Today is my 55th birthday. I thought this video would be appropriate, especially since:
- I don’t have a driver’s license;
- I look exactly like Sammy Hagar;
- This song was recorded in 1984, which is a long time ago.
Happy birthday to me!
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Monday, July 9, 2012
I love a good calamity
On the morning after the Fourth of July, Partner told me something he’d just seen on TV: some huge fiasco at the San Diego fireworks display the night before.
Later in the day, idly, I looked up the video of the event. And I nearly died laughing.
Every single thing went off at once. There were four barges full of fireworks, and something sparked them all simultaneously. It’s like watching the sun explode. It lasts approximately fifteen seconds, and then it dies down, and you hear the crowd applauding tentatively, waiting for more.
And there ain’t no more.
No one was hurt. Many, however, were disappointed. Some were “angry.”
Angry at what? I ask. That was just about the funniest and best fireworks display I’ve ever seen. It was mercifully brief, and bizarrely intense. If I were a kid watching that, I would know in my heart that I had just seen the best fireworks display ever.
But then, I love a good calamity.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
For Sunday: Art Garfunkel sings "The Waters of March"
I have loved this song since the late 1970s and wanted to share it with you. I knew that it was written by Antonio Carlos Jobim, but had only heard it through this lovely unearthly Art Garfunkel version, from his album “Breakaway”; I did not know until recently that Jobim not only wrote the song, and the Portuguese lyrics, but the very allusive and strange English lyrics also.
I have always had very specific associations with the images here, and they’re kind of dark in places. When I hear: “A scratch, a lump / It is nothing at all,” I think of a cancer diagnosis, and someone lying to protect his loved ones from the truth. Guns are mentioned twice. Death is mentioned twice.
But the images in this video are much more varied, and brighter, than the ones in my head: the wild little fox, and the deer at the end of the road, and the stick, and the trees. They cheered me, and gave me a few goosebumps, when I watched this.
“And the riverbank talks / Of the waters of March / It’s the promise of life / In your heart, in your heart.”
Saturday, July 7, 2012
How to wash your stuffed animals
(This blog is going to be terribly icky. If you can’t stand to read about adults playing with stuffed animals, click away now.)
(Still with me? Read on.)
We have a houseful of stuffed animals. The best-loved are a little brown dog who came from CVS back in the 1990s, and a big fat polar bear we purchased with prize tickets at Dave & Buster. We act out little dramas with them, and generally have a good time. The dog’s name is “Blot,” by the way. If the polar bear has a name, I don’t know it.
When animals get played with, and roll around on the floor, they get dirtier and dirtier. The formerly-white polar bear was turning dingy, and a little whiffy.
Neither animal wanted to go for a ride in the washing machine, though I tried very hard to make it sound like fun. So I looked up instructions online (from a charming website called StuffedZoo.com), and it turned out to be pretty easy, as follows (all stuffed-toy owners pay attention, now):
- Make sure your pets are washable. If they are stuffed with polyester fiber, and don’t have all kinds of things glued on them, then you are in luck. Polar bear had google-eye appliqués, which I removed. Both dog and polar bear were wearing pretty necklaces, which I also removed.
- If they’re stained, dab laundry detergent on the stains.
- Put them in a lingerie bag or pillowcase, and tie it up. (The spin cycle can be traumatic if you’re a little brown dog.)
- Wash on the gentlest cycle.
- Dry carefully. (I took them out of the bag and let them go commando in the dryer. In forty-five minutes, they were nice and dry, and neither looked the worse for it.)
- If they’re not entirely dry, StuffedZoo.com recommends using a blowdrier. The kids can help with this; tell them that it’s a pet makeover session, and the pets are going to the salon.
The whole family is clean and lovely now. I reglued the Polar Bear’s eyes, and he can see again. He was a little shell-shocked by the washer/dryer thing, but when he saw how bright and clean he was, he forgave us. The little dog is also much cleaner, and looks much fluffier now.
And both of them are bragging about how brave they are, and how the other was crying like a baby the whole time.
But you know how kids are.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Movie review: "Magic Mike"
It will tell you something about the weather hereabouts when I say that it was so flippin’ hot last weekend that we did not run out to see “Magic Mike.”
We managed to see it on Tuesday evening, however.
You won’t be surprised to hear that we were nearly the only men in the (packed) theater. It was definitely a Chippendales crowd: lots of mamas (and a few grandmas), giggly and excited. I was worried that they might lose their composure during the movie and rush the screen, but I am delighted to report that the theater was utterly silent during the film: all those mamas and grandmas wanted to soak up all that 100% American biceps-and-baby-oil goodness.
Naturally there were those, um, dance routines. Channing Tatum, in case you didn’t know, was a stripper for a while, and can really dance. He’s amazing: athletic, erotic, and funny all at the same time. He goes from a gawky kid’s grin to a smoldering stare in nothing flat. Watching his routines made me feel funny, like when I sit on the washing machine during spin cycle. The other cast members (Joe Manganiello, Matt Bomer, Alex Pettyfer, Kevin Nash, Adam Rodriguez) do elaborate routines too, but they’re amateurs compared to Channing. (I wanted more Joe Manganiello. He’s adorable: huge and winsome. They give him lots of sidelong comedy bits: there’s a wonderful scene of him sitting at a sewing machine mending an outfit and wearing glasses. Did I mention he’s adorable?)
The movie begins with a young guy (Alex Pettyfer) with no prospects getting drawn into the male-stripper racket. Fun, games, lots of one-dollar bills.
Channing (AKA Magic Mike, the star dancer) takes Alex under his wing, partly at the behest of Alex’s serious sister (Cody Horn), who warns Channing that he’d better take care of her brother. And Channing tries, very hard, to take care of Alex.
But Alex does not want to be taken care of. He loves the whole scene: sex, drugs, excitement. And Channing begins to realize that he’s too old for this. (There’s a scene in a bank in which he’s practically begging for a SBA loan to fulfill his dream of setting up a custom-furniture business; he’s even wearing glasses, in order to look more serious and earnest. The loan officer nearly orgasms when she sees him, but he doesn’t get the loan.)
The whole movie covers the space of three months. And it ends with a kiss.
The women sitting behind us howled with anger when they realized that there would be no more gyrating men. They felt cheated.
One last word: Matthew McConaughey plays the manager/owner of the strip club as a manipulator, and a weasel, and a sociopath, and very charming. I generally loathe him, but he was perfect in this role; he even does a strip number that’s almost (but not quite) as erotic as any of Channing’s. Partner says he might be nominated for an Academy Award for this role, and I think it’s possible.
Go see it, girls, if you haven’t already, several times.
(But I still say we could have used a little more Joe Manganiello.)
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Anderson Cooper
I was pleasantly surprised to hear on TV the other morning that my darling boy Anderson Cooper has come out of the closet.
Not that this is a surprise, mind you. I think I (and many others) have pretty much always known that Anderson is on our team. I am always delighted when a celebrity comes out of the closet. As I’ve said before: the more the merrier. It makes it that much easier for a teenager in Two Dot, Montana to come to terms with his / her own sexuality.
And I do like the words Anderson chose, for their breezy casualness: “The fact is, I’m gay, always have been, always will be, and I couldn’t be any more happy, comfortable with myself, and proud . . . By remaining silent on certain aspects of my personal life for so long, I have given some the mistaken impression that I am trying to hide something — something that makes me uncomfortable, ashamed or even afraid. This is distressing because it is simply not true.”
Do yourself a favor and go read Anderson’s whole letter on Andrew Sullivan’s blog.
It addresses, nicely and neatly, the question: Is there ever a good reason to stay in the closet?
For Anderson, there were two: the desire to have a private life, and the desire – as a journalist – to maintain objectivity. (“I want to report the news, not be the news,” he said.) Not that there’s any question about his objectivity; I find his reporting very balanced. But then, I’m a fan. But his deeper point is worth pondering. If you’re a member of the radical right, what do you think of Rachel Maddow? Smart? Incisive? Nah. She’s that lesbian on MSNBC. See, for a lot of people, you can’t be gay and objective. You’re always advancing the gay agenda.
(As I'm advancing it now. As in: gay people are part of society. Always have been, always will be. And, increasingly, we are choosing not to live in celibate seclusion. So go deal with it.)
As a journalist, Anderson was confident of his own objectivity, but was (understandably) reluctant to give critics any reason to doubt his objectivity. Appearances aren’t everything, but they’re not nothing.
But sometimes the mere fact that you’ve come out – Here I am! You wanna make something of it? – is a worthwhile and powerful statement. It goes to prove that “gay,” like “Asian-American” or “Californian,” is just one of many attributes, and it doesn’t define or inform your entire life. He’s not Anderson Cooper the gay journalist; he’s Anderson Cooper the journalist. (Example: Neil Patrick Harris is super gay. But he plays a womanizer on a stupid CBS sitcom, and people love it. And I love him for doing it.)
(And here’s another thing: it’s not always safe to be openly gay. Read this excellent piece by Kathy Griffin on the subject. She points out, very neatly, that gay people are subjected to hatred and violence in much of the world – including the United States. She praises Anderson’s bravery, and rightly so.)
All things considered, I think Anderson made the right decision. And I like that he did it right after the end of Pride Month. Here’s the message I got from that: Pride doesn’t end on June 30. It’s a yearlong activity.
Long live Anderson Cooper.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
For the Fourth of July: Little Edie Beale does the Flag Dance
For the Fourth of July, from the Maysles documentary “Gray Gardens”: the Flag Dance, performed by Little Edie Beale.
Enjoy.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Diets
I was talking the other day to a coworker about her weight-loss plan, which is making her considerably thinner. Sadly, it’s one of those high-protein / low-carbohydrate diets which always backfire.
See, your body has several different metabolic settings. When it’s getting mostly protein (as with the Atkins Diet and its many imitators), it swings into a metabolic cycle that burns up your body fat very quickly. Then, unfortunately, if unchecked, it begins to digest your muscle mass, including your heart muscle. You must be very careful on these diets.
Fortunately, most people stay on these diets for limited periods of time, because they’re expensive, and because the range of foods is so limited and monotonous.
I have known about these diets since the 1980s, when a coworker (nice-looking, but with a pot belly) confided his weight-loss secret to me: now and then – once a year or so – he’d live on bologna and eggs for a couple of weeks, and his pot belly would disappear.
(Other dangers of this kind of diet: the waste products are highly toxic. You need to drink a lot of water, all the time, in order to detoxify yourself. Also, you need to consume a certain amount of carbohydrates, just to reassure your body that it doesn’t need to start consuming itself.)
Better, in some ways, the Maria Callas Diet (which is championed by my workfriend Apollonia, who has never tried it, but who thinks it’s a wonderful idea): swallow a tapeworm. It will keep you thin, no matter what you do.
Eep!
To quote Paul Bartel, who plays a “thinologist” in the 1990s movie “Scenes from the Class Struggle in Beverly Hills”: “It’s like I told the police: if you have a bunch of rich people in one place who are determined to lose weight, some of them are going to die.”
Or you could just eat less and exercise more.
You should choose the diet that’s right for you.
(Unless it poisons you, or devours you from within.)
Monday, July 2, 2012
Executives who bake!
The other day in the office, one of our Executive Directors leaned into my office and said, “There are brownies and pound cake down the hall, if you want some.”
“Well, that’s nice!” I said. “From University catering? Or did someone bake?”
“I baked,” he said shyly. “Last night.”
As I said to some other people in the office, after tasting his brownies and pound cake: we really need to hire more executives like this.
His brownies were very rich and chocolaty. (Apollonia, the other day, tasting a generic catering brownie, said that it “tasted brown,” and I understood that completely). Executive Director’s pound cake was the teensiest bit dry, but the chocolate chips mixed into the cake more than made up for it. (Pound cake really needs something with it: whipped cream, fruit – you know what I mean.)
But imagine: an executive director in the kitchen, in the evening, after work, baking!
This guy is very nearly unbelievable. He does things with his kids, he does heavy labor in his backyard, he bakes, he runs marathons –
I’m exhausted thinking about it. It’s going on eleven p.m. as I write this, and I am listening to the Beethoven sonatas and feeling tired. I am not baking, not playing football with my kids –
Ah.
I am thinking perhaps I should bake something complicated, just to validate my existence.
Galette aux pommes, anyone?
Sunday, July 1, 2012
For Sunday: “Snoopy,” from “You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown”
I love this musical, and this song. This is an animated version, and I don’t know the name of the singer; I wish I could have given you the original Broadway version, with Bill Hinnant as Snoopy, but this will do. And the animation is nice.
This is dedicated to all of us who, now and then, need to bite someone.
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