evil Girlfriend Who Bails When She Feels Overwhelmed By Boyfriend’s Cancer. They really should have just outfitted her with devil ears, tail and pitchfork.

Doing: Excited for the Day of the Dead Sale at Zinnia Folk Arts at GUILD in St. Louis Park, the Twin Cities’ Vintage Clothing, Jewelry & Textile Sale at the State Fairgrounds on Friday and Saturday and the Twin Cities Book Festival on Saturday.

Also, still working on a novel. It’s called The Grand Tour and someday soon it will be finished (in rough draft form). That’s what I do a lot of the time in my corner of the world.

How Dare You?

I was messing around with my camera this morning, learning how to take a photo using the timer option. This one went off while I was trying to figure out what to do with my face and kind of showcases one of my natural expressions:

"You think you can mess with me? Huh?"

 

I like to call it the How Dare You! photo. “How dare you go off, camera, before I’m ready? I am disgusted with you.”

I think I could use this photo to get a job on a soap opera, if they weren’t all disappearing. Maybe a show like Ringer? BTW, they should have called that show Dead Ringer for more pizzazz. CSI? “Really, criminal? You really think you can fool us, the detective people?” I look as though I’m staring into the eyes of a worthless piece of scum, someone who lures children off playgrounds with the promise of Tootsie Rolls and photos of puppies.

I don’t think this is going on LinkedIn.

Also, through this process I re-discovered that one of my eyes is bigger than the other but if I have my head slightly tilted, it is harder to tell. I think this is valuable information.

Yeah No

Blah. If real moms are going to get shit for wearing Mom Jeans, then I don’t think young, hipster Non-Moms should get away with it either. And, let’s face it, this is ugly, proving that not everything can be co-opted by the young and waif-ish.

Fall Overhaul Part II – Fall Fashion

Somewhere along the way I got absorbed into a personal writing project and my Fall Overhauling and forgot to write this blog! I left off right after complaining about not fitting into my jeans from 2007, which is sort of an odd place to simply stop. To all (5) of my faithful readers, I apologize. Here’s what I’ve been up to:

Writing – 145 pages of fiction

Weight – down 5 lbs

Hunger – up 80%

Travel – a wonderful trip to glorious Winneconne, Wisconsin

TV watching – The New Girl, which I give a solid “B” for the pilot episode, Ringer with Sarah Michelle Gellar (I joined late and never did figure out what was going on, exactly), a shameful viewing of Dancing With the Stars.

Play watching – reasons to be pretty at the Guthrie Theater, put on by Walking Shadow Theatre Company, is excellent. So is the Thai food across the street at Kindee.

But what’s on my mind tonight is fashion. The September issues of fashion magazines can be daunting – all those ads sandwiching maybe 20 pages of editorial about what we should wear this fall and into winter. I’ve hardly gotten through them and it’s nearly October and time for another round. Sitting down with the September issue of Vogue can feel like curling up with the Yellow Pages and reading it cover to cover. After an hour, it’s all a blur of layers, patterns, bright lipstick, smudged eyes and towering shoes.

Although I have little money to spend on Fashion this fall, I am going to overhaul my closet for the change of season. Do you do that too? It’s something my mom taught me to do – there would be the semi-annual switch from winter to spring/summer and then from spring/summer back to fall/winter. The out-of-season clothing gets stored away in bins or suitcases to wait its turn again. I certainly don’t want to look at it – there’s something unsettling about seeing your winter sweaters on a warm spring day or catching sight of your sundresses in January.

So, starting tomorrow, my closet becomes a darker, warmer place. And what should I fill it with?

Well, that depends. Culling through the fall magazines, here are the major trends they would like us all to be aware of:

1. ANIMALS/ANIMAL PRINTS

Yes, you can still wear your cougar prints! Hooray! Zebra skin, alligator skin, leopard print, etc. all get the nod. But the bigger trend is to wear clothing with the entire animal represented on it. Big horse heads. Shoes that look like kitty cat faces on top. A zebra running across your t-shirt. A fox in your knitwear. I thought this would be played out already as this started showing up over a year ago but, apparently, it’s not. All the mags plus the Wall Street Journal have stories on it. (Have you ever checked out the style section in the WSJ? Not bad!) Except they only showcase things that cost a bazillion dollars because everyone who reads WSJ is rich, right?

But you don’t have to be super rich to embrace trends, if trends are your thing. Hit the thrift stores, where everyone has dumped their sweaters with big panther heads on them. Or, if you can’t take the time to dig, go to sites like ASOS and buy something more tasteful, like this Galloping Horse Print Shirt (I WANT.)

This brings us to our next trend, which is

2. FUR, FUZZY, WOOLEY

I know. Fur sucks. But I’m into faux fur as long as it doesn’t look like a stuffie one drooled on when one was three. Fur is BIG this year, sad to say. Even the vintage clothing stores and antique stores have brushed off the tiny fox faces and put out the stolls. If I wore one of those things, it would quickly devolve into a comedy routine in which my fox serves as my conscience and I consult him on every decision. “Should we eat that sweet roll, Foxy?” “Do I deserve a new pair of shoes, Foxy?” “Was that man rude to us just now, Foxy?” Sort of like whatever is going on here:

Marie Claire ran an article in its September issue about fur in which it quoted the Fur Council of Canada as saying, “Fur is a natural, renewable and sustainable resource,” and that new trapping regulations have resulted in as many beavers, muskrats, raccoons, coyotes and foxes as there were when the Europeans first arrived on the continent. Canadian school children are leading beavers around on strings and playing tag with foxes, there are so many just overrunning the country!

Seriously? As many as when Europeans first arrived? Huh. At least everyone still seems to be in agreement that there aren’t as many Native Americans as when Europeans first arrived.

Anyway, if you’re in the market for a faux fur vest, this vest from Nordstrom’s is along the lines of what you want  to go for. Not so much this version from JC Penney (I’ve got nothing against JC but this looks too fakey and screams COUGAR SNOWMOBILE PARTY OVER HERE!).

3. LACE

Do it up Stevie Nicks style, yo! A lace shirt and a dress is suddenly a must-have. I actually do enjoy this shirt, if only because it is understated and black:

Lace Shirt from ASOS

4. HATS

I don’t love me in a hat, so I don’t think I’ll be embracing this trend except to keep myself warm when it’s 20 degrees outside. Thanks a lot, Kate-person-who-got-married-and-everyone-wore-a-hat-to-your-wedding-including-the-two-royal-sisters-who-remind-me-of-the-ugly-stepsisters-from-Cinderella. Besides wearing a vintage hat can seem awfully pretentious sometimes unless it’s for a hat party at which everyone else is also wearing a hat while standing around eating nachos.

5. DROPPED HEMLINES

Drop ’em, ladies. Just when you got your legs all toned up from kettlebells, pilates, yoga, what-have-you, it’s now in fashion to wear your hemline at your knees, minimum, and mid-calf or longer if you’re so cool it hurts. I’m kind of excited. How long has it been since I’ve heard something like this: “A covered-up silhouette feels more confident right now and definitely cooler.” – the Proenza Schouler designers. Was it back in 1918? Covered up is cooler? I can handle that. I did just find a sweet sequined mini-skirt at an antique store for $15 but as long as I wear tights and a tuxedo jacket with it, I think I’ll be forgiven.

6. “NOUVEAU NATIVE”

Don’t look at me, I didn’t coin this phrase. Anything “ethnic” is hot for fall. Any kind of colorful print, anything with fringes, blanket coats, leather… basically, you want to look like you cut up a teepee and wrapped it around you. Or you just got back from your humanitarian work in Africa and, oh, look at this cute dress you found in the marketplace that happens to go with your Jimmy Choos. I don’t know why I’m sounding so bitter about it – I actually think all this stuff is pretty but I resent the prices they put on it. How many colorful beaded belts and bracelets have I seen over the years discarded at the thrift stores (you know those leather belts with someone’s name spelled out in them in a panel of seed beads – maybe I should start buying them and be “LISA” or “DIANE”)? People, I don’t even know what to collect anymore.

Poncho from Zara.com

Which brings me to a bigger point – if you aren’t someone who would normally embrace ethnic prints or wear a heavily fringed jacket, please don’t start now. It will just look wrong.

You know how sometimes you’ll buy a box of crackers and on the front it will have a photo of the crackers all doctored up with cheese and some nicely sliced fruit? And if you read the tiny print on the box next to the photo it will say “serving suggestion?” That’s all trends are. Serving suggestions. You can ponder them. Think about if you would like them. But you don’t have to do it! Just because they show a Triscuit with a slender cutting of cheddar and half of a grape doesn’t mean you’re required to eat them that way. If you want to eat them at all. Triscuits – gross!

And if you do go through with a trend (I’m talking trend, not a classic piece you can wear for years), you have to make it your own and not spend a ridiculous amount of money on it. Example – in Marie Claire (I don’t know why I keep picking on Marie Claire when Vogue and Elle provide just as much fodder) there was an article about buying one fall “investment” and then wearing it three ways. One “investment” was a huge t-shirt by Givenchy by Riccardo Tisci of a Rottweiler face. The t-shirt is $265. Apparently, one can wear it with shorts, with jeans and a tuxedo jacket (you do have your tuxedo jacket, don’t you?) or with leather pants.

This is the shirt:

Well, I don’t care what you pair it with, if I see you coming with that Rottweiler t-shirt for the fifth day in two weeks, I’m going to be over it. Poor investment. Why not hit a thrift store instead and buy a t-shirt with a big whale on it? Or a tiger? I could find you a whale t-shirt in 30 seconds, it will cost you a few bucks and you can style it just as well and then use it to scrub your toilet when you tire of it. And it will look cool, I promise. Or totally uncool, if that’s your goal.

I don’t want to end on a diatribe, so let me name another trend that’s easy to like.

7. POLKA DOTS

If you don’t enjoy polka dots, you were born with a stone for a heart. Big polka dots, little ones. Mixed and matched ones. Polka-dotted pants. Dresses. Umbrellas. Pajamas. It will make you feel good.

As for me and my Closet Overhaul, here are some pieces I’ll be wearing this fall:
Knee-length, pleated skirts in bright purple and black
Velvet blazer in navy blue, purchased from vintage store in Oshkosh, WI
Men’s button-down shirts with patterns or texture, must be vintage and cotton. Think Tobias from Arrested Development. I nearly always want what he’s wearing in an episode. Except for those cut-offs.
Brown oxford shoes by Frye
Tights, tights, tights
Sequins, sequins, sequins. I’m like a crow attracted to shiny objects.
Boots in brown and black
Jeans – trouser cut (but let’s face it, the second I can get into “skinny” jeans, I’m going for it)
Black turtleneck sweater with long sleeves that come all the way past my wrists. Covered up is cooler.
Vintage dresses. I have a ton of them – Who needs to shop for “40s dresses” (another trend)?
Suede car coat with faux fur raccoon-ish collar and cuffs purchased from antique mall
Plastic and metal bangles going all up my arms like Nancy Cunard!

Now here's a woman who knows how to wear a bracelet or 20.

My investment piece is going to be a pair of well-made, tailored trousers that will go with anything and that I will wear until I’m 85.

I leave you with an image of a man who is not afraid to rock a fur coat:

It's OK! There are still lots of furry animals in Canada!

 

99 Projects: Calling Card

Project # 5: Calling Card

I’ve been into the idea of making a calling card for a long time. I like the idea of a simple card with just a name and a way to get in touch with someone. Not a business card, mind you, although they have their place (when I was looking at card ideas online, I came across this post with all these fab designs for business cards, some more successful than others). In the old-timey days, calling cards could be as simple as this:

Right now I am looking for a job and have no “business card” to hand out. That’s why I’m happy to have my new calling card. The last time I did have a business card to hand out, I hated that card. It didn’t say anything about me. Even the title, thought up by my boss, was embarrassing to me. The interesting thing about that card was that it became completely useless as soon as I didn’t have the job anymore – there was no “me” in that card at all. It belonged to the business.

A “calling card” or personal card doesn’t put a business or a title first, which seems counter-intuitive to the way we live now. But according to the branding and social media gurus, we should meld our business with our play, our social media accounts with our work personna – every representation of ourselves should be another piece that contribute to a concise, branded whole. What you put forward first does matter – is it the company you work for or YOU?

Calling cards are perfect for introducing yourself in a more personal way. {You can read about the history of the calling card here.]

If you’re like me (when employed) you don’t want to be in work mode all the time or worrying about your “personal brand.” Many times I’ve thought that my personal brand should just be “Messy.” I don’t want to feel that others are always evaluating what I do in my private life in terms of my “brand,” and I try not to do this to other people. What I mean is, sometimes you just want to hand people a card that has your name and contact info on it and a little hint of what you’re about.

Also, if someone hands you a business card, you can’t help but make a judgement about them based on their job. We’re only human! You now know what they do for money and, yes, it’s probably a big part of who they are but let’s hope it’s not the entire picture. On the other hand, if someone hands me a calling card or personal card, there seems to be more to discover and find out. A calling card says, “Hello, this is me. Want to know more?” while a business card, depending on your profession, can instantly put you into a box people aren’t that excited to open.

Maybe the solution is to have two cards one can hand out according to one’s discretion. What do I want this person to know about me? How do I want to be perceived by them?

Anyway, this is a long way of explaining that I finally made my own calling card to hand out to people I find interesting and want to get to know. Here it is, literally larger-than-life, in digital form:

I’m not a graphic designer by any means but I knew that I wanted it to have a drawing on it to give it that old-timey feel and I wanted it to have minimal text – just options for ways to get in touch with me and/or find out more about me (this blog and my Twitter account.)

If you’re interested, here is what I did to make it:

  • First, I used an antique playing card with a drawing of a bear on it as inspiration and drew a bear of my own, using that one as a model but adding the heart and loops. I did this in pencil and then I went over it in ink. This was important to me in order for the drawing to have a sketchy look.
  • Next, I scanned the drawing and brought it into Illustrator to make it into a vector using the live trace feature.
  • I used live paint to make the heart red. I could have added more color but I didn’t want to take away from the simplicity of the drawing. Keep it simple.
  • I re-sized the bear to fit onto a standard card and then set up my card in InDesign, putting several copies of it “up” on a page.
  • I had them printed at a print shop because I didn’t want to mess around with home printing and cutting, which would have made them look a bit too homemade. Even when using a paper cutter, I manage to cut things crooked. I had them printed on extra thick card stock – thicker than the usual business card stock – and went with a matte finish instead of shiny.

 

It was my hope to have them printed on a letterpress but it’s not in the cards (ha ha ha – see how I did that) right now due to the expense. I did spend a lot of time looking at the sites for Studio On Fire and Lunalux, two shops in Minneapolis, and am amazed at how awesome their work is.  In fact, check out these calling cards from the Lunalux site – they are simple and chic and show that fancy graphics or drawings are not at all necessary.

I definitely aspire to letterpress cards on a heavy linen-like stock. But a gal’s gotta start where she can… and dream.

Maybe by the time I hand out all 500 of these cards, I’ll be in a position to upgrade!

Now Can You Hand Jive, Baby?

I learned over the weekend that Annette Charles, the actress who played Cha Cha DiGregorio in Grease, died from cancer.

From Access Hollywood (I know, I know):

Annette, who famously danced with John Travolta in the classic movie musical and told the movie’s Pink Ladies, “They call me Cha Cha because I’m the best dancer at St. Bernadette’s,” was also a speech professor at California State University Northridge, in Northridge, Calif., following her career on the big screen.

Annette quit acting sometime in the 80s and went on to graduate from the NYU School of Social Work in 2001, then became a professor.

I can’t tell you what an impact Cha Cha had on me as a child seeing Grease in the theater. I know it sounds strange, but I found Cha Cha to be exhilarating and even a bit scary. She was rough, sure of herself and sexy. I love the scene at the school dance competition when she steals the show dancing the “hand jive” with Danny. It seemed delicious and wicked, something no “nice girl” would ever do.

When my sister and I played Grease at home, I was always Danny and she got to be Sandy. This was because I had dark hair and she had blond hair. But the truth of the matter was that, while I was also awed by her in the final scenes of the movie, I would have made a crap Sandy. I was not soft and pleasant. I was not a “girly girl” and I really had no interest in that.

I probably identified more with Cha Cha, the bad girl I was always just a bit too shy and unsure of myself to become.

As a movie-goers, I felt like I was supposed to be against Cha Cha – the temptress, the villain. But I’ve always loved a villain, even at age five. And Cha Cha did not disappoint. I had never seen dancing like that – she takes a fake slap across the face! She picks up her dress and exposes her (full-coverage) underwear! She writhes across the floor and between Danny’s legs and then snatches the trophy at the end. It was all too much.

Oh, that moment when Danny, caught up in the moment, starts dancing with Cha Cha without giving Sandy another thought! Haven’t we all been there, ladies? A sliver of the bad girl in me never felt bad for Sandy as she ran from the gym.

This movie electrified me. My sister and I listened to the album over and over again after first seeing i, essentially wearing it out. I’ve seen the movie more times than I can count, can say many of the lines, know all the songs and yet I never tire of watching Cha Cha’s big dance number. I also remember hoping, please God, that Grease would be exactly what high school was like. Please let me wear a big, poofy dress and flip over someone’s back at the school dance!

It didn’t turn out that way but it doesn’t matter. I still have Grease.

Rest in peace, Annette, and thank you for a memorable movie.

 

The Ghosts Of Minnesotan Preps Past

While paging through my copy of The Official Preppy Handbook, edited by Lisa Birnbach, as I’m wont to do from time to time, I came across the section titled “Where The Preps Are: A City By City Going Out Guide,” which is exactly what it says it is – a listing of cities and then a preppy establishment one could visit each day of the week.

I quickly flipped to the listings for Minneapolis/St. Paul. It was, as one might expect, a rather sad offering. We haven’t had any truly big prep action here since F. Scott Fitgerald left, but it inspired me to see if it might be possible to still visit the places listed (the list was compiled in 1980.)

Now, Ms. Birnback did come out with an updated preppy guide just last year, the great True Prep. Alas, Minnesota has not a mention in the book – no listings for vintage clothing stores, city clubs or even places to practice one’s shooting or go fishing! It’s a sad state of affairs and I can’t really blame her for the omissions.

In any case, here is a look at the prep hang-outs of the past in Mpls/St. Paul.

1. W.A. Frost & Company, 374 Selby Avenue, St. Paul

Description from book: St. Paul’s bid for acceptance. Proto-Prep. Pickups.

I was just there! The gorgeous patio was entirely full on a Thursday evening – both for dinner and on the bar side. We ended up sitting down in a nook in the basement and fetching our own drinks up at the bar when we wanted them, which was fine for us but not great for people watching. However, in true prep spirit, I ordered a Tom Collins and can highly recommend it. Overall, this establishment is alive and well and still a place for those striving for acceptance. I even saw a guy wearing yellow jeans, rolled up, with Sperry Top Siders standing across the street!

2. Haberdashery, 45 South 7th Street, Minneapolis

Description: Formerly the home (for more than half a century) of a very Prep clothing store, Hubert W. White, original brass and wood fittings still here. Bar.

Alas, the Haberdashery is no more. It is now the site of a Radisson, possibly the same Radissson where Marge meets her high school “friend” Mike Yanagita in the movie Fargo. This is sad to me because the Haberdashery sounds like a very cool place. I like the idea of clothing stores that also have a bar. Why not make getting a suit or dress an occasion?

When you say “Haberdashery” in the Twin Cities, most of us now think of another great store, Heimie’s Haberdashery in St. Paul, located at 400 St. Peter Street. This is definitely worth a visit if you’re a guy in the market for upscale, well-made clothing or an old-fashioned shave.

FYI, clothes with labels from Hubert W. White show up at Twin Cities estate sales and sometimes thrift stores quite often.

3. University Club, 420 Summit Avenue, St. Paul

Description: Traditional men’s club, fallen onto hard times, now (discreetly) open to the public, for dinner, lunch and room accommodations.

While not big on website design, the Club is indeed still going. Now, of course, it’s open to the ladies. In fact, it’s open to entire families. It is not, however, open to the public for dinner and lunch but anyone, presumably, can rent rooms there for events, like weddings, birthday parties, meetings of your secret society. Members can have dinner there in three different rooms – the Ramsey, the Club or the Fireside. I wish that last one was called Ironsides.

4. The Commodore, 79 Western Avenue, St. Paul

Description: Restored hotel, bar mecca of 1920’s  Prep revival. F. Scott Fitzgerald himself used to frequent the place. Need we say more?

The Commodore is part of the University Club’s holdings. It’s not open to the public; one cannot wander in and rent a room. It is available for events. From the website: “All four banquet rooms flow into each other and provide a lovely setting for luncheons, dinners and receptions of all kinds for up to 350 people.” The original Art Deco Bar has been preserved and is fabulous (it was untouched in the great explosion and fire at the Commodore in 1978!) For awhile, it was open on the first Monday of the month  for some sort of craft bazaar and cocktail hour that I always meant to go to simply to be able to see the room, but that has now ended.

Here is a pic from the website:

4. Windfield Potters, 210 S. E. 2nd Avenue, Minneapolis

Description: Cashing in on 1980’s Prep revival, this is the place to go for drinks at the end of the work week. Help is required to wear Weejuns, khakis and Lacostes.

This restaurant had quite a following back in the day – it currently has a Facebook group called Winfield Potters Friends for those who used to gather there. Alas, this place no longer exists. It’s now the site of an office building. However, they did preserve the large patio/courtyard that used to be a big summer hangout and you can go see it. There is a plaque there commemorating the site. Also, Windfield Potters was used for the interior shots for the bar in Beautiful Girls – you know that scene where they all end up singing “Sweet Caroline?” That interior is the restaurant (the exterior shot they show is actually a different location in Stillwater). So I guess if you want to get some idea of what it was like inside, you have to watch the movie.

Coincidentally, the co-0wner of the restaurant, David Potter Webb, just died. He owned several restaurants throughout the city  through the years and seems like he was a cool guy. His obituary is here, in the Star Tribune.

5. Calhoun Beach Club, 2730 W. Lake Street, Minneapolis

Description: Upwardly mobile lawyers, etc., play tennis, squash and swim. Built in 1920s, formerly a Grand Hotel. Since no golf, members mostly 25-40.

This place has been around for a long time. It’s now on the National Register of Historic Places and has served as everything from a social club, hotel, home to WTCN TV and radio stations, a home for the elderly to a sports club. Now it’s the site of a fitness club and luxury apartment homes. I love it when they call them “apartment homes,” as if just apartment implies something much less than one’s home. To go to the fitness club/spa/pool/what-have-you, one needs to be a member.

Of course you can have your wedding here (where can’t one have a wedding these days?) and you may opt for the Hidden Terrace if you’re having a smallish affair. Click here for a 360 degree view of said terrace.

However, you can get some of the ambiance of the place by eating at the street-level restaurant, which just became the Urban Eatery after being View after being Dixie’s Calhoun for a long time. I don’t think many preps hang here, per say, put if you squint your eyes I’m sure your fellow dinners will look like they are wearing Fair Isle cardigans with pearls or Lacoste shirts.

6. Woodhill Country Club, 200 Woodhill Road, Wayzata

Description: Private. Old-line. Highest proportion of real Preppies in area. Suburban.

Of course Woodhill is still there. Don’t be silly. It will be there long after America is no longer America. And the description still holds true – if you want true Preppiness in the TC, you really have to go out to Wayzata.

How To Have A Trashy Book Club

A primer for anyone who wants to start a club that reads books with little literary value but lots of smut, rock-n-roll, mental breakdowns, drugs and narcissism.


One of my favorite quotations is from Gertrude Stein:

“You should only read what is truly good or what is frankly bad.”

What is truly good is a very subjective thing. As it turns out, what is frankly bad is much easier to agree upon. Several years ago, I started a Trashy Book Club with some friends of mine. The mission was to read bad books and watch the accompanying movie when available.

We’ve had our ups and downs over the years but eight of us are still hangin’ tough. I’m getting ready to host book club this Saturday for the book I’m With the Band by Pamela Des Barres (movie will be Almost Famous, game will be “Name That 70s Rock Tune”) and the process of getting ready has me thinking about how much I’ve come to love this group.

So, if you’ve had enough of The Kite Runner, Bel Canto, The Help, Middlemarch, Water For Elephants, Three Cups of Tea (bet you feel burned by that one!), Eat, Pray, Love and My Sister’s Keeper, maybe it’s time for you, too, to embrace The Trash.

Here are some Trashy Book Club Pointers, which were devised with the help of my fellow members, to get you started.

1. Form your Trash Club with friends, people you’ve had some face time with or people who come recommended by friends. And once your group is going, choose new members carefully.

This sounds harsh, but it’s important that everyone have a sense of humor and understands that the group will not be reading Life of Pi. You might think that just about anyone could get into a trashy book club but you’d be wrong. Case in point: we had one early group member who never quite grasped the concept of the trashy book club and was confused and shocked when we did a live reading of our favorite scene from The Howling for a Halloween meeting. She never attended again.

Another thing to know: most trashy books have some sex (we hope) but they also have incest, bestiality and, for some reason, a whole lot of rape. Once we counted up and realized that most of our books contained a rape scene, a reference to rape or hinted at rape and this was not something we were seeking out by any means. So, as Flavor Flav says, considered yourselves warned.

2. Resolve to keep it trashy. As our group member April said, “Beware attempts to class it up, even ‘just this once.’  We know our fellow members are smart, and that they can and do read ‘real books.’ That’s kind of the point.” Yes, our group has slipped on more than one occasion, which is fine. The last thing you want is a pedantic trashy book club. But one lit slip must be quickly remedied with several trashy books. If Sylvia Plath slips in (or, shudder, Agatha Christie), make sure you read something like one of several (hundred?) in Susan Mallery’s Sheik romance series. Try out The Sheik and the Bought Bride, for instance.

3. Watch the movie. It’s fun to trash the trashy book and then get mad that they didn’t follow the book when they made the trashy movie version! If the trashy book in question has no movie version then pick a random trashy movie that may or may not have anything to do with the book. Two of our best movies, in my opinion, The Baby (1973) and Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970) were not really connected to anything we read.

4. Always serve alcohol (and food) (and order pizza). Our meetings are not Get Trashed at Trashy Book Club sessions (except for this past July when we had access to a pool and a lot of booze) but a glass of wine helps get someone in the mood to discuss the sex-when-she-had-her-period/tampon scene in Endless Love. As my group member Kate says, “Check your self-consciousness at the door!”

5. Book quizzes with prizes are fun. Don’t underestimate how much people like to win stuff.

6. Celebrate your group milestones. Our group met for the first time in December of 2006. Our first book was Flowers In the Attic, one of the best trashy books of all time. Since then we celebrate every December with a larger feast than usual, a look back at the year that was, a group photo and we draw months to see when each of us will host (we are trashy but also organized and busy) during the coming year. Being the book nerd that I am (yes, I also love to organize closets), I try to circulate a list of Trashy Book Suggestions that I’ve compiled but the host of the month chooses the book and movie and the rest of us vow not to complain (sometimes).

7. Don’t overlook memoirs! Some of our best reads have been trashy memoirs and bios. Many “rock stars” like to write tell-alls.

8. Theme food helps bring on the party atmosphere. You’ll score points for making that Valley of the Dolls pill-shaped cake or for bringing a baggie of powdered sugar for Less Than Zero.

Now, what books might you choose to get your trashy book club going? It depends a lot on your idea of trash and what you have a predilection for. Luckily, there are no shortages of bad books in all kinds of categories. But here are some of our picks that I’ve enjoyed and that could serve as a primer for a trashy book club:

Flowers in the Attic by V.C. Andrews
Valley of the Dolls by Jacqueline Susann
Mommy Dearest by Christine Crawford
Wifey by Judy Blume
The Howling by Gary Brandler
Tom Cruise: The Unauthorized Biography by Andrew Morton
Sex and the Single Girl by Helen Gurley Brown
Hollywood Wives by Jackie Collins
I’m With the Band by Pamela Des Barres

And here is some trash we haven’t read that I’m hoping to get to:

Goodbye, Janette – Harold Robbins
The Love Machine – Jacqueline Susann
Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus – John Gray (explore the area of self-help trash!)
Some Girls: My Life In a Harem – Jillian Lauren
One Lifetime Is Not Enough – Zsa Zsa Gabor
Fall To Pieces – Mary Weiland
Tommyland – Tommy Lee
Anything by Tori Spelling
I Just Want You To Know: Letters To My Kids – Kate Gosselin
Hammer of The Gods – Stephen Davis
Hollywood Babylon I, II, III – Kenneth Anger (OK, I’m cheating because I’ve read them but they are, by far, some of the best, trashiest books out there. It’s like reading a hard bound version of a lengthy US Magazine written in 1975).

So don’t get classy, get trashy!

Wasting Time

It’s Monday and, while I try not to make this blog all about me and my personal life, I feel like crap today.

I made this amazing batch of French-style vanilla ice cream yesterday and ate some with a cookie and immediately felt WEIRD. Totally wired and kind of nauseous. The ice cream did not have a similar effect on Keith. Now the ice cream is lurking in my freezer and I’m scared to eat it lest I burst into flames or shake uncontrollably. This morning I woke up convinced that I had developed diabetes.

I never said I was a rational person.

Because a rational person would probably not embark on a 3-hour hike at Afton State Park in the hot sun after eating suspect ice cream and come home completely exhausted, watch two episodes of Louie and pass out.

Anyway, yesterday when we were driving through Hastings I saw Omar Avenue and got excited. Omar Little! My favorite character from The Wire.

A well-timed “Omar comin’!” still makes me laugh.

So the excitement ramped up when I saw that the next street was Odell Avenue (named after, I’m sure, Odell Watkins, a minor character from The Wire but memorable).

Because I am trying to find any excuse to do nothing today, I checked Google Maps to see what other streets around that area are called. It revealed that this was not a subdivision named after all the characters from the show – it is only those two streets. There was no McNulty Court or Rawls Road. Bummer.

But then I started looking throughout Minnesota to see how we pay tribute to one of the best shows on TV, ever. And here are my results:

Moreland Circle in West St. Paul is named after Det. William “Bunk” Moreland, played by Wendell Pierce.

Daniels Street in Long Lake commemorates Lt. Cedric Daniels, played by Lance Reddick

Perlman Street in St. Paul, right off of West 7th Street, is for the lovely, ginger-haired Assistant State’s Attorney Rhonda Perlman, played by Deirdre Lovejoy.

We’ve dedicated the entire city of Carver to Sgt. Ellis Carver, played by Seth Gilliam.

The character of Det. Lester Freamon means so much to us that he has two streets: Lester Street in Duluth and Lester Avenue in Hastings (way to go, Hastings, that’s your THIRD street named after a Wire character – keep it going!)

We love our villains, too. We have Avon Avenue in Avon, Minnesota to commemorate Avon Barksdale, played by Wood Harris. And to honor Russell “Stringer” Bell we have no less than three Bell Streets, located in Eden Valley, St. Bonifacius and Belgrade.

The great Clay Davis is commemorated with Davis Street in Mankato.

Finally, my very favorite, to honor the homeless junkie, Bubbles, played by Andre Royo, we have Bubbles Lake in the Superior National Forest near Stony River, MN. I like to think that Bubbles, after a stay at one of Minnesota’s many rehab centers, might camp on the shore of this very lake, thinking things over and finding himself at a new beginning.

I searched in vain for anything named after McNulty in our state. The same goes for Rawls, Gregg and Hauk.

 

 

99 Projects: Garden Shelf

Project #4: Redo of the Abandoned Shelf In The Garage

When we bought our house, the people who lived here before us didn’t bother to clean out the garage when they left. Too much effort. Better to just leave it filled with detritus that we would deal with in the years to come.

Some stuff has been cleared out but much still remains. It’s the space that I think I’ve spent time cleaning and organizing until I go out there and really LOOK. It looks the same as it did a year or two ago. And then I might throw away one thing and split because it really harshes my mellow.

So it took much energy to haul this out of the garage into the bright light of day:

This shelf was the happy home for Collection of Old Paint Cans. One of them merrily wept its orange goo on the bottom shelf for many years. I have now gotten rid of every paint can in the garage and it left this shelf just sitting there. It is a very sturdy shelf.

So this is what it’s doing these days, a round of sanding and several cans of spray paint later:

The metal frame was fun to sand and spray paint. The shelves of wood kinda sucked. But I love the results.

I’ve got this awful old cement “patio” and steps that really, really need to be redone but the Year of Unemployment lingers on and it ain’t happening this summer so… this is what I call a Distracting Element that draws one’s eye away from the crumbling, cracking mess.

I took the above photo this morning and then I turned around and took this one:

"I good dog. Why you give bath? You hate?"

I’m With The Engineers & Programmers

In the 1970s and early 80s, Patty Des Berg became the most notorious high tech groupie in the United States. Based  in Silicon Valley, she gravitated to wherever the party was – New Mexico, Bellevue, Washington and even New York. Her autobiography, I’m With The Engineers & Programmers, was recently published by Knopf and includes excerpts from the journals she kept during the heady early days of Apple, Xerox, Microsoft and even Atari.

What follows is a selection of her most poignant entries:

April 4, 1975 – Candy and I hitched out to New Mexico because she said she knew some hot guys. I didn’t believe her at first but I have met the greatest computer engineers alive. First off, I will make Bill Gates my lover, he is such a doll. Paul Allen is SEX. I took one look at Bill with his lean slender body and kind of large head and his doe-like eyes and knew it was fate that brought me there, to the men of Microsoft.

August 2, 1975 – George Laurer and I counted all the way up to good old number 69 tonight, if you know what I mean. I was panting hot and heavy, aflame with desire. He took me to a tattoo parlor and I got a tiny UPC code on my ass. Happiness is IBM.

Sept. 24, 1975 – Palo Alto time! It is all too excellent. So many love orgies. Everybody loves everybody. I was with Doug at PARC and he set me up with a Xerox Alto. I’m not supposed to tell anyone and I won’t. I put it in the dining room where I’m crashing with Candy.

Oct. 12, 1975 – Heavy necking with Nolan in his Nova, then he wanted to go back inside to play Pong with the boys. I called the next day but he had already left. What a drag.

March 4, 1976 – Mobo and I ran into Candy on Alma and she told us Nolan is a millionaire. Warner Com. bought Atari for $28 million. Big party at Folgers Mansion. I’ve never seen true insanity until now. Nolan took a full bottle of beer and threw it at Candy’s head and when she screamed that it wasn’t very nice of him, he said, “I know. I take full responsibility.” I split that scene and went to the game room where Al Alcorn was putting on a Pong display. Al Alcorn! I really grooved with him.

April 4, 1976 – I like the PARC guys but they are obsessed with the future and GUI. I met a guy from Stanford, Dean Hovey, who gave me 152,000 goosebumps telling me about his ideas for experimental pointing-devices. Just to be a part of this scene makes me want to scream and cry. I asked Dean if he thought his ideas would one day go nationwide and he said, “THE COUNTRY IS READY!”

July 31, 1976 – Bill Gates is coming to town today. I don’t know whether I want to be with him or not. Why is he so perverted? Or maybe he’s not? Maybe that’s just a rumor…

August 2, 1976 – I’m in the limo while Bill picks up our order at In-N-Out. Here he comes!

August 8, 1976 – We got carried away into some enchanted fairy land. Our bodies were meant to be one. He held my face and said, “This is all I want to look at, besides OS, for the rest of my days.” Yes yes yes, Mr. Gates!

November 1, 1976 – No word from my demented prince for days and days. I ate so much hash while trying not to think of Bill. Mobo and I went to the Commodore party and the STEVES from Apple were there. I was dancing in my low-cut dress and I could feel his (SJ’s) eyes on me and when the song ended he came over and said, “Hello, lovely lady,” and bowed and kissed my hand. Oh, those lips!

January 10, 1977 – I can’t resist Steve J. much longer. He invites me to his bed day after day and I try to be true to my DOS Prince, but to no avail when he won’t even return my phone calls. I was aching for Steve last night. He said, “I really dig you, you know.” What is Bill doing right this minute?

February 23, 1977 – SJ flew me in for the NY press conference to roll out Apple II. Color graphics! Open architecture! Steve is truly amazing, brilliant, spiritually evolved. He was wearing jeans and tennis shoes – it was the most sensual thing I’ve ever seen. The Woz came up to me afterward and said  he’s never seen SJ so happy as when he’s with me… and that he approves! Will my last name be J-O-B-S some day?

August 4, 1977 – Got really high and ate pizza at Nolan’s Chuck E. Cheese. Jasper T. Jowls came alive and tried to swallow my head and I screamed and fell down, dissolving into a puddle on the floor and no one could help me. I cried for hours and Nolan held my hand. I truly thought I was dying. I slept for 14 hours in my dress and lace-up boots.

January 2, 1978 – Bill is in town and hasn’t called. DOES NOT COMPUTE.

March 14, 1978 – Gary at Xerox gave me a private demo of the 9700. He wanted to give me his ID bracelet and he said, “I love you, but quietly.” I can’t tell him that when I look at him I still see SJ and Bill. Never have I known such indecision. I cry ten gallons of tears.

March 23, 1979 – Flew to Bellevue to confront Bill but he was in meetings with execs from IBM so I sat with Paul in his office. He caressed my cheek and kissed me and said, “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.” I’m tortured and thrilled at the same time. Never got to see Bill so I said, “What the hell?” and slept with Paul. We made TV dinners, watched “The Dukes of Hazard” and made lots of love. Paul really gets me OFF.

April 17, 1979 – SJ invited me to tour PARC with him. I’ve been there a zillion times but he never has. I acted surprised by all we saw but it was dead to me. I pretended not to know Gary Starkweather so SJ would not be hurt. At the end of the tour SJ wanted to do some blow and I had to tell him that I’m having a baby. “Whose baby?” he said. I said I’m not sure and he looked at me so sad. No matter how much code I learn, how many scans I run on my motherboards or how many poems I write about direct and indirect manipulation, I feel him slipping away.

 

*Much gratitude to the book I’m With The Band by Pamela Des Barres for inspiration and guidance.

Things I Try Not To Notice And/Or Mind (Often Unsuccessfully) At The Beach

1. The guy who just spit in the sand.

2. The woman who smokes a cigarette while standing in the water.

3. The many strange skin conditions. Many people are no strangers to pus.

4. The police officer who spit in the water while waiting for the two guys he’s busting for open beers to pack up their didgeridoos.

5. That stuff – plant matter, insects, old cig butts – can get caught in dreadlocks while swimming and must be picked out by friends/significant others, making the friend/significant other look  like a chimpanzee grooming another chimp.

6. It is still fashionable to talk about Burning Man?

7. There is a high concentration (73.3%) of homemade tie dyed t-shirts, much higher than in the general U.S. population (4.2%).

8. The preteen with ice cream all over his face is going to use the lake as his wash basin.

9. There are 4, 322 cigarette butts within one square foot of this towel.

10. There is one Port-O-Pot and it smells. There are at least one hundred people. The rate of people using the Port-O-Pot is one every half hour. Where is all the pee going? Oh…

11. There are people willing to canvas door-to-door. There are people willing to network at the beach in order to get such a job.

12. 98% of the population now has a tattoo. Does this make those of us without tattoos the exotic ones now?

13. The tattoo of a tree going up that woman’s spine looks as if it was done with an upholstery needle and a bowl of ink.

14. Armpit hair on women. Like two tiny crotches under the arms.

15. A fat teen boy may have larger breasts than I do.

16. The cigarette that woman was smoking while standing in the water is gone but she’s still in the water. I hope she ate it.

17. The Peace Bears look restless. The Drum Circle plots war. The Didgeridoos were kicked out.

18. The man who looks like George Carlin points out we’re all swimming together in a big bathtub. Then the crabs in his beard pop out and wave hello.

19. I thought this suit with the little skirt was “cute.” The correct term is “matronly.”

20. If you dig just two feet down in the sand, you will find a full set of human teeth, car keys, used condoms and a ticket to the Rolling Stones “Steel Wheels” tour from the summer of 1989.

21. The 25-year-old hipster is wearing the glasses I had in fourth grade. I thought we donated them to the Lions Club?

22. That dog peed in the water. The Port-O-Pot was busy.

* All list points provided by patrons of Hidden Beach, Cedar Lake, Minneapolis.

99 Projects: Gnome Terrarium

Project 3: Gnome Terrarium for my sister’s birthday

I had a bunch of gnomes that I bought a long time ago, saving them up for something. They are all holding gardening tools so this seemed like the perfect opportunity to create a gnome tableau.


The big globe/fishbowl is from the ARC thrift store and was 99 cents!

The plants are all succulents or sedum (stonecrops) from the Crassulaceae family – they store water in their leaves. These plants would not do well in a more traditional closed terrarium environment because it would get too wet. But the top is open and it will do great in a sunny spot with the occasional spray down with a spray bottle – definitely don’t need to dump water on this one!

The plants are draba aizoides, rupturewort, rosularia, sedum japonicum (“Tokyo sun”), mini hen and chicks and “jade towers.”

It will be interesting to see how big this stuff gets…

The Elusive Bucket List

Although there are more pressing matters at hand, I’ve got to get to work on my Bucket List. I thought such things would have faded away by now but everyone in America (and Australia) seems to not only have such a list but has put it online and differentiated between the items that have, and those that have not, been accomplished. I’m starting to feel as though not having a list with at least 47 items on it, with at least one check off,  is a shortcoming.

Interestingly enough, I recently learned about the origin of this pop culture phrase. When screenwriter Justin Zackham was putting together his list of “things to do before he kicked the bucket,” one of the items was “Write A Really Annoying Movie That Would Serve As a Vehicle For Two Once Vibrant But Now Fading Actors.” Voila! The movie The Bucket List was born, changing the lives of middle-aged people across the nation.

[By the way, I would be more excited about Zackham’s TV show Lights Out if it starred Tony Danza as the former heavyweight boxing champ struggling to find his identity after the ring AND if that new identity turned out to be being a nanny and housekeeper for two precocious kids.]

I worked with a woman who liked the movie The Bucket List with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. If the room ever got quiet (I worked in a room with two other people, her being one of them) she would break the silence by saying something like, “Rebecca, what’s on your Bucket List?” I would have to bite back comments like, “Item number one is to  say something like, ‘The tribe has spoken,’ and then cut out your tongue,” and make stuff up like, “Bike through Vietnam,” or “Climb that mountain that everyone is always climbing and leaving their trash on top of.”

Then she’d say something like, “My Bucket List includes visiting an elephant sanctuary and helping retired circus elephants,” which was touching and made me sympathetic towards her until she would do something like turn on Zydeco music and dance around the room or tell us about the last time she got to tour a plantation.

People have any number of things on their Bucket Lists. For example, unbeknownst to me, my mother’s Bucket List included being a member of a dragonboat team. I didn’t even know what a dragonboat was until suddenly she was on a team. Paddling on the team makes her supremely happy. The last time I was home she was surfing the Internet, hungry for more dragonboat news. I guess this is a case of Bucket List Gone Right.

If you Google “Bucket List” the first thing that comes up is, of course,  the beloved film. But then there are many websites and blogs dedicated to people’s pursuits of their own lists. There are even sites dedicated to helping you come up with a bucket list if you can’t come up with one for yourself.

Let’s think about that for a moment. You can’t come up with anything you’d like to do before you die… so… you’re ready to die, don’t you think? Unless, “Watch another season of America’s Got Talent,” can qualify as a Bucket List item, I think you’re about done on this planet. Stop taking up resources.

Here are some items I saw on various Bucket Lists on the web:

Take a jumping picture. Now, do you need to write this down? Writing it down would take longer than taking a jumping picture. And if you can’t just take a picture of you jumping then… is it really all that important? “Oh, it’s December 2014 and I still haven’t gotten around to taking that jumping picture and now I can’t jump anymore because of my knees. Well… I guess I give up that dream.”

Cage of Death. I’m not making this up. Someone simply has “Cage of Death” on their Bucket List. I have no idea where this cage is located but I’m going to guess it’s very close to hell. Yes, I would love, love, love to be put into a Cage of Death and then go to get ice cream.

Win a stupid competition. Uh… check.

Get a job delivering pizzas on a motorbike. I guess the motorbike is supposed to add glamor to an otherwise sad ambition.

Make love with guys from each country. I’m telling you right now, Afghanistan is going to be a tough one, Western Devil Temptress! Also, I don’t know… those red beards… not really a turn-on.

Help a child survive. Millions of people do this each day. It’s called parenting.

Sing karaoke with a drag queen (or lip sync). Why??? Let me guess what the song would be… Would it be, by any chance, “I Will Survive?”

Get a joke Lonely Hearts ad in the newspaper. And then you know what would be super funny? If a real Lonely Heart answered the ad, thinking that you were the person he or she was looking for and you could be like, “Ha ha ha, loser! That was a FAKE ad! Which makes you a bigger loser because you FELL FOR IT, silly, hopeful Lonely Heart.”

Get a meaningful tattoo. Which can only mean one thing:  Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck playing hacky sack.

Oh, the fun of looking through people’s bucket lists could go on and on for days! Possibly my favorite bucket list had only two items on it. Number one was, “Make a bucket list,” and number two was “Learn to play a tin whistle,” which couldn’t possibly be very time-consuming or difficult. Setting yourself up for success – now that’s what I’m talking about.

But I still don’t know if I’m confident enough to start my own list. It seems like a huge commitment to doing a lot of zany stuff and, at the same time, a comment upon my very being. One does not want to produce an obvious or boring list. It is not enough to say something like “Sky dive,” because everyone (really – I saw it on about 30 lists) has that on their list. It needs to be more daring and have elements that surprise and delight. So maybe, “Sky dive naked while eating salmon that was not farm-raised.”

Instead of “Drink Dom Perignon while watching polar bears in the wild,” it should be “Have Dom Perignon sipped from my bellybutton while watching polar bears eat seals in the wild but be too drunk to feel bad for the seals.” Instead of “Celebrate my grandmother’s 100th birthday by returning with her to the barn where she was born,” it should be “Take my Grandma to da club for her 100th birthday and order VIP bottle service and then leave without paying so we can joy ride out to the place where the barn she was born in used to stand before it became a Kwik Trip.”

Brevity in Bucketing would not be my strong suit. The truth is that my list would just become a complicated, amended, edited mess that I would start over at the beginning of every month along with my promises to diet and exercise.

Annoyed and confused, I asked Keith if he has a bucket list.

“Nope,” he said.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I’m too young.”

Well, I guess that’s one way of looking at it. My attempts to explain that even young people have such lists today, that it’s never to early to start, were met with indifference.

So here’s a Bucket List item that maybe only the band  The Who would truly appreciate: Die before having a Bucket List becomes an issue.

 

The Wednesday Outlook – July 6, 2011


This is what people in Wisconsin do for fun – make X-Wing Fighters.

I had a great 4th of July. My family went out on the ol’ party barge and went swimming in a sandy, shallow part of Lake Poygan so my five-year-old nephew could stand up and join in the fun of throwing water-soaked foam balls at each other while he yelled, ‘I will ruin you!” The kid has a good aim.

Today I woke up to endless coverage of the Casey Anthony verdict of not guilty. The Today Show devoted their entire broadcast to it, going from interviewing one of the lead prosecutors, Jeff Ashton (who seemed like a very intelligent, thoughtful, well-spoken guy) to Casey’s ex-fiance (super bitter, as is understandable, but he certainly dodged a bullet not actually marrying her) to Star Jones as they analyzed WHAT WENT WRONG.

Oh, and then there was their “mothers are outraged” angle, talking to two mothers with no personal stake in the case who went to Orlando to hear the verdict read. As in, one of them got on a plane and flew there just to hear the verdict. Wow, was she disappointed. These women were not very coherent.

When you see the circus that springs up around cases like this, it’s not hard to believe that there are people like Casey Anthony in the world. One report had her saying she plans to get pregnant as soon as she’s free.

But as everyone is pissing their pants and moaning, let’s all remember the story of O.J. Simpson. Although he will never serve a single day in prison for the murder of Nicole Simpson, he is in prison (serving a nine-year sentence for his role in an armed confrontation in Las Vegas).

This is because people like O.J. and Casey Anthony don’t go back out into the world and suddenly lead good lives. In Casey Anthony’s case, she has no education, a ruptured relationship with her parents, who were supporting her and her child before the murder, and few prospects for making money unless it’s related to the case.

So she’ll sell her story and get millions of dollars. But this will only make a terrible situation completely unmanageable. She will surround herself with bad people, spend all her money (or someone will steal it from her in the guise of “managing” it), get involved in relationships that break apart, get into drugs, alcohol, etc. She’ll probably make some bad porn.

And then she’ll get caught for doing something nefarious and end up back in court. And eventually people won’t care so much about her case or her story because the circus will move on to the next O.J./Casey/Michael Jackson/Anna Nicole spectacle.

So it’s about biding our time, people. And not pulling out our hair that “justice wasn’t served” for that little girl. She was doomed from the moment she was born to a mother who is surely a sociopath and an absentee father who may or may not (as the Anthony family claims) have died in a car crash.

The true injustice will be if she does have more children. What we should be praying for is not “Justice for Caylee” but birth control for Casey.

OK, now I’ll climb down off my soapbox…

Reading: Bossypants by Tina Fey and Reading My Father by Alexandra Styron

Watching: Breaking Bad Season 3, yo! This is one of the best shows on TV. I’m trying to catch up before season 4 premieres on July 17th.

Anticipating: A bike ride from Minneapolis to Stillwater.

Understanding The Olden Days: Cafe Society

If you’ve heard the term “cafe society” you may not know that it references a society and a time period, mostly in Europe, from about 1920 to 1960 and not just hanging out at coffee houses.

You may then  assume that cafe society was made up of writers and artists who hung out in Paris during this time period (you know, the ones we always hear about) and you would be somewhat correct – many of them moved in this circle, or at least on the periphery of it – but mostly this society was closed to people like Ernest Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald and more open to writers like Truman Capote and Noel Coward. Why?

Because Capote and Coward devoted a fair amount of their time to being charming, going to the right parties and befriending the very wealthy in order to better their stations, which is a big part of what cafe society was all about.

But let’s start at the beginning.

“Cafe society” was first a term given to the “bright young things” who gathered in cafes and restaurants beginning in the late 19th century in places like Paris, New York and London. So that’s the “cafe” angle. They were not always part of the Establishment but rather people with money and therefore no need to work or artists who had attracted the attention of society for being brilliant, witty, charming or all of the above.

Cafe society was made up of sets of people – circles within circles, if you will. The main group was the noblesse oblige, also known as the “Windsor Set” after the Duke and Duchess of Windsor (aka Prince Edward and Wallis Simpson). These were people of means who went to each others’ dinners and balls, went yachting and traveling together and basically tried to keep from being bored by throwing parties, gossiping and having weekend stays at each others’ country houses.

A second group was comprised of socialites and society figures who served to set the tone. They weren’t necessarily the “big guns” in terms of birth or wealth but they had money and definitely went to the right places, hung out with the right people and sometimes made good marriages that bettered their station.

A third set was comprised of artists, writers, photographers, magazine editors, etc. who were very talented and so had caught the eye of the movers and shakers in the scene who often became their patrons, providing them with money, commissions and places to stay. These were people like Cecil Beaton, for a time Truman Capote (before he lost his footing), Jean Cocteau, Noel Coward, etc.

The fourth circle was made up of escorts, seducers, Don Juans and gigolos. It was not a bad thing, necessarily, to be an escort on the cafe scene. What this meant was that you were either the long-term lover of a married man or woman and therefore had your own station in life or that you were a favored, platonic friend who received benefits like an apartment or invitations to the right parties. Escorts sometimes started out as someone’s gigolo and then became a trusted adviser and friend. The origins and pedigrees of many of these people were often unknown – they simply came onto the scene and gave it everything they had.

It was maybe better to be an escort than to be in the fifth circle – fashion icon. These were people with no background or standing whose sole purpose in life seemed to be to be seen in the magazines and at society events. Think reality TV stars, if you want a comparison within today’s world. Kim Kardashian, Lauren Conrad, Paris Hilton and Heidi Montag would all fill this role.

Cafe society was the point in history when social classes did start to mix and one was more likely to find an eclectic mix of people at the parties but it was also marked by snobbery not often based on wealth. It was a time period and group of people often described as chic, romantic, tragic, snobby, cosmopolitan, superficial, louche (which is a word that doesn’t get used often enough in general) and depraved.

To understand cafe society, one has to understand the worldview of the very rich during this time period. Many of the top members of this society were people who inherited money and had never worked a single day of their lives. This group included Europeans, American and South Americans. Some of the people in cafe society were aristocrats with titles but many were what was called the nouveaux riches – people with new money and lots of it.

The nouveaux riches served a great purpose for the aristocracy – they pumped in much-needed cash from enterprises like pewter mines and sewing machine empires,  in exchange for noble names. Many American heiresses married princes and dukes for this express reason. Some socialites “worked their way up through successive nuptials until they managed to cast off all financial cares.”

How did one spend one’s time in cafe society? A lot of hours went into planning and attending balls. These balls were themed and often required elaborate costumes. Here is a listing of some of the balls from throughout the era:

The White Ball
The Sea Ball
Colonial Ball
Famous Paintings Ball
Tricentenary of Racine Ball
Kings & Queens Ball
Moon Over Water Ball
Proust Ball
Second Empire Ball
Oriental Ball
Goya Ball
Beistegui Ball (thrown by Charles de Beistegui in 1951 and considered to be the “ball of the century”)

Also taking up one’s time in cafe society: speed boating, car racing, hunting to hounds in England, skiing in Gstaad, partying on yachts and at country homes, partying in Paris, partying in North Africa, Italy and on the French Riviera. And don’t forget “hunting antiques” – interior decorating was a major past time and often something people got competitive over. Ball-of-the-century-thrower Charles de Beistegui, who sounds like a prick (he never “paid court” to any woman below the rank of duchess) devoted his time and money to putting himself in the spotlight and decorating. He was described as “the Don Juan of interior decorators.”

Married couples were united mainly by the convenience of mixing titles and fortunes and by their love of art and the social whirl. Often, that’s as deep as their relationships went – they both got excited about decorating the Paris mansion but when it came time for deep conversation or sex they turned to escorts and lovers, often of the same sex. A lot of people in marriages in this society were gay. And this wasn’t a shameful thing. Other people knew and didn’t really care except that they got to gossip about it. In a way, homosexual relationships alleviated boredom for those in the relationship and those who got to hear about it.

For example, Count Blunt was “bowled over by a footman named Cecil Everley and from then on divided his time between his wife and Everley, for whom he bought a New York apartment and a villa on the Cap d’Ail.” And the Duke of Kent was known for his love of cocaine, morphine and lovers of both sexes, including Noel Coward. Jean Cocteau, well-known as a homosexual, had an affair with Natalie Paley. Parisian grande dame Marie-Laure de Noilles had an steady stream of relationships with gay men after she caught her husband with his gymnastics trainer and decided to “live independently.”

One of the best examples of a truly Parisian menage a trois in which everyone – wife, husband, lover – was accommodated was Arturo Lopez-Willshaw, his wife (and cousin) Patricia Lopez-Huici and Alexis de Rede. Arturo had married Patricia because he wanted children but they failed to have any. He fell in love with Alexis in New York during World War II and installed him in the Hotel Lambert in Paris after the war. He then divided his time between Alexis and Patricia, who lived in a mansion in Neuilly.

When Arturo bought a yacht, he made sure that both Alexis and Patricia had cabins on board. When he died, the estate was divided between his lover and his wife, who had become friends, and Alexis worked to ensure the growth of the fortune by going into banking and setting up Artemis, an investment fund specializing in the purchase, exhibition and sale of fine art.

This doesn’t sound too bad.

However, not everyone was as determined as Alexis de Rede to leave something, a business, inheritance or art, behind. In fact, cafe society was marked by many people who simply wanted to spend all their money on a lavish lifestyle – the prime example being the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, who led empty lives of snobbery, perfection and boredom surrounded by friends and hangers-on but who left no legacy, who did not contribute to anything or launch the careers of any fashion designers, artists, etc. For many people in this circle, their lives were their art and they treated their days and nights as performance, which was probably a lot of fun while it lasted.

C’est la vie!

Some interesting characters from cafe society:
Alexis de Rede
Barbara Hutton (dubbed “Poor Little Rich Girl”)
Mona Bismarck
Daisy Fellowes
Cristobal Balenciaga (Spanish couturier who dressed the finest ladies in the world)
Diana Vreeland (eventually editor in chief of Vogue)
Cecil Beaton
Emerald Cunard (and her daughter, Nancy)
Noel Coward (who didn’t this guy sleep with?)

Some hot cafe society reads (if you can get your hands on some of them):

The Glass of  Fashion by Cecil Beaton (and anything by Cecil Beaton, including his diaries)
Chips: The Diaries of Sir Henry Channon (known as Chips because his room mate at school was nicknamed “Fish”)
Poor Little Rich Girl: The Life and Legend of Barbara Hutton
Snob Spotter’s Guide – Philippe Jullian
Opium by Jean Cocteau
Cafe Society: Socialites, Patrons and Artists by Thierry Coudert (which helped a lot in this post!)
Riviera Cocktail by Edward Quinn

The Poor Rich One - Barbara Hutton

 

 

 

 

The Wednesday Outlook: June 22, 2011

The Buddha is serene even in the most difficult of circumstances:

Like, for example, being trapped in a crate. OK, so this truck has been in my neighborhood for months now with a beautiful Buddha statue crated up in it.

I’ve been walking past it since at least February. Originally I thought they must be waiting for spring so they can place it somewhere outside. Nope. Still a crated Buddha. At some point I would feel horrible about  leaving it in there so long but the Buddha doesn’t seem to mind. He sits calmly, patiently waiting. I’m sure he’s living in the moment, not all caught up in what the future may hold for him.

This morning I saw that there was a note stuck in the door handle of the truck (you can see it in the truck photo). It said, “Wanna sell your statue?” and then there was a phone number.

So I’m not the only one who has become impatient. Now the drama deepens as I wonder if the owner will, indeed, sell the statue. For how much? It’s very large. I would imagine it’s worth quite a bit. Where did they get it? When I took the pictures I stared up at the house. Nothing stirring at 9:30 in the morning, all the windows are covered with colorful sheets. Huh.

For some reason the truck makes me think of a Buddhist Sanford from the TV show Sanford & Son, driving around the neighborhood collecting junk in a very zen way. This makes me happy. Would he say, “Ooh, Lamont, this is the big one. It’s the big one but it’s OK. Pain is unavoidable but suffering is optional!”

If you don’t know anything about Sanford & Son, that joke is totally lost on you.

I think more people need the Buddha in their lives, caged or otherwise. I’ve had some weird run-ins with strangers this past week that have reminded me how lonely people are and how desperate they are to assert their worldview onto others so as to make everything OK.

The first encounter involved a man at a resale/antique shop. I was browsing around, as I’ve been known to do, and he was looking at the Coach bags the store sells. Now, whether these bags are really Coach is anyone’s guess – I have no interest in expensive purses, real or fake. But he was obsessed with them. He kept asking all the women in the store if women in general are still “into Coach.”

I wandered off to the back of the store but it wasn’t long before he caught up with me and asked me my opinion of Coach bags. I said I had no opinion. Then he started this litany:

“Look at all this crap in here. It’s sad. It’s really sad. Why even have a store like this? All this stuff should just be on eBay. You know what kind of people sell stuff at a store like this? Hoarders. You know what that is? I had a hoarder across the street from me, filled up his entire house and bought another one and filled that up. I called the city on him. I did. It’s just sad.”

In the middle of this oration, he let out a big fart and then continued talking, as if nothing unusual had happened. If that had been me, I would have at least had the presence of mind to flee in embarrassment but not this guy. He kept talking, telling me how everything in there was overpriced crap.

Now, I do wonder why I didn’t say to him, “And yet you’re here, aren’t you?”

Later, I wondered about why it was so important to this person to leave his home, seek out this store and then berate it to another customer who was just browsing around on a summer morning, for Christ’s sake. And I think it’s because people often want to spread their unhappiness around. They are also looking for some kind of recognition that, yes, the world does suck and it’s not just them. Except, yeah, it’s them. It’s each one of us who sets out to spread unhappiness to other people, like a plant trying to scatter it’s spores.

Encounter Number Two: Keith and I were walking home from a neighborhood cafe having a discussion about whether or not it is useful, in 2011, to learn Latin. As we were preparing to cross the street, a bus pulled up and a woman got off. She cross the street with us and then proceeded to walk, very slowly, ahead of us down the sidewalk. At some point I realized that she was eavesdropping on our conversation but I didn’t really mind. I would do that, too.

Then, when we had to turn off onto our street she stopped and said, “Excuse me but I’ve been listening to your conversation and I just wanted to say that Latin in very useful. It’s the root for most Western languages. My mother and I went to Europe and even though neither of us spoke another language, she was able to read and puzzle out a lot of things because she studied Latin.”

We were kind of unsure about whether we should stop walking and take up this debate. She was standing there looking at us so I said, “But it’s not conversational. That’s my point. Who can you talk to if you speak Latin?”

“Other people who speak Latin,” she said.

Does that not make my point? No one speaks Latin anymore! So if you go to Mexico or France, hooray that you can speak Latin but try asking for the bathroom. Would you stand there saying, in Latin, “Does anyone around here speak Latin?” I said as much to her and then turned around to keep walking and she stood on the street corner and shouted something at us.

Shouted at us! Over our conversation that she listened to without being invited in! And she was wearing Birkenstock sandals and carrying a bag from Michael’s craft store that probably contained yarn for some knitting project she would complete while listening to MPR. Only in South Minneapolis.

But she had to be right. Even if nothing was at stake, she had to shout some opinion at us. Did she think that we would come back and say, “You’re right. We were soooo wrong about Latin.”

***

Reading: Finished Everybody Was So Young by Amanda Vaill, a book about Sara and Gerald Murphy and their time in France in the 1920s and 30s; currently reading Radioactive: Marie & Pierre Curie: A Tale of Love and Fallout by Lauren Redniss, which is an amazing graphic novel. I highly recommend reading it – it’s interesting but also beautiful and tragic, particularly the artwork that goes along with the story. The coolest thing: last night after reading it in bed I put it down, turned out the light and realized that the cover art glows in the dark!

Watching: While suffering through a recent bout of stomach flu, I watched many strange things. A show on PBS about a guy who hunts spiders and, when he finds them, breaks into a cold sweat. I watched a crew build a stone patio for a building show and realized how many steps there are to building a stone patio. I watched a documentary about screenwriters that reminded me of how shitty it can be to be a working screenwriter but at the same time its better than an office job. Or so they say.

Anticipating: Despite a lay-off do to aforementioned stomach flu, I’m going to run my first 5K this Sunday as part of the Twin Cities Pride Festival. The Rainbow Run starts at the Stone Arch Bridge and runs along the Pride parade route to Loring Park. I’ve never run an organized anything before except for track when I was in junior high and that experience kinda sucked. I’m hoping this will be much better. I’ll be the slow one at the end of all the runners. Then, that night, Derailleur rocks the Aster Cafe with two sets!

Don't forget to breathe!

 

 

The Rooms Of My Life – Part II

Hello, my name is Lauren Bayhue. The Room of My Life is a project I’ve created while in psychoanalysis with the renowned Dr. Oliver Cuddles.  This is Dr. Cuddles:

The purpose of this undertaking is to troll my personal history through the spaces, or rooms, that have held my life in order to come to terms with my past so that I can, uh, embrace the future.

Here is The Rooms Of My Life, Part I, in case you missed it.

When I left off I was about six years old and we were living in a suburban house just outside Chicago. I had my own room but I spent a lot of time in the kitchen:

What I liked to do was sneak in there when my mom was in another part of the house and eat Oreos out of the clown cookie jar. I could easily polish off about 20 of them in an afternoon and then she would wonder where all the Oreos went. She never accused me of eating them all but she would wonder about it out loud while she made dinner. I never confessed. In fact, I had the audacity to then add them to the next grocery list.

I think this picture of the kitchen was taken on the summer afternoon we found out that Dad would be going to prison. Well, let me amend that. We found out that Dad had been arrested and would be going on trial for money laundering and extortion. The part about running a prostitution ring came out later. And the prison thing came about after he was found guilty. Anyway, I digress.

I remember that afternoon because my mother and my brothers, Kenneth and Royce and I were all standing around eating watermelon. It was a hot day and my brothers and I had just biked home from the community pool. And the watermelon was so good and cold and the juice was dripping down my chin when the doorbell rang.

And that was that.

Even though our suburban home just outside Chicago was not grand by any means (look at that kitchen!) after Dad went to the Big House we were forced to move. My mother claimed she could not handle three kids on her own with no income so my grandparents agreed to let my brothers live with them in Wisconsin. They didn’t like me all that much, which bothered me at the time.

My mother found a tiny apartment at the top of what used to be a grand mansion but had since been carved up into small apartments and studios. We had no air-conditioning and there were several wasp nests in the eaves. When we had our windows open, which we usually did so as not to suffocate, the wasps would fly in and settle on all our stuff. It was not unusual for me to wake up with the headboard of my bed covered in wasps.

It never occurred to my mother to demand that the owners spray the wasp nests. She was too busy working two jobs. I was often left with a young woman who lived in a studio apartment on the second floor. She smoked pot all day and had me occupy myself by cutting up fashion magazines while she watched TV.

Still, my mother made sure that one corner of our apartment served as my bedroom:

This was the photo she sent to my grandparents to assure them that we were doing just fine. I don’t think it ever looked like this again. What you can’t see is that the rest of the room is our living room and dining area. Once the roof started to leak in my mother’s room, she started sleeping with me in my bed. The nice thing about that was that she’d get rid of all the wasps before I woke up, especially the dead ones that had fallen from the headboard into my hair. Wasps die more often than you think.

The second summer my mother and I were on our own, I went for an extended trip to Wisconsin to see my brothers. I hadn’t seen them in a year. They shared a bedroom in my grandparents’ home. My grandmother bought them bunk beds, which made me insanely jealous:

I had to sleep on the floor, which made me cry. My grandmother said, “If you don’t like the floor, sleep in the chair,” meaning the hard-backed one you can see in the bottom left of the photo. I tried that one night but ended up falling on the floor anyway. My brother Royce tried to convince me that it wasn’t so bad to sleep on the floor because it was “blue, like the ocean,” and I could pretend to be sailing at night.  When he couldn’t sleep, he would lie in his bunk and move his sailboat across the “water” making an annoying sliding/creaking sound that kept me awake.

Neither one of my brothers would let me have their bunk or sleep with them. Kenneth said that sharing a bed would be breaking “the last taboo.” I have no idea what he was talking about. He was five years older than me and thought he knew everything.

Understanding The Olden Days: TB

Recently, I’ve been reading a lot of books about the past and, in such books, tuberculosis (TB) often comes up. If you don’t understand what TB is, your enjoyment of books about the olden days might be diminished. I’ve decided to do my part to improve your chances of enjoying reading about the past by demystifying one of the most common old-timey diseases.

TB is a contagious bacterial infection that mainly involves the lungs, but may spread to other organs. You can get it by breathing in air droplets from a cough or sneeze from an infected person. So this is one of several reasons you don’t want someone to cough on you or sneeze into your face when, for example, you’re riding the bus.

When one contracts TB, there aren’t necessarily any symptoms. In fact, there may never be any. According to Wikipedia, “Most infections in humans result in an asymptomatic, latent infection, and about one in ten latent infections eventually progresses to active disease…”

If you’re one of the unlucky ones whose TB progresses, this is how it works – you’re living your life, worrying about what to make for dinner or if you’re going to ever get that raise at work when you develop a cough. Eventually, your cough will produce mucus or blood. Coughing up blood should get your attention, tipping you off to the fact that something is very wrong. You’ll also be tired, sweaty and lose weight effortlessly. Further along, it will be hard to breathe and there may be chest pain, wheezing, fluid around the lungs and crackling sounds when you breathe.

But what’s happening in your lungs? Well, the bacteria sets up shop in the lungs ( these are called tubercles) and your body sends out cells that form granulomas (kind of like lesions) around them to prevent them from spreading further. So if you get an x-ray, they will see these little masses in your lungs. What can happen is that these granulomas  can cause cell death in the tubercles and this stuff, called necrotic material, “has the texture of soft white cheese.” I believe this is the mucus-y stuff you’d be coughing up, and which earned TB the nickname of the White Plague. If the TB bacteria gets into your bloodstream, it can set up shop and form tubercles in other tissues. This seems like a major bummer.

Also, tissue that is ravaged by TB is replaced by scarring and cavities filled with that necrotic stuff – thus greatly reducing lung capacity. In the book I was just reading about the 1920s, a boy with TB had one of his lungs purposely collapsed by getting injections of gas (a thick needle was inserted under his arm and between his ribs!)  that surrounded and collapsed it in the hopes that immobilization of the lung would stop the spread of the disease.

It would be best, at this stage, if you enclosed yourself in your house or went off to live in a tent, so as to avoid infecting other people. Today, treatment involves being on a series of drugs to fight the bacteria. This is why TB was such a huge bummer before antibiotics – there were no drugs to take.

This is a great example of why it’s not such a great idea to romanticize the past. If you got TB in, say,  the 1920s, it was Welcome to Doomsville. “In 1815, one in four deaths in England was of consumption; by 1918 one in six deaths in France were still caused by TB. In the 20th century, tuberculosis killed an estimated 100 million people.” This is why it’s so prevalent in books about, or written in, the past. And it really was a death sentence. You’d go off to the sanitarium in some mountainous setting (they believed cool, thin air was best to slow the disease and “rest, sun and fresh air” were often the only treatments offered), sometimes for years, and lie in your “cure chair” and try to breathe. Even if one managed to recover, the bacteria would still be in one’s lungs, lurking, ready for a recurrence at the most inopportune time, like when one just met the love of one’s life and was going to get married and have a huge family and live on an estate.

Old-timey tip: When reading books about the past, you will often see reference to people dying of “consumption.” This is TB. For years, this confused me when I was reading. They often called TB “consumption” because sufferers wasted away, their bodies seemingly “consumed” by the disease. They also talked believed people became euphoric or experienced a burst of energy just before they died of consumption but this is likely one of those disease myths – women became more beautiful and men more creative. Ha!

So antibiotics have saved us, right? Well, yes and no. Antibiotics were great at first but, as so often happens, the TB bacteria are increasingly resistant to our drugs and have always required a cocktail of drugs. Wiki says, “The proportion of people who become sick with tuberculosis each year is stable or falling worldwide but, because of population growth, the absolute number of new cases is still increasing.” Granted, TB in the U.S. is pretty rare and there is a vaccine, although we don’t use it that much here due to this low rate of incidence.

One thing people can do to keep TB (and other communicable diseases) down is stop coughing and sneezing without covering their mouths – especially at home and work. It’s actually not that common to get TB from a stranger but more common to get it from someone you’re exposed to often. Anyway, one sneeze contains 40,000 droplets of spit… 40,000 little spit daggers loaded with bacteria! Is it really so hard to raise your hand or arm to your mouth to cover it while coughing or sneezing?

Also – stop spitting, people! I was in the park yesterday and some guy spit on the walking path as I walked by. Really? It’s so hard to swallow your spit? Does it hurt your throat? I’ve never understood this compulsion. The other afternoon, while I was enjoying the June weather on my front porch, my neighbor across the street came outside, sat down on his front steps and proceeded to hack and spit about 18 times, spraying his front lawn with mucus-y wads. This is what he needed to do on a gorgeous spring afternoon?

Want to do your part to stop TB? Stop being gross.

 

Tapping Into The Zeitgeist #3

Here are a few of the people, things, ideas and places I’ve been thinking about lately. Have you been thinking about them too?

BOB ROSS


One morning this winter I discovered that my PBS station sometimes rebroadcasts The Joy of Painting early in the morning. I stopped to watch Bob Ross paint a falling-down fence in front of an old shack in the woods and that was that – I was hooked. There is a tradition among Tibetan Buddhists of recognizing reincarnated masters in children… I think they overlooked Bob Ross, with his sayings like “happy little accidents,” “happy clouds,” “happy trees” and his reminders to create your own happy little world, presumably both on canvas and off.

When I was a child, I would watch Bob paint and be entranced and calmed in a way that has never quite been duplicated. Watching his show has a similar effect as having someone run their fingers through your hair or as cleaning your ears with a Q-tip after being out on a long camping trip. It’s so satisfying that you sink into the feeling, listening to his voice and watching him paint his happy little clouds in a state of bliss.

Sadly, Bob died of lymphoma in 1995 at the age of 52 but his legacy lives on through the show, which airs in syndication, and through his company, Bob Ross Incorporated,  which sells how-to DVDs (some with names like “All Barns!” “All Lakes!” and “All Mountains!” or the Bob Ross DVD Legacy for $1,378.50), art supplies and t-shirts (you gotta check out the t-shirts, which you can find on this page). I think they need a shirt that says, “How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Bob Ross.”

FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS


If you’re a woman who went to school in the U.S. you are probably well-familiar with friendship bracelets. Made from colorful embroidery floss knotted into various patterns, many of us wore 8 to 10 of them at one time when we were in junior high and high school. I didn’t wait for anyone to make one for me, (which was kind of the point behind them – your friend would make you one), and instead happily knotted away with the bracelet taped to my leg, tying knot after knot while watching shows like Cheers and The Cosby Show on TV or, if it was summer, Days of Our Lives.  I remember making one epic bracelet that was about 16-20 strings across, resulting in a cool, thick version that I wore until it rotted off my wrist.

Well, I don’t think friendship bracelets need to be only for the young ladies. A lot of designers apparently agree with me – I’ve seen some fancy ones that incorporate pieces of vintage jewelry, rhinestones, etc that sell for $75-100.  Also back on the scene is the preppy rope bracelet – when I was in 7th grade all the popular girls wore white rope bracelets and it was considered such an exclusive act that you couldn’t exactly go out and buy one yourself if you weren’t in the group.

But there’s nothing wrong about the good, old-fashioned friendship bracelet. One puts one on and leaves it on all summer long. Once you take a shower or a swim the threads shrink to form to your wrist and the only way to really get them off is to cut them. Maybe not perfect for the corporate drone but great for anyone allowed to show they have a personality.

If you want to be a cool pal, make one for a girlfriend this summer. Note: if you use real embroidery thread and not the kind for crafts, you can be sure that they are color-fast and won’t stain clothing or skin when they get wet!

Here are some tutorials to get you started if you’ve forgotten your knotting techniques: The Basics from Ben Franklin, making the Chevron pattern and Advanced patterns for all you smarty-pants.

UMBRELLAS


Maybe it’s because this was one of the wettest springs I can remember but recently I’ve become quite enamored of umbrellas. For years I lugged around an ugly navy blue and maroon one my mom gave me at some point after college. It was definitely sturdy but not pretty – it seemed like something a woman from the 1980s would have carried on her way to her job at Xerox or IBM. Then I bought a cheap, travel-sized one for a trip to Italy – it was raining when we touched down in Pisa and I got it out only to have it immediately break in the wind.

Since then I’ve been on the hunt for well-made, well-designed umbrellas. I bought two Marimekko umbrellas from the Minneapolis store Finn Style and I also acquired two amazing umbrellas from estate sales – one is green and blue plaid with the head of a Scottie dog for its handle (I long to find a similar one with a horse’s head for a handle) and the other is a perfectly preserved 1960s pink-and-red flowered one with a curved handle done in red leather with white stitching that appears to have never been used (it was carefully stored in its original plastic wrapping as well as wrapped in a cone of hardware store paper in the basement).

Keith loves to use the Scottie umbrella. He reports that you just can’t be in a bad mood when you’re holding on to the Scottie head while walking in the rain. I’ve found that spending money on tools and utilitarian objects that are well-designed often makes repetitive or tedious tasks a delight. For example, investing in an expensive German pizza cutter has made us happy in ways we never realized would matter. Same thing for a can opener. Being able to open a beautiful and/or well-made umbrella gives you the satisfaction of being prepared and stylish.

BIKE PATHS

There are some things that Minneapolis gets very right and one of them is bike paths. Bike paths (and lanes) are a more civilized way to ride in many cases (except when going around the lakes, which are a free-for-all of slow bikers, fast bikers, roller bladers, runners on the bike paths and strollers). The fact is, you can’t trust drivers to look out for you. They are too busy talking on their phones to come to a complete stop at stop signs. Or they see you coming but they don’t care and gun it so as not to have to wait for 20 seconds while you roll past. Or they are filled with rage over the fact that you’ve chosen to go somewhere by bike and happen to be on the same street as them.

This digression is my way of getting around to saying that Minneapolis (and St. Louis Park)  now has a bike path that can change your life. It used to be that the Cedar Lake commuter trail into downtown Minneapolis ended approximately at Liquor Lyle’s. You’d come huffing up the slight hill after exiting the trail only to be dumped across the street from the bar, observed by some of its afternoon patrons who came outside for a smoke. No longer!

A new section of the trail connects all the way to the Mississippi River via a tunnel under Target Field. It is now possible to bike from South Minneapolis all the way to the River largely on trails. We tried it on Saturday and were giddy with excitement – getting through downtown from the commuter trail used to be a maze of biking in traffic, taking quick jogs down one-ways going the wrong way and guesswork as to where you’d end up. Now the biggest challenge is aggressive bikers who refuse to say “On your left,” before they pass you because that’s a sign of weakness.

Try the ride on Saturdays and you can continue along the river to the Mill City Farmers Market for lunch before biking through the University’s campus and all the way to Minnehaha Park if you feel so inclined.

Here’s the article about it from the Star Tribune – the best part of it is the comments section where people complain, complain, complain about what an awful waste this is. I love it.

 

Do Over

Scanner difficulties, a trip to the dentist, general malaise and ugly hair all add up to a Shit Day. We all have them.

Compliments of Keith. He referred to this as his “e-card.”
More stuff tomorrow…

Wednesday Outlook: June 8, 2011

I started reading A Moveable Feast last night and it has set my brain on fire. First because I’ve had an idea for a series of funny shorts or “episodes” about Hemingway and Fitzgerald and I’m finding them to be just the sort of characters I imagined, with plenty of pathos and brilliance to play upon. But also because the book is quite the remedy for writing procrastination. Reading about Hemingway’s writing habits is both inspiring and guilt-inducing.

Of course, the world is a different place today than it was in 1920’s Paris but the fundamentals of getting writing done are the same. Have a routine. Have a ritual. Work just long enough that you accomplish good work for the day but quit when things are at an interesting point, giving you an impetus to show up at the page the next day. Then shut down that part of your brain and go about the business of living – go get a racing sheet, go to the cafes, get some exercise, look for good books to read and have a meal.

It sounds easy and decadent in a way – ah, the life of a writer in Paris. But underneath it all I suspect that it was a bit of a grind and plagued with self-doubt. This was before Hemingway had published a novel and was writing “journalism,” as he called it, and short stories. He read Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby and supposedly was consumed with admiration and jealousy, knowing that he must attempt the same in order to move forward in his writing.

One a tiny scale, I’m having some of the same writer’s predicament. I don’t believe in writer’s block but I do believe in unhealthy, pathological procrastination and that’s what I’ve been experiencing. I’m within 20 pages of finishing a second draft of a screenplay that I believe to be good and interesting but I’ve stalled out. Every day I resolve to sit down with it and then find other things to do. Oh, the kitchen sink needs scrubbing. Time for a bike ride… For weeks I’ve told myself that it’s OK; that my subconscious is simply doing some “behind-the-scenes” work and it will all become clear soon enough but that’s a bunch of bullshit. Nothing will work itself out unless I sit there and stare at it, writing and deleting until something starts to stick.

I don’t know why I do this. I suspect it has a lot to do with the fear of failure. I already know that was was in my head when I started out is not what’s on the page and that’s a hard thing to reconcile. Why can’t the two match up? But that’s simply another fact of writing or any creative endeavor. They never match up. Or very rarely. Or maybe a scene or a page does and that’s all you get.

Often I’m puzzled by why people continue to revere Hemingway. Some of his writing leaves me not exactly cold but certainly cool. But A Moveable Feast allows a glimpse of vulnerability not often associated with him. Yes, he would stare out at the street and wonder if his stories would ever sell. Yes, he struggled daily with writing. But the heroic thing he did, more than the boxing, deep-sea fishing and African safaris was to show up, day after day, and keeping after it because it was simply his purpose in life.

Watching: The Larry Sanders show – started at Season 1 (1992) and moving along through the 85 episodes! Will probably break for third season of Breaking Bad, which came out on DVD on Tuesday.

Doing: Making a big collage and also screen printing a t-shirt (which will soon be featured on Not Shallow as part of 99 Projects). Also, taking a kettlebell class at Four Gates in Minneapolis – a relatively new studio with great instructors and a laid-back attitude.

Anticipating: Excited to see Midnight in Paris, the new Woody Allen film and to eat at Wise Acre Eatery in South Mpls!

 

 

Northern Spark: The Remix

Had a great time at Northern Spark this year; here are some art installations and events for next time around (June 9-10, 2012!):

1. Hee Haw: The Interactive Experience
Visitors have a chance to perform their own jokes in The Cornfield, sit on The Haystack and discuss love problems and get drunk on moonshine in The Honky Tonk. Also: a mini golf course featuring the Hee Haw Donkey braying at you each time you miss a shot.

 

 

 

 

 

2. Synthesizing Cats
A large group of cats move about a glassed-in enclosure in which the floor is actually a giant Kaossilator. Each time a cat moves, another groovy sound or effect is produced for spectators. Inside the enclosure it is sound-proof, of course, so that the cats are not afraid. The “cat songs” are recorded all night and the finished album goes online the next day for download.

3. The Pee Experiment
My answer to the Walker Art Center’s “The Lullaby Experiement,” this takes place in a room outfitted with urinals and toilets in which selected participants pee. Observers are allowed to come into the room but can’t interact with the peeing participants, who must sit quietly and sip water while not urinating.

4. Ear Worm Karaoke Bus Boarding
Take a tour of Minneapolis while sipping purple drank and listening to fellow riders karaoke the best of the worst earworms the world has to offer: “Cotton-Eyed Joe,” “Night Moves,” “We Will Rock You,” “Tainted Love,” etc., etc.

5. River of Baked Goods
Visitors to the banks of the Mighty Mississippi will take turns pulling plastic deli containers filled with chocolate cake, blueberry pie, caramel rolls and chocolate chip cookies out of a special whirlpool of water with fishing poles.

6. Hi, My Name is Phil Collins
Wander through a maze populated with Phil Collins look-a-likes. Why? Well, it could be to achieve a greater understanding for the world that existed when Phil Collins had cultural significance or it could just be to freak you out.

7. Ray Stevens Laser Light Show
We’ve all had quite enough of Pink Floyd “The Wall” laser shows but have we seen enough of Stevens’ “Ahab The Arab,” or “The Streak?” I think not. Just think of the fun graphics for “Osama-Yo’ Mama!” Making art accessible for rednecks.

8. Flame Throwing Tribuchet
Positioned at Weisman Art Museum to throw flaming anything – garbage, watermelons, shit – at other buildings at the U.

9. How To Cure Insomnia
Volunteer insomniacs are put into various rooms in which a different book is read aloud to try to lull them to sleep. Visitors can judge just how sleepy they look. Suggested reading includes: Dombey & Son by Dickens, Middlemarch by George Elliot, The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan and Twilight by Stephanie Meyer.

10. No Regrets Bonfire
Everyone is urged to bring something to toss in the fire as a way of unburdening themselves of the past – whether an old journal, school picture, love letter, fax machine, pair of undies, resume or copy of James Frey’s A Million Little Pieces. You won’t regret it.

Long Night’s Journey Into More Night: Northern Spark



We toured the first annual Northern Spark Fest this weekend – an all-night art fest in Minneapolis and St. Paul. OK – we didn’t make it to St. Paul (we hardly ever make it to St. Paul) but we rode the free buses from stop to stop in the Minneapolis loop until 3:30 in the morning. Maybe we would have made it all night if it weren’t for the Walker and their Lullaby Experiment, but more on that later.

We started at Soo Vac’s 10th anniversary carnival, which was a hit because it incorporated games and art. We played Robot Skee Ball and our friend, Katie, tried her hand at donning a helmet with antlers and trying to lift a stuffed wiener dog up and place him in a giant stuffed bun. Also, props to artist Levi Murphy for his incredibly cool table tennis boxy thing.

Then we boarded a free bus to make our way across town to the Nomad Pub for ping pong and projected photos by Wing Young  Huie. Free buses were a really awesome idea. The only thing is you’re then on the circuit and have to sit for five minutes at each stop before moving on, which puts a damper on the party feeling.

Suggestion for next year: We need music on the buses. Karaoke. Acoustic music. It should feel more like you’re on a shuttle bus to your resort in Jamaica or Hawaii rather than a prison transport. OK, it wasn’t that bad. I am dramatic. Also, if there is any way to have a keg on the bus, that would be great.

All in all, we hit most of what there was to see in and around the Stone Arch Bridge: “MURMUR” by Deborah Miller (photos projected onto the Gold Medal Flour silos); “beneath a glowing ceiling of living light” by Diane Willow (this was a tented area that was completely dark inside and up above, suspended in nets, were creature-like blobs that glowed with bio-luminescent. They glowed more if you touched them but there was much debate inside the tent if people were supposed to touch them or not. Keith declared it a FAIL, much to the consternation of an old hippie lady who said, “Now, I’ve heard this is very cool so let’s just look at it and try to figure it out,” then she tried to reach up and touch the creatures and couldn’t reach them); “Domestic Storefront” by Leslie Kelman and Mark O’Brien, the egg that was part of Egg & Sperm Ride, “Classic of the Mountains and Seas” by Liu Xuguang (another projection – projections were HUGE at Northern Spark).

We also saw “Modern Monoliths migrating” by Barbara Claussen, which were red phone booths you could get inside to hear different sounds. The one we got into was like a torture chamber of buzzing. I think Keith summed it up well when he said it was a place you would put someone you didn’t like very much. We tried to see “Illuminated Stream” but couldn’t find it – if you can’t find a stream that’s supposed to be illuminated, well, that might also be a fail. Also, much to everyone’s despair, the galloping horse projection called “Nightmare” that was supposed to go up and down the river being pulled by a barge was not functioning properly.

Note: Northern Spark is enough fun that it really doesn’t matter if the art is a fail or not; it’s cool just to be out in the middle of the night with crowds of other people looking at something.

We went into downtown to the Foshay  Observation Deck at W Minneapolis for “Station Identification.” This was probably one of the best stops. Not only did we get to watch the end of the night’s debauchery at the W’s first floor bar (drunk women sure love to grind up against things – men, women, poles, the air) but we got to go up to the open “deck” and look out over the city. As we walked went around the deck (really kind of a hallway or, um, cell), there were  radios tuned to various stations so that one minute we were looking out and singing along to “All The Single Ladies” by Beyonce and the next we were looking down at cars while listening to “Low Rider” by Foghat.

Back on ground level, we walked through hordes of recently ejected party-goers (2 a.m. bar closing) and saw two guys having a fight over one of them being an unemployed loser who may or may not have lived with his mom. It wasn’t certain whether or not either accusation was true. Guy #1 said, “You’re a loser who doesn’t even have a job,” and Guy #2 said, “I don’t have a job?” as if it was not a black or white area but rather more gray. In my opinion, one is either employed or not employed. I, for example, am not employed. I do not, however, live with my mother. But we never did get to the bottom of the question of the job because they quickly moved on to “You want to see me go?” and  “You want to see how I go?” which is the male ritual engaged in before punching each other.

On our journey to the Walker, we got on unlucky bus #9, which had a flat tire that everyone, including the driver, was chose to ignore. As we chunked merrily along I thought it would have been a great art installation in and of itself. Maybe call it “Midwestern Reticence – Nothing Is Wrong Here.” By this point, everyone was a bit loopy anyway and it seemed like it was all in the game.

The Walker really brought it’s Weirdness A-Game to the festivities. This was undoubtedly the best people watching (my fave was the guy who looked like Mr. Kotter from Welcome Back, Kotter, complete with mustache, swimming trunks as shorts and a tight button-down shirt with a 70s pattern). Also, people were drunk and high. One woman came in “hot” on her bike and inexplicably crashed it. And I heard my favorite bit of overheard conversation: “I’d just take my dick out and start slapping stuff.”

But the best part of the Walker offerings was the “The Lullaby Experiment.” We wandered down a hallway and came upon a short line standing in front of a roped off area. Down the long hallway there were hooks hung with clothing and bags; there was a cubby that held shoes. A man in a bathrobe welcomed us to The Lullaby Experiment in hushed tones – about 35 people were upstairs sleeping in a room and having lullabies sung to them.

Oh.

“Would you like to go up and observe?” he asked. The way he was softly speaking I thought the sleepers were somewhere right around the corner but it turned out they were five flights up.

“Well, OK…”

We were told to wait in line, only a few people could go up at once. Bathrobe man wandered away and a new robed woman took his place. At one point a very harried looking woman came up to her and said, ” I can’t go out that door?” gesturing to a front door far down the hallway.

“No.”

The woman looked pissed but she accepted this and left.

When it was finally our turn to go up, we had to take off our shoes unless they were “very quiet” shoes. Flip flops were out of the question. “Would you mind placing your shoes in the cubby?” bathrobe man asked. We went up in the elevator and entered a lounge where two morose young women sat on couches and an anxiety-ridden man stood by a doorway. No one smiled. Next to the couches there was a set-up of tea and water for the sleepers. Another project volunteer came out and asked us to wait – there were too many observers in the space. But soon enough some observers emerged and he deemed it OK for us to enter the space.

We walked into a dark room, dotted with humped forms of sleeping humans. A woman circulated around the room singing a lullaby. We proceeded to some more couches to watch. There were two women observers who had fallen asleep. One of them, a rather large lady, was practically snoring from her place on a padded footstool. A couple who had come in to observe cuddled on one of the couches facing away from the sleepers. Apparently, they were just there for the ambiance and to enjoy the lullaby. We sat for about two minutes, got up and left.

There was something about “The Lullaby Experiment” that sucked the wind out of our sails. Maybe it was just time to go home or maybe we were depressed that “The Lullaby Experiment” got to masquerade as art but we got on the free bus one more time and headed back to where we started from. I was a little sad not to have experienced the 4 a.m. bonfire at Loring Park or the pancake breakfast at Intermedia Arts but there’s always next year.

Save The Date: Northern Spark will take place on June 9-10 in 2012.

Northern Spark Bingo!

Next year, Keith and I plan to make and publish Bingo cards for Northern Spark attendees. Groups can play along and see who can be the first to spot things like the following:

Scott Seekins (Keith won this one – he was at the Soo Vac Carnival)
A tall bike (Keith also saw this first)
A person who brought their dog to the art
A dog in a costume or wearing dog clothing
A white person with dreadlocks (aka a “wolf”)
Face tattoo
Face paint
Inappropriately dressed teen girl
Art you don’t understand
Art only you understand
Missing art – something that’s promised to be there and isn’t

 

But You Are In That Chair: The Social Etiquette Edition

baby jane on beach 170From time to time, Baby Jane Hudson appears here with her question and answer column, But You Are In That Chair: Baby Jane’s Advice For the Confused, Depressed and Clueless. The summer season is upon us and many are preparing for the usual round of seven weddings, 14 barbecues and the odd key party. To help you prepare, Baby Jane takes time to answer some of your most pressing social etiquette questions. She has time since she’s not shaving her armpits this year and also is refusing to return books to the library. Also, she’s been banned from the beach.

Dear Baby Jane,
I am appalled! My friend is getting married for the third time and had the gall to register for wedding gifts. The first time around I bought her the expensive mixer she wanted. The second time around I said, “Well, everyone makes a mistake,” and went all in for several place settings of the china she wanted for “entertaining.” Now I’m on the hook for another gift? Can I decline? Should I just put $20 in an envelope and call it good? Even more horrifying – she’s going for the white princess wedding gown. I told her I think she should go with a demure, cream-colored suit.
Enuff-Is-Enuff
Providence, Rhode Island

Dear Enuff,
Who died and made you Queen of Weddings? You will get your friend a gift, dammit. I don’t care if she’s on her way to nine husbands, you should get her a gift for every single one of ’em. After all, you’re obviously kind of a bitch and probably don’t have that many friends. Do you really want to piss her off? Now, the kind of gift is up for debate. A bottle of Mount Gay Rum? That would be great! A handful of painkillers, siphoned off of other friends’ stashes when you visit their bathrooms during dinner parties? Wonderful, especially if tied with a bow from that old box of chocolate-covered cherries in the attic. See? Get creative? Don’t do the registry – that is so boring. As for the dress, only lesbians where suits to their weddings. Lesbians and women over 70. Not that I would wear a suit. I’d wear a pinafore, of course.
Baby Jane

Dear Baby Jane,
I am the absolute worst at making small talk at parties! I dread it. Last year at a barbecue I asked a woman what she did for a living and she said, “I’m an accountant,” and I said, “Well,” and then stared at her for at least 30 seconds trying to come up with something clever to say. I still have nightmares about that one. I meet someone and my mind goes blank or I blurt out the worst thing possible, like, “Don’t you wish we could have a Popsicle right now?” or “Remember the TV show Sigmund The Sea Monster?” HELP!
Tongue-Tied & Twisted
Madison, Wisconsin

Dear Tongue Twisted,
I read your letter nine times and I’m failing to see what the problem is. Popsicles? Brilliant! Sigmund the Sea Monster? I have it on VHS! It sounds to me like you’re a conversational genius who is underappreciated. However, since this is supposed to be a column in which I “help people,” I’ve come up sure-fire conversation starters for you that always work for me.

1. Hey, did you see that green thing in the bathroom wastebasket? What do you suppose that is?

2. Do you know who I am?

3. Do you like me?

4. What do you think of my make-up/hair/fashion?

5. Are you drunk? I am.

6. Do you want to French kiss me in the broom closet?

7. Do you really think your job matters in the overall scheme of the Universe?

8. Have you ever touched a hippo’s snout?

9. Flowers: plastic or silk?

10. Do you want to get high?

Baby Jane

Dear Baby Jane,
My sister is getting married this summer. I am the older sister but I’m not married yet, something I hear about constantly. Although she doesn’t know it, I’ve been dating one of my sister’s old boyfriends and things are getting more serious. I want to bring him to the wedding as my date rather than spend the evening alone, fielding questions about my status. Is this OK? I think it is because she’s marrying someone else and the old boyfriend says she was a drag – there is no chemistry between them!
Scraps
Allentown, Pennsylvania

Hey Scraps,
Things get complicated when it comes to sisters. If you show up with her old boyfriend there are bound to be hurt feelings… so I say go for it! Sometimes a sister, particularly an uppity one who thinks she’s so great just because she’s getting married or has a hit movie or has a million dollars, needs that needle of a reminder that’s she’s no better than you are. In fact, this boyfriend likes you better! Maybe you don’t have such an irritating voice, maybe you give good blow jobs, how do I know? Love is a strange and fickle thing. Anyway, show up with the boyfriend, invest in a knock-out dress and don’t play second fiddle to that twit.
Baby Jane

Dear Baby Jane,
Every summer my corporation has a big barbecue and every summer I end up getting drunk and doing something embarrassing – throwing up in the potato salad bowl, stabbing myself with Jarts, pulling down my pants… It’s terrible. But everyone else thinks it’s a riot. Politically, I have to go to the event – not going would be as good as quitting my job – but I can only endure it if I’m drunk. But I’m tired of being the joke. What are your tips for enduring a social situation without the aid of booze?
Liquored Up
Tucson, Arizona

Dear Liquored Up,
I’ve never been to a party without getting drunk before, during and after. Why else do people have parties? That being said, you could switch to pills. But if your mind is made up that you’re going to be the good little boy or girl, fine. I would say bring something to bite down on, like a rag or a stick, so that when people start talking about things like T-ball and yard sales and saving up to redo the kitchen, you can clamp down on something and keep yourself from reaching for the booze. Alternately, you could come to the party very hungover instead of drunk – you’d be unable to look at alcohol for at least the first hour or two, you would not be able to say much or move and could basically occupy space without the danger of actually saying or doing anything. My other suggestion would be to come in a chicken or gorilla suit – you’re hilarious and you can’t actually get a drink up to your mouth because of your giant, fake head.
Baby Jane

Dear Baby Jane,
It’s summer and I’m ready to party, meet some ladies and get my humpty-hump on. Do you know what that is? It’s S-E-X. What are some great places to meet ladies this summer and get my hands on their rumps?
Horn Doggy
Salt Lake City, Utah

Dear Horn Dog,
There has always been a plethora of rumps in Hollywood, so I suggest starting there. Drive out in a brown van with tiny, tinted windows in the back and make your debut. You may end up in a movie or humping a would-be actress! As for places to party in general… I like any party where there is plenty of shrubbery. I’m usually sitting in there singing to myself, not having S-E-X but I’ve seen many people partake of sex in shrubs and it seems like an OK thing to do. Also, I like parties on boats. If you don’t like the people you’re with, you can stare out at the water and imagine killing yourself or you can tell everyone you just saw a merman and they will leave you alone. The best part about a party on a boat is when you’re the one going “below deck” with the attractive guy in the captain’s hat, gold necklace and no shirt.
Baby Jane

Baby Jane Recommends

baby jane curtain small for blogEvery year I’m looking for a good cause to support or an organization I can really get behind. For the right organization, I’ll even dig up a jam jar of money from the backyard. In 2011 I’m throwing my weight behind the Snack Food Association (SFA). Businesses in SFA include, but are not limited to, manufacturers of potato chips, tortilla chips, cereal snacks, pretzels, popcorn, cheese snacks, snack crackers, meat snacks, pork rinds, snack nuts, party mix, corn snacks, pellet snacks, fruit snacks, snack bars, granola, snack cakes, cookies and various other snacks. I love my pellet snacks! Gimme pellets! It’s been my lifelong dream to eat much like a gerbil in a glass cage.

And snacks have been under attack lately. So I find my membership to be a real statement. Why, in just a few days I’ll be leaving my house for the first time in three months to attend the SFA Acrylamide Conference. I’m going to learn a lot and I’m really going to drink a lot but, most importantly, I heard the snacks between sessions are killer.

And I can’t even talk about SNAXPO 2012 without getting giddy and short of breath. Support the SFA!!

Why Don’t You: Celebrate Memorial Day?

Why don’t you celebrate Memorial Day by skydiving? Afterwards, you can come home and have a big party out on the patio with all your friends and neighbors!

Make the gang this 0h-so-1960s recipe for Beer Baked Bananas:

12 large firm yellow bananas
1 cup beer
1 can frozen orange juice concentrate (undiluted)
1/4 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1/2 cup chopped macadamia nuts
grated rind of one orange

Peel bananas and cut in half. Arrange in shallow pan. Mix beer, orange juice concentrate and brown sugar. Pour evenly over bananas. Sprinkle with nuts and orange rind. Bake at 400 degrees F for 15 minutes or until hot. Serve warm, with some of the juice spooned over each serving.

Serve with pints of beer. And shots of tequila! Eat while sitting in the hot tub listening to Glenn Frey at top volume.

Happy Memorial Day!

The Wednesday Outlook: May 25, 2011

While cleaning out some drawers today, I found the above pic. I think I cut it out of a magazine and saved it because it represented the best of bizarro pop culture – two strange worlds colliding to overlap for a moment of ultimate strangeness. It was taken during the time that Liza was married to David Gest and was having a bit of a revival, thanks to all the press attention and David’s maneuvering [quick Google of David reveals that most recently he “donated thousands of pounds worth of showbiz memorabilia to a Derbyshire (UK) charity he saw on television.” It’s worth hitting this link just to see a photo of David’s face.]

It was also during the time when Britney Spears was hot stuff – before the K-Fed debacle, before breakdowns and shaved heads and rehab and giving power of attorney or control of her financial affairs to her father. It was also a time of flat stomachs. At least for Brit, not sure what’s going on underneath Liza’s sequined shift.

Isn’t it amazing how a time just ten years ago can seem so quaint and innocent? It makes me wonder about today but it also gives me a certain appreciation for today, in a way I can’t quite describe. I often think my days are boring and filled with nothingness because I’m not saving the world or conquering Twitter but they are actually quite rich in simple ways.

I’m touched that I bothered to cut that photo out because it was funny and that I found it today. I’m happy that I walked with Freja to the water tower and sat looking down on a house that I find very beautiful. I’m glad to be working on a collage that’s as strange as this photo – last night I became completely immersed in it, cutting and pasting as I listened to the WTF with Marc Maron podcast (I listened to Garry Shandling and then the one from April with Conan O’Brien, both of which are excellent). These things have meaning to me and often that’s what we need to do here – infuse our lives with meaning that is specific to us and let other things go.

Reading: Confessions of An Art Addict by Peggy Guggenheim, published in 1960

Watching: Far From Heaven (2002), which was a terrible film that received Oscar nominations for its director, Todd Haynes, and female lead, Julianne Moore. What am I missing here, people? I wanted to hit Julianne’s character across the face as well, just like her closeted husband did.

Doing: getting ready to run my first 5K. Baby steps! I’m going to run the Twin Cities Pride Rainbow Run before the Pride Parade on June 26th. I’ve never run a race before.

Also, the superstars at this past weekend’s Art-A-Whirl in Northeast Minneapolis (in my opinion, of course – and we didn’t get to the Northrup King Bldg this year) included painter Patricia Canney for her amazing paintings of dresses, Farida Hughes for her innovative oil paintings of crowds as seen from above – the best is titled Fair Days – and also Victor Yepez for his nearly life-size sculptures of horses constructed from metal – the head on one was a bike frame; on another bike chains served as the horse’s mane and tail… I love.

Anticipating: Trying out breakfast at the new Bread & Pickle at Lake Harriet tomorrow – a run around the lake topped off by a breakfast sandwich… is that bad? Then Memorial Day in Wisconsin. Hell yeah.

99 Projects: Prepster Pouch

Project #2: Preppy Zipper Pouch to hold small  purse essentials (lipstick, Band-Aids, safety pins, free drink tickets, aspirin, my calling cards…)

That’s my attempt at being all “Tennis, anyone?” Here’s a flat view:

Now I’d like to take a moment to point out that although my bag is preppy, it cost very little to make. I used fabric and some trim I’ve had for years. I got the applique of the rackets at ARC for 30 cents (came with an anchor for more preppy fun) and I happened to have a package of tiny pom pom balls in a variety of colors so I used a yellow one for my tennis ball. Let me just show you a close-up:

Sun was kinda bright in the yard, huh?

Also, I went to a church garage sale and found cloth napkins that had never been used for 25 cents and cut one up to be my checked preppy liner for the bag, as seen here:

Best of all, cats like this bag and come to see what it’s all about whenever I bring it out:

Have a Preppy Day!

Wednesday Outlook: May 18, 2011

I’m a list maker. I love nothing more than sitting down with a fresh legal pad and starting in on a list. I make lists for the grocery store, of yard work to be done, things to buy, movies to see, books to read… if any topic contains more than two items, a list is drawn up.

The thing about compulsive list-making is that you quickly abandon perfectly good lists for the thrill of new lists. There is something reassuring about starting a fresh list – today, I am going to get all this stuff finished – which means that old lists linger around and pile up. I have to clean off my desk every other week and dispose of all the old lists – on pieces of paper, on Post-Its, in notebooks, stopping to read them along the way. What happens is that I rediscover old list items and add them to new lists… I compare my list cycle to the water cycle or the life cycle. Lists are formed, grow up, have their time, break down, return to the ether as they decompose only to return again in renewed form.

It’s both maddening and comforting.

Here then, is a sampling of some lists. In order to save you from the mundane  of my “To Do” lists, I culled some from journal entries.

A Short List of Names For Dachshunds
Porgy
Bess
Clyde
Blue Bell
Kitty Hawk
The Baron
Biscuit
Weejuns
Cecil
Myrna
Jules

Madonna’s Gal Pals
Sandra Bernhard (since discarded)
Rosie O’Donnell (ongoing)
Gwyneth Paltrow (since discarded)
Sheryl Crow (status unknown)
Gina Gershon (since discarded)
Ingrid Casares (status unknown)

Phrases & Words Need To Use More Often
Cipher
“Tennis, anyone?”
“Let me give you my card.” – present old-timey calling card
Nightcap, as in “Would you like to come up for a nightcap?”; used generously on Love Boat
Kerchief

Summer 2011 Reading List
“The Classics
1. Age of Innocence – Edith Wharton
2. The Great Gatsby – F. Scott Fitzgerald
3. The Woman in White – Wilkie Collins
4. Out of Africa – Isak Dinesen, a pen name used by the Danish author Baroness Karen von Blixen-Finecke
5. Sons & Lovers – D.H. Lawrence
6. Leaves of Grass – Walt Whitman
7. Walden – Thoreau
8. The Old Testament – a lot of guys a long time ago

“The Contemporary Fare
1. Bossypants – Tina Fey
2. Desperate Characters – Paula Fox
3. Barney’s Version – Mordecai Richler
4. Reading My Father – Alexandra Styron
5. A Visit From the Good Squad – Jennifer Egan
6. Just Kids – Patti Smith
7. A People’s History Of The United States – Howard Zinn

Dancey Songs From the 1990s I’m Considering Buying From iTunes
My Boo – Ghost Town DJs
Freedom – George Michael
Boom Boom Boom – Out Here Brothers
100% Pure Love – Crystal Waters
Touch Me – Cathy Dennis [can you imagine anyone making it in music today with the name Cathy Dennis?]
Groove Is In The Heart – Deee Lite

And now the usual weekly round-up:

Reading: When I Stop Talking, You’ll Know I’m Dead by Jerry Weintraub [most useful nugget so far: life is too short to hang out with morons]

Watching: About to get to episode #2 of the documentary New York. Also anticipating watching The Philadelphia Story tonight!

Doing: ramping up the running and looking for a race to train for… need to run off some winter poundage

Anticipating: Art-A-Whirl this weekend in Northeast Minneapolis!! Love it!

The Greatest Shows On Film

Many of the (potentially) greatest shows we could ever see/experience sadly do not really exist – they are fictional shows within movies. Often I’ll watch a movie that’s about putting on a play or a  musical (or features one) and I’ll wish I could watch it from beginning to end instead of the movie it exists within.

Are you following me?

The number 1 stage show I’d love to see is Satan’s Alley from the movie Stayin’ Alive. Would you not shell out big bucks to go see something called Satan’s Alley? In the film, John Travolta is back as dancer Tony Manero (Saturday Night Fever), now a struggling performer looking for his big break in Manhattan.  This break arrives in the form of the Broadway production Satan’s Alley. On opening night, Tony kisses the female lead even though it’s not in the script! She responds by scratching his face and drawing blood! Then there’s a lot of dancing – think flames, smoke, bare chests, groping… everything you want in a Broadway dance show – and the show is a triumph.

If Peter Travers from Rolling Stone reviewed the show he would say, “I loved every minute! It transformed my life and the way I think about Satan. And alleys.”

Other “shows within movies” worth seeing? I offer a  list:

1. “Street Jazz” from the movie Breakin’ – basically, all the moves from the movie put into a stage show with costumes.

2. The topless Vegas show “Goddess” from the movie Showgirls. I’d have a second bachelorette party if we could fly to Vegas and see Goddess starring Nomi and Molly. Bonus: Celine Dion comes out and sings “My Heart Will Go On” while Nomi has an orgy with Jack Dawson lookalikes from Titanic!

3. “Red, White & Blaine” from Waiting For Guffman. I’ve always wanted to see this from beginning to end as a proper stage show while sitting in a folding chair. I’ve seen the movie several times but believe there must be more scenes from the show that we miss.

4. In the mood for tragedy? What if you could see the entire “Midsummer’s Night Dream” production in Dead Poet’s Society, knowing that the kid is going to go home and off himself after the show? Or that epic production of “Swan Lake” in Black Swan that ends with death? Peter Travers would shit his pants twice and then write a review saying, “If you only see one ballet this year… well, you missed your chance.”

5. I’d pay major bucks to be able to catch a show on the Spinal Tap Smell The Glove tour.

6. For cheap entertainment, imagine being able to go to all the productions put on by fictional high schools. Swing by the Fame graduation to see the performance of “I Sing the Body Electric.” For culture, check out “Scenes From Shakespeare” performed by the kids in Porky’s II. Or how about Max’s play “Heaven and Hell” from the movie Rushmore?

7. For old-timey entertainment how about going to see the Broadway show “Springtime For Hitler” from The Producers? Or the cabaret act starring Sally Bowles from Cabaret? Maybe catch “Spectacular Spectacular” from Moulin Rouge? Or how about going to see what those Muppets are up to over on “The Muppet Show?”

The list could go on and on? What’s your top “show within a movie” that you’d love to be able to see?

The Wednesday Outlook: May 11, 2011

Sun is coming out. The bluejays are gettin’ busy.

This is the first year I’ve noticed just how rambunctious and war-mongering bluejays are. What does it say about me that I suddenly notice and care about bird activity? That I’m getting old?

Well, I am wearing some Old Lady Shorts today. They are hot pink but they have an elastic waist with a tie. I promise never to wear them anywhere other than in the yard and to walk the dog. But they are so comfy. Yes, I got them at JC Penney. Sometimes I can’t resist going there and buying old lady clothing. It seems so taboo. Something you would never tell anyone. Maybe I should write it on a postcard for PostSecret.

Speaking of old lady clothing, I am considering starting a store on etsy, along with the rest of hipster America (if you can’t beat them, join them and make fun of them while doing it)! My hope is to focus primarily on preppy clothing, as it’s one of my new obsessions. I love preppy clothing and I love the mix of Preppy/Punk. Or Preppy/Grunge. Or Preppy/Metal. Observation: I am wearing my Old Lady Shorts with my Van Halen t-shirt.

Note: I am not saying Van Halen is metal. I think of them more as rock. Monsters of Rock, to be exact!

So I’m on a quest for preppy clothing (etsy stipulates that vintage clothes have to be at least 20 years old, so I’m trying to stick to that and have “1991 or older” firmly fixed in my head but I buy other preppy items as well hoping to be able to have a pop-up shop in Minneapolis at some later date).

For preppy clothing advice, I’ve got my manuals: True Prep and The Official Preppy Handbook to guide my way. Also trying to settle on a name. Any suggestions??? I’ve got a short list but nothing that I’m cra-a-zy for.

As I’ve started my clothing search I’ve come across the wonderful world of preppy blogs and I thought I’d share some of the stand-outs here because you might be interested in penny loafers, sailing, gin and tonics and bright colors too!

Unabashedly Prep (this is a pretty big one/well-known)
Ivy Style
The Daily Prep (really love that her name is Muffy)
The Preppy Princess

Nautical By Nature (my fave title)
The Classic Preppy

Well, that should be enough to get you started. As to what else I’m up to…

Reading: The Art of Non-Conformity by Chris Guillebeau (as if I need help…), The Pets by Bragi Olafsson and News From the World by Paula Fox. I have a bad habit of reading several books at one time.

Watching: We’ve been on a disastrous movie streak. We turned of the 1980s classic Roxanne halfway through and then suffered through all of Morning Glory. I’m convinced that Harrison Ford suffered a stroke in the past few years, partially paralyzing the left side of his face. Has anyone else noticed this? Not that this has anything to do with the quality of Morning Glory… he would have successfully chewed the scenery with or without partial facial paralysis. That movie had pretty good reviews so it greatly saddened me to find it so… mundane and badly written, acted.

Doing: Trying to get the yard in order. After attacking the bushes at the side of our drive and hacking them down to just about nothing (assisted by my parents) I’ve gone on to trim bushes, dig up weeds and do some planting. Yesterday I just about killed myself out there. I went into Gardener Zombie mode where all I could see was the next weed to be pulled, the next branch to be cut… and I forgot about things like drinking water, staying out of the blazing sun and not straining my knees too much. All the while the bluejays were having their fights in the trees. What can I say? I love a sharp hedge clipper and lots of perennials to put into the ground. Especially when I should be inside figuring out my job situation. Ahem.

Anticipating: The movie Bridesmaids comes out this weekend… maybe that will provide the comic relief I’m looking for. Also, in Minneapolis, the Linden Hills neighborhood is having its annual garage sale. I’ve scored lots of good stuff there before, including a favorite vintage sweater for $1! Could it be a preppy clothing bonanza?

My Birthday, 1863

My official birthday portrait with my lady friend Ellen. We’re for the Union, of course.

This was taken at Professor Bellows Old Time Photography at the Mall of America.  It was fairly quick – one downside is that they don’t really let you paw through all the costumes… you pick your era and they show you about 4 dress options. And you keep your pants on. Did you know that? The dresses tie up the back. I guess it’s good when you get to keep your pants on. Saves a lot of time.

If I ever have my vintage store, I might reserve a back room for portrait shenanigans, although I’d leave out of the usual Civil War/Old West/Ragtime/Flapper choices. Why not have a Mad Men-esque setting? Or 1950s sock hop? Or a 1969 Hell’s Angels rally? The possibilities are endless. I think there’s an untapped market here. The Civil War thing might be played out.

I don’t know that we ever grow out of our desire to dress up and be someone else for awhile. When I was little we had a lot of my mom’s and dad’s  old clothes to play with. There was my dad’s hats and uniforms from his time in the Army Reserves. Dresses my mom wore to dances. A velvet jacket. A leopard print beret. White gloves. We loved to dress up in them. I think dress-up clothes when you’re little can really spark imagination – you’re in the clothes, you’ve become the character. It’s different from dressing up a doll.

It opens you up to all sorts of possibilities.

Tapping Into The Zeitgeist #2

Here are the 5 things I’ve been thinking about lately. Have you been thinking about them too?

SCOTTIE DOGS

Scotties are on the rise. I see dozen of them walking, frolicking through meadows, chasing balls… And the Scottie is now a hot design element as well. Why, just today I bought an umbrella that has a Scottie dog head as it’s handle. It is plaid as well, making it just about the most perfect object one could buy. Anyway, Scotties are hot and expect to see a lot more of them. I can never decide if I like the white ones or the black ones better. It’s like the choice between vanilla and chocolate ice cream. The best is when a Scottie owner has been thoughtful enough to get one of each. Or, like my neighbor, have one that is brindle in coloring. Woah.

Continue reading Tapping Into The Zeitgeist #2

99 Projects: Head Shop Wallet

Project #1: Wallet with Skeleton Patch

I’ve had the patch I sewed onto this wallet for a long time – ha ha ha! a skeleton playing a guitar! I knew it would be right up Keith’s alley. Except now people talk less about alleys and more about wheelhouses.

But I was never sure what to do with the patch. Finally, I decided it would probably only look good on a wallet. And I wanted to make that wallet. So I combed the Internet, which is a talent of mine, and found this tutorial. It was by far the best out of all I read and very easy. I thought it would take me a few days to make it and I was all hunkered down to sew along with tea, podcasts, the dog, etc. when I realized that I could finish it in one day. I kinda like that!

The other thing I like about this project? That you use a leather skirt to make it. Finally, an actual use for all those leather skirts I see at thrift stores. I thrifted a skirt for $8. Don’t ask me why it was so much… thrift stores can get all uppity when it comes to leather. I could have gotten a royal blue leather skirt for $4 but something told me Keith would not go for that. Royal blue leather skirts are not in his wheelhouse.

If you have any interest in making a wallet like this (the patch is totally optional!) look for a larger skirt with minimal seams – you’ll get the most leather for your thrift dollar. Don’t mess around with leather jackets and coats – too expensive even at thrifts (and by that I mean they sometimes want $20 to $30!). Although, if you got really into making these and found a sweet leather trench coat that would allow you to turn out several wallets, well, it would be worth the scratch.

[That’s cool person lingo for money.]

Here are some more photos. Sorry I’m so bad at the photos, folks. I try. I really do.

Open on one side... wonky stitching...
I cut a piece of vinyl from an old pencil case for the ID holder!
"Hey, man, you got a joint?"

True Duds

There is a certain band/duo who are doing a lot of press of late because they have a new (fourth) album coming out. Being a mixture of unhip and distracted, I have never gotten around to listening to their music but I do read a lot of magazines and these two keep popping up in all of them this spring. This morning I read another ridiculous interview with them in the mag Nylon. Granted, the interview was about their favorite things, giving them full license to prattle on about all the crazy cool stuff they like. But they end up sounding absolutely dotty.

I can’t resist writing my own version of just such an interview, with a band I’ll call The Murderers.

TRULY AMAZINGLY GREAT HIPSTERS

In our new feature celebrating our favorite artists’ favorite stuff, The Murderers Alexa Dearheart and Phillip Nails muse on minivans, guitars and the advantages of tight pants.

“When we met, I found out that Alexa was obsessed with Dorothy Parker and the Algonquin Round Table. That was enough for us to start a band together,” Phillip Nails of The Murderers says while taking refuge in a Williamsburg cafe made to look like a grandmother’s rec room. “We just loved that whole Vicious Circle vibe,” adds bandmate Alexa Dearheart. “And the Menendez brothers,” says Nails, referring to the two brothers who went to prison in the 1990s for killing their parents. “We send them flowers on their birthdays. We’re craaa-aazy.”

Inspiration for their music always comes from something visual. “I mean, I picked my guitar because it looked good and it’s pink,” Dearheart says, sitting in a La-Z-Boy recliner, unassuming in jeans, a flowered blouse and lots of gold jewlery from the 1980s, while Nails looks dapper in a cropped wool blazer, a tangle of scarves and necklaces and really tight gray pants. This month, the band release their fourth album Your EKG Came Back Normal, which exhibits neither the skanky meanness of Keep Your Thoughts To Yourself or the go-go dance rhythms of Take A Snort, but something decidedly more downbeat. Bongo drums, spoken word ballads and even a touch of Phil Collins combine to create a record that’s equal parts hip and untenable.

“Rock ‘n’ roll is normally regurgitated stuff from the 60s and 70s,” says Nails. “I think we’ve really hit on something here by ripping off the 80s and pairing it with some World Beat from the 90s. I’m talking rebirth here.”

Over a half-dozen pints of Guinness (Nails) and a rice milk white tea and peppermint schnapps latte (Dearheart), the duo share their obsessions that have shaped them.

Minivans
Dearheart: We want to drive what no one else we know will ever drive. I’m nuts for driving and I like to do it in comfort.
Nails: Incredible lines on the new Town & Country! I get chills.

Thomas Kincaid
Nails: When I really want to chill, I look at all the Thomas Kincaid art I’ve purchased and listen to New Order. I lived in Sacramento for six years and I totally get what he means when he says he’s a Painter of Light. There is no light like the light in Sacramento!

Cool Clothes
Nails: Recently, I discovered hemming. My pants will never be the same. Also, wearing pants several sizes too small so you can really see what kind of manhood I’ve got going on. I love sweatshops in Asian countries for my knitwear. What I really need is a white suit though, hopefully in seersucker.
Dearheart: I love stripes. With checks and mustard yellow shoes. I’m very bizarre!

Nutella
Dearheart: I recently had a lovely stew made with Nutella and veal. I can’t get enough of the stuff. My mum always said there are two kinds of people in the world – those who love the taste of hazelnut and those who don’t. I’m firmly in the first camp.

Recording Albums In The Middle of Nowhere
Nails: We always go off somewhere in the boonies, mostly so we can talk about how we were in the boonies and not doing Twitter or Facebook and really concentrating on our art.
Dearheart: We loved this studio garage we found in Ypsilanti, Michigan.
Nails: We would sit in there, eat Twizzlers all day and just jam.

Guitars
Nails: I have 40 guitars. I collect them. My favorite guitar is the first one I ever got, at age 14 because when I went to take lessons the teacher told me I have no natural talent and he ended it. He said my younger sister would be the guitar prodigy but now she’s an accountant and look at me!! LOOK AT ME!

The White Horse Tavern
Dearheart: We love to go there and drink.
Nails: I don’t want to brag but I drank 19 straight whiskeys there once. That’s one better than Dylan Thomas. So… I’m just saying.

The Bride Wore White

Kate Middleton looked stunning on April 29th in her traditional, satin and lace gown designed by Sarah Burton at Alexander McQueen.

“The corseted bodice suggested Victorian tradition, the long translucent lace sleeves evoked Princess Grace, the white veil a reminder of the dead but not forgotten Diana, yet none of this swerving into kitsch. The symbolism of the bridal bouquet was also beautifully judged – lily-of-the-valley (for happiness), Sweet William, and stems from a myrtle (marriage) planted by Queen Victoria – and although I was prepared to be irritated by any reference to the new Middleton coat of arms, Catherine’s handmade diamond oak-leaf and acorn earrings inspired by the crest seemed sweet, rather than smug.”

Me and my bride paper doll reunited on the same weekend as the Royal wedding? Coincidence? I think not.

The Wednesday Outlook – April 27, 2011

photo by keith pille

SPRING CLEANING
I’ve been doing some preliminary spring cleaning lately. I have yet to get out into the yard due to the lack of nice days. The only truly nice day in recent memory was Easter Sunday, and that required us to take the bikes out for a ride and then sit in our chairs in the back yard while enjoying the first fire of the year. I’ve never been so happy to have a face full of smoke and ash raining down on me as I drew sketches of Freja pouting.

She hates fire. It seems like a good instinct for an animal to have – self-preservation and all – but it’s annoying the way she moves about the yard, making a show of not going near the fire but being within eyesight as she curls into a Pout Ball.

Spring cleaning… I went through all my socks and decided that I am simply not the kind of  person who wears mid-length sock. They have to be low-rise for exercise and knee-high for daily wear. I don’t want a sock that pouches somewhere around my ankle. It’s good to have this cleared up.
Continue reading The Wednesday Outlook – April 27, 2011

The REAL Saddest Days in British History

As the Royal Wedding Hype Machine rolls and grinds its way towards Friday, April 29th, American “news” outlets are going crazy. The way they act, they are seriously sad that we don’t have our own crumbling royal family to dote upon. The past couple of evenings, Keith and I have had Entertainment Tonight on, our default, self-torture device in the evenings as we eat dinner. Usually in the spring we have dinner out on the porch but it was a cold, rainy day and we resigned ourselves to the couch.

Every night this week so far, a “reporter” on ET has talked about the death of Princess Diana (because what better time than a wedding to get maudlin and morbid?) and called it “the saddest day in the history of Britain.” And Keith and I exchange a look, his much more pained than I. So tonight I suggested that he please provide a list of the much sadder times in British history. Considering how long its been there, there have to have been some pretty bleak days, much bleaker than the death of Diana, who was cool and all but… well, you know.

So now we have this list to provide us all with some perspective:

DAYS IN BRITAIN’S HISTORY SADDER THAN THE DAY
PRINCESS DIANA DIED

1. Death of Prince Albert, December 14, 1861: The event itself is fairly sad (he died of typhoid fever) but the especially sad part is that Queen Victoria spent the next 60 years mourning, naming everything in the country after him. True love never dies.

2. The Great Fire of London, 1666: Gigantic fire that gutted the central part of the city. Of 80,000 people living in London, 70,000 lost their homes. Candle in the wind, indeed.

3. The First Day of the Battle of Britain, July 10, 1940: Germany started bombing the crap out of London, laying waste to the city until October.

4. The London Bombings, July 7, 2005: Coordinated suicide attacks on the London public transport. Four bombs went off, killing 56 people and injuring 700.

5. Every day of World War I. Britain lost an entire generation of people. Total lost: 1,114,914 soldiers with an additional 2 million wounded. Weigh that against one woman dying in a car crash and… my heart is with all those soldiers on the battlefield.

Tapping Into The Zeitgeist #1

I’ve been experiencing a phenomenon lately in which I get interested in something because I see it in a book, movie or just a random photo and then there it is, showing up online or in fashion spreads, etc. I can’t really claim, “I was thinking about that first!” because there is a weird collective conscious, I think, among humans in which we all kind of start grooving on the same stuff at once. It’s hard to say how this happens but it’s probably that “circle of life, we’re all connected” thingy again. You just can’t escape it unless you live in a cave. And that gets lonely.

So here are some of the things I’m thinking about, a lot, and we’ll see how it plays out in the next few weeks.

PERGOLAS

I started thinking about pergolas because I love the name. I was walking along and the word popped into my head. “Pergola!” It’s one of the best words. I knew they were like arbors but I had to check what they actually look like – thus this drawing. Pergolas are popular in rich people gardens, or should I say grounds, because you can walk under them and stop to whisper about stuff – either gossip or money. In a book I found at the library (Garden Retreats by David & Jeanie Stiles) with directions for how to build a pergola, it said, “The pergola’s visual appeal is the repetition of the roof elements, which create a rhythm of light and dark as you pass under them. It’s charm lies in the fact that it appears to be a strong architectural element with classical details, yet it really serves no purpose except to show off climbing roses or clematis, and therefore might be considered a “folly” by some.” I love things that are there purely for folly, don’t you? Traditionally, pergolas are for walking under but there’s no reason you couldn’t build one over a stone patio for a lovely effect.

PINK JEANS/CIGARETTE PANTS

I hope you appreciate my handiwork with a marker here! Colored denim is definitely on the rise but the only colors I would consider would be red or pink. I just don’t go for teal jeans. I don’t even wear white jeans. But red or pink jeans are HOT. Also, if you could find them, cigarette pants in pink. What’s that? Cigarette pants are slim-cut pants made popular in the 1950s. They are longer and slimmer cut than capris. Please, do me a favor and burn your capri pants. I was in Target recently with a co-worker and there were two women there shopping the clothing and one of them said, “I told my kids to give me gift certificates for Kohl’s for my birthday because I NEED, NEED, NEED capris.” Really? Don’t you want to be a bit more dignified than that? Anyway, the best example I found online is brought to us by Roberto Cavalli – a pair of jeans that are HOT, HOT, HOT but that few of us commoners can afford. I share them anyway, although I’m not condoning the top. By the way, when I say pink I don’t mean Chadwick’s pink or Liz Claiborne pink. Not bubblegum. Think brighter.

EAMES ELEPHANT

Isn’t he cute? I saw an orange one is a photo in a book – it was in a living room, tucked on a shelf. Although you can’t tell it from the line drawing, this is done in one sheet of molded plastic. I scanned the picture from the book just because I loved how the orange elephant looked… and then two weeks later I saw it featured in a magazine. The store Design Within Reach has them in red and white. One thing that has always baffled me about Design Within Reach is its name. Clearly it’s not really “Within Reach” unless they mean just a few inches away from your fingertips and you can grasp but you won’t be able to grab hold. Everything seems expensive – expensive enough that it’s a store for the well-to-do… but couldn’t they shop at any number of design stores or get the real thing from artists? So then… who is that store for, exactly? I digress. I love this elephant, is what I’m trying to say, but I doubt I will pay $300 for one.

SWING CHAIRS

 

I saw a photo in the magazine Dwell, which we get at home because Keith is a member of the Walker Art Center and got it for free and which I never understand but then I’m not a Dutch designer of wooden toys living in a prefab home, in which a swinging, basket-like pod is suspended over a body of water like a creek or river and a guy is sitting in it wearing a white outfit. I can’t remember if he’s just looking out or reading a book but my first reaction was – I want to do that. I want to read a book (more on which book coming up) while swinging in a pod over a burbling brook. Is that too much to hope for? I think it captures several human longings at once – solitude, the love of water, comfort. Lady Gaga is on to something with her entrance in an egg from a few months ago. We need to retreat and be reborn sometimes. Anyway, this Swingasan chair from Pier 1 is not quite the same as the pod I saw in the photo but it comes close… It requires it’s own stand but if you are handy you could suspend it from a very strong tree in your yard. Maybe you could position a plastic pool below you to get the water effect. Anyway, again, I stumbled across this online after seeing the photo in Dwell… proving that many people in the world are thinking about pod-like swings.

THE GREAT GATSBY

The Great Gatsby is one of the all-time classics. This is my summer to reread it for about the 5th time. I think the country is going to be in a Gatsby mood this summer, maybe because a lot of us know what it feels like to lose right now, or at least feel a bit battered. Which is a good thing. We could use a time of melancholy to balance us out. There has been much talk on the Internet of the next Great Gatsby film adaptation – Baz Luhrmann, 3D, Australia – all thing that make me a bit nervous. How can we put The Great American Novel, written by a Midwesterner no less, into the hands of the man who made Moulin Rouge and loves Nicole Kidman? My suggestion is to skip all that when it comes about and get your dose this summer instead – curl up in your pod swing with the old-fashioned novel version. And, while you’re at it, try to draw the eyes on the original, iconic cover as I’ve attempted to do here. Pretty darn hard! Love that cover? Now you can wear it.

Stuff Keith Watches When I’m Not Home

One of my favorite things to do, when I come back from an afternoon or evening out that didn’t include Keith is to find out what he watched while I was away. I think it’s very telling of his tastes when he’s not obliged to please me. I should say, however, that he  does try to watch things he finds interesting that he believes I will find uninteresting so that I don’t miss out on something we would enjoy watching together. That’s love.

1. The Venture Brothers

2. David Lynch’s cut of Dune (its very important to him that I clarify that it was David Lynch’s cut)

3. Star Trek I – VI plus Star Trek Next Generation First Contact (His ratings: II is “fantastic,” IV and VI are “pretty good,” I has its charms but “tries too hard to be 2001,” III and V are both “unbelievably shitty.” First Contact not too bad.)

4. Stripes

5. Triumph Of the Will (Yeah, I don’t know either. When questioned about this, Keith said it’s an important historical document but that it was boring after the first few minutes)

6. Moon

7. The Final Countdown

8. George Carlin: It’s Bad For Ya

9. Duck Soup

10. Citizen Kane

11. Deadwood (I’ve seen Deadwood, this was a repeat watching)

12. Star Trek Next Generation episodes

13. Letters From Iwo Jima

14. Iron Eagle

15. Futurama

16. 2001

17. The first two X-Men movies

On deck:

HBO’s John Adams miniseries
The TV series The Prisoner, which he borrowed from a friend. Let me amend that – which he had pressed on him by a friend. This was 8 months ago. No Prisoner has yet to be watched but Keith’s feeling the pressure. What to say when the friend gets around to asking him if he enjoyed it? I maintain that watching an entire series just because someone pressed their box set on you is being too Midwestern.

The Wednesday Outlook – March 23, 2011

The weather it is bad. The weather is nasty, like a crazy, nastyass honey badger. On my foray to the bus stop yesterday, I was soaked through and my umbrella threatened to turn itself inside out. Today I will be on a polar expedition. This is one of the hazards of working – you have to turn off the mind-lulling Today Show and leave the couch to venture out into weather.

What I really want to do is read all day. I have an entire stack of books waiting for me to dig in and I never seem to find the time right now. I’m working on Furious Love: Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton and the Marriage of the Century. I’ve never been a Taylor fan but I find her personal life interesting and the book is making me want to watch Cleopatra from 1962. This is the movie where Liz and Richard met and began their affair. Richard was married to a kind, funny woman from Wales, where he grew up, and Liz was married to Eddie Fischer, who comes off as a simpering water boy, willing to fetch Liz’s vodka and then make sure she didn’t drink to the point of oblivion.

If I got tired of Elizabeth’s privileged life of villas and enormous jewels, I could read Just Kids by Patti Smith. I will admit that I know absolutely nothing about Patti Smith except that people revere her as some kind of punk rock goddess. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard a single song of hers. Admitting this is like saying that I never brush my teeth or that I’ve never seen Star Wars. People have been raving about her memoir of her friendship with photographer Robert Mapplethorpe, so I decided that this is the point at which I jump in.

Or, I could contemplate baking. One a whim, I requested The Gourmet Cookie Book: The Single Best Recipe From Each Year 1941-2009 from the library. I can only imagine that I was feeling domestic and maybe a bit hungry at the time. It is great cookie porn – each page features a layout of recipe and then a photo of cookies against a stark black, white or red background. The cookies are arranged in geometric patterns, like this:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The thing is, our stove is on the fritz. The gas will simply shut off if not constantly monitored and the up and downs of the uneven gas flow make baking nearly impossible. The last time I made cookies they melded with the cookie sheets in such a way that removal would have required hours of chipping and soaking so I took all the cookie sheets with the hardened cookie slabs still on them and threw them away. So I guess I would have to make due with just staring at the  cookie porn all day (or all the stuff in Baked Explorations, yet another baking book I got from the library for no reason). Probably after 40 minutes I’d break down and walk to Patisserie 46 on 46th & Grand. They make amazing cookies (and chocolate croissants) and all I have to do is hand over some cash to get them.

Watching: Breaking Bad Season 2, also gagging over those Chico’s commercials that air every morning about 70 times. “I’m SO Chico’s.”

Buying: Marimekko umbrellas from Finn Style. With this Swag Deal through Mpls St Paul Magazine, you can get a stylish umbrella for 50% off! Yes, that’s half-off, folks. So a $40 umbrella is only gonna cost you $20. In case you couldn’t do that math. What I did… I went to the website and when I checked out I put the promo code “SWAG” in and I got the discount. This is good through March 28th.

Anticipating: Patton Oswalt at Acme Comedy Club on Thursday night! Lucky enough to hear about this semi-secret gig before it sold out.

Update: I tromped through the snow only to get to the bus station and find out that my bus was running 20 minutes late and that Elizabeth Taylor died this morning. Huh. Can I go back to bed now? Seriously, check out Furious Love if you’re interested in getting some dish on Liz. She helped the writers with the book and ponied up some private photos or it.

Also, for the quick skinny on Liz and her husbands, check out my blog post Elizabeth Taylor: Reflections In A Violet Eye.

And, just a quick rant… if you are big enough that you take up TWO bus seats, well, I feel sort of bad for you, but really? Really? You’re going to sit there taking up two seats with your stupid Blue Tooth thingy in your ear? Grrr….. honey badger don’t like that shit.

You, Too, Can Be A Little Bit Country

Recently I put together a play list of country hits for my dad’s birthday. He’s always been a country fan and when I was growing up this embarrassed me to no end. But after seeing a commercial for a collection of Time Life “Classic Country” hits, I was inspired to go out and make him some CDs.

As I made the playlist (which grew to two CD’s worth of songs) I found myself… liking some of them quite a bit. Woah.

I find myself listening to these country hitz every couple of days (especially when I’m painting our wood trim upstairs, which I am forever painting. The wood trim. Will it ever be completely painted?) I started wondering if maybe I’m not the only one who just needs a nudge to get into some country? I know, country music is the last hipster taboo to be broken but, damn it, I’m not that cool anyway. I’m uncool and so, screw it, here are some good country songs.

Note: I purposely did NOT go to the Hank Williams well. Because that’s the well everyone goes to when they say they like classic country. Also note that, to me, “classic” means anything my dad listened to while he drove us around in his Ford pick-up or worked in the garage or in his workshop downstairs. So, yeah, there’s some Alabama.

Keep in mind that some of these are specifically aimed at a particular 68-year-old man. Case in point: Anne Murray. My dad has always had a strange infatuation with Anne Murray. As in, he thought she was hot stuff. I know, weird. He used to blast Anne on Sunday mornings when he was trying to make us get up to go to church at 8 a.m. Now my parents don’t go to church at all and I have to wonder what all those tortuous mornings of Anne were really good for.

The Krazy Kountry Hitz
Volume 1

Mountain of Love – Johnny Rivers
When Will I Be Loved – Linda Ronstadt
Are You Sure Hank Done It This Way – Waylon Jennings
Take This Job and Shove It – Johnny Paycheck
I Got Mexico – Eddy Raven
All My Exes Live In Texas – David Nall
I Was Country When Country Wasn’t Cool – Barbara Mandrell & George Jones
If I Said You Had A Beautiful Body Would You Hold It Against Me – The Bellamy Brothers
It’s Only Make Believe – Conway Twitty
Mountain Music – Alabama
Six Days On The Road – Dave Dudley
I Can Help – Billy Swan
The Devil Went Down To Georgia -  Charlie Daniels
Honky Tonkin’s What I Do Best – Marty Stuart & Travis Tritt
Heaven’s Just a Sin Away – The Kendalls
Love In The First Degree – Alabama
Don’t It Make My Brown Eyes Blue – Crystal Gale
Georgia On My Mind – Willie Nelson
Lost In The Fifties Tonight – Ronnie Milsap
Theme From Dallas – Best TV Show Theme Song Ever!

Volume 2:

East Bound and Down – Jerry Reed
Southern Nights – Glen Campbell
Tulsa Time – Don Williams
High On A Mountain Top – Loretta Lynn
I Ain’t Never – Mel Tillis
We’ve Got Tonight – Kenny Rogers
A Place To Fall Apart – Janie Frickie & Merle Haggard
You and I – Crystal Gayle & Eddie Rabbit
Louisiana Woman, Mississippi Man – Loretta Lynn & Conway Twitty
King Of The Road – Roger Miller
You Don’t Know Me – Mickey Gilley
I Wouldn’t Have Missed It For The World – Ronnie Milsap
Forever and Ever, Amen – Randy Travis
Could I Have This Dance – Anne Murray
Back In The Saddle Again – Moe Bandy
Darlin’ Companion – Johnny Cash
Here You Come Again – Dolly Parton
Always On My Mind – Willie Nelson

 

 

NotShallow.org Enhances User Experience With Version 2.0

New Categories & Some Tiny Drawings Position The Blog As A Leader In A Global Pastime

MINNEAPOLIS–(BUSINESS WIRE)— Notshallow.org, the #1 rad blog where a hilarious woman meets her public, today announced the launch of its new look, a feature rich site – a.k.a. NotShallow.org Version 2.0! As part of the re-launch, NotShallow.org now incorporates a social integration feature and categories designed to enhance the reader’s experience while also creating  a fun, secure, and entertaining online blog-reading experience.

In a hundred dollar industry that triples with new blogs every hour, NotShallow.org is set to become a blog people sometimes read due to its forward thinking, constant innovation, and because they have time to waste.

“I’m excited to offer my fans all of these great new features and categories on version 2.0 with absolutely no expectation that they pay for any content whatsoever,” said NotShallow CEO Rebecca Collins. “NotShallow.org is poised to become the gold standard in the niche-less blog industry.”

Re-designed and re-engineered to provide a more engaging environment, the new notshallow.org sets the tone for other blogs to follow by offering a social integration feature.

“You can totally read my Twitter feed,” Collins explained.

And, in alignment with her habit of sitting around trying to figure out what new stuff to put on the blog, NotShallow.org has expanded its category offerings with its ‘99 Projects,’ ‘Look/See,’ ‘Simple Little Picture,’ and other totally radical ideas. Now there is something for 30% of readers.

“In a burgeoning industry, I’m casually considering revolutionizing the blog experience and sort of lead the way by example sometimes because I continually think of funny or interesting stuff to post,” said Collins. “It is my hope that sometimes readers will comment on my blog instead of just spammers in Russia trying to push expensive pens.”

Look for new categories and features to be revealed in the weeks to follow.

About Notshallow.org
Minneapolis, MN-based notshallow.org is not the #1 blog on the Internet. Still, it’s a fun read and way to kill some time. Notshallow.org has been built from the ground up to ensure that web users who stumble across it spent at least one minute experiencing a safe, risk-free, secure and ethical blog environment. You will see and read some funny shit.

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The Wednesday Outlook – March 9, 2011

Hello!

It’s snowing. I do not approve of this snow situation.

What have I been up to lately? Well, I’m excited to say that I’ve been masterminding a redesign of Not Shallow. Within a week I should have the new site up and I’m going to have ALL NEW CONTENT as well. It will be Not Shallow 2.0, “the upgrade you never knew you wanted but now desperately crave.” I’ve been working on it this week and let’s just say that it involves a drawing of a prawn.

Like the rest of America, I’ve been watching the Charlie Sheen implosion with great interest. Yes, I’ve been treating it as if I bought a ticket to see the sideshow. Each morning I eagerly tune in to the morning news to see what fascinating videos/podcasts/interviews he crafted overnight.

Now there is a movement to stop gaping at Sheen. Craig Ferguson and the ladies on The View both said in recent broadcasts that this is certainly not a sideshow, it is a person with a major illness and we should not be watching from the bleachers. To a large extent, I agree with them, if for no other reason than there are kids involved. Kids who have a dad who went down into the well and doesn’t seem to be planning to resurface anytime soon and a mom who is doing daytime rehab.

But it pains me to agree with the ladies on The View.

And it seems impossible, this being America, for us to just ignore Sheen, what with the machete waving and “tiger blood” drinking (probably some kind of acai berry drink spiked with vodka). But I think the comedian Marc Maron has it exactly right when he said on a recent WTF podcast that Charlie Sheen is like Icarus – he’s in a manic state now and feels invincible but he’s going to fly too close to the sun and those wings are going to burn off. I mean, you can smell singed feathers, can’t you?
Continue reading The Wednesday Outlook – March 9, 2011

The Wednesday Outlook – March 2, 2011

This morning as I walked Freja the wind stung my eyes and face, making it difficult to breathe. And I remembered that last year, on St. Patrick’s Day, there was no snow left on the ground.

Wah?

There was nothing to do to raise my spirits but go thrifting, so I headed over to Arc’s Value Village in Richfield. Pretty much anyone who’s anyone in the world of thrifting goes to Arc, not that we have any idea who each other are. Oh, sure, sometimes you’ll see the signs. Today, for example, there were quite a few just-passed-middle-aged men scoping out the women’s jewelry. These are guys who sell stuff on eBay for a living. And when I tried to muscle my way in to see the goods, I sure got an earful from two guys talkin’ shop.

Gruff Guy: Things aren’t what they used to be. I started this, what, 15 years ago? Oh, the pickings were good.

Guy With Strange Hair: Yeah, I’ve been in it for 8 but I’ve seen a steady decline. There’s no more good stuff.

Gruff Guy: It’s the economy! Everyone is selling stuff now to make money! They’re ruining it! They need to go back to work.

[Let me interject what I’m thinking here. Number one, I’m trying to imagine all the thrifting riches from 15 years ago when people looked down on it. Number two, I’m getting kind of annoyed because it’s not that easy for people to just “go back to work,” and, in a capitalist system, competition is part of the downer, boys.]

Guy With Strange Hair: I used to go to the Goodwill over on (mumble mumble) and I had so much stuff in my cart that I wanted that I could barely afford it all.

Gruff Guy: Everyone’s looking for my stuff. Old women are looking for my stuff. I can’t find golf clubs now to save my life. Old people. Young people. Short people. Tall people.

Guy With Strange Hair: The only way to sell something now is if you have the only one of it available in the country at that time. I had that last year…

Gruff Guy: You had that? With what?

Guy With Strange Hair: That leather jacket I had. I had the only one available and I sold it for $800…

Gruff Guy: So the only way to make money is to… it’s through scarcity.

Guy With Strange Hair: Yeah, that’s about it.
Continue reading The Wednesday Outlook – March 2, 2011

Let’s Finish That Feast

Last night while watching the Oscars I saw a Fancy Feast commercial that got all messed up somehow… I think they played it in the wrong order or something. I swear the first part came last and then they cut it off… I was pissed! I thought I’d missed out on a Fancy Feast saga!

In case this happened to you, too, I went and found it on YouTube. Turns out it’s just a lame cat food commercial… and yet, so much more compelling than those Oscars were.

I did think of a way James Franco and Anne Hathaway could redeem themselves – they could remake this commercial together and give it some darker ending. I mean, no kitties can be harmed. But maybe the woman loves the cat more than the man and she breaks up with him. Maybe the woman really has curly hair and then straightens it so she can make it in Hollywood and then the man thinks she’s a manic loser.

I don’t know… Franco is the one with all the ideas.

How To Speak Charlie Sheen

Over the past week, we’ve heard and seen a lot of the Sheen and it ain’t over yet (nor is it the first time Sheen has jumped the tracks – there was all that 9/11 conspiracy stuff). Sometimes it can be hard to decipher what he’s saying, especially if you were still a child in the 1980s and aren’t up on slang used in 1987.

Here is a guide to understanding the lingo and the worldview of The Winningest Man in Showbiz. All of these words of wisdom have been culled from his various appearances over the past week.

“I’m tired of pretending I’m not a total bitchin’ rock star from Mars.”

What This Means: I can no longer contain my craziness and so I’m hanging it out to dry on the line. Take a good, long look.

Bitchin’ is 1980s lingo for awesome, amazing, super cool, rad, etc. etc. “Rock Star from Mars” means cokehead.

“The run I was on made Sinatra, Flynn, Jagger, Richards just look like droopy-eyed armless children.”

What This Means: I do a lot of drugs. I do so many drugs I don’t really deserve to be here anymore but… hey, whatcha gonna do? I keep trying to die but I keep on making it.

Armless children refers to “Thalidomide babies,” of the early 1960s – these are children who were born deformed because their mother took this dangerous sedative while pregnant.
Continue reading How To Speak Charlie Sheen