Carousel....Cops vs. Clowns

Carousel, directed by Adam Berg.

Amazing video. Go to You Tube and read about it.

Seven Nation Army

Oak Ridge Boys doing a cover of the White Strips "Seven Nation Army." Me like.

But a Book Doesn't Need Batteries...

Sony E-Book Reader...so cool.

I love gadgets. I would own every gadget that came down the pike but I also have a frugal gene that makes it almost impossible for me to spend hundreds of dollars on a cell phone or iPod or E-book readers but I want them all. I mean I really want them. My baby brother, the computer geek buys all the cool gadgets so I get to play with them and find out if they are worth it, but I have total electronic envy.

I was thinking though the other day about survival. Hey, I'm not a nut job...we had an earthquake and someone posted a web site that showed what a 7.8 Richter scale earthquake centered near the Salton Sea would look like. Sheesh. Talk about a downer. I vividly remember the Northridge earthquake thank you very much. We had been out visiting my mom in the Valley. Hot Tamale was 10 and Teddy Bear was about 4. Four thirty in the morning. I remember when it started thinking, "I hope this just rolls and shakes and then stops." Nope. It started with the rumble and the rolling and then literally, and I mean literally, it felt like a giant was outside the house shaking it. It was a violent back and forth motion. I could not have moved if I wanted to. Teddy Bear was in bed with me and Hot Tamale was sleeping in the pull out couch in the same room, thank god. There have to be guardian angels because just a few days before that my dad had tightened the screws holding up the solid glass closet doors because they were incredibly loose. If he had not done that, they would have shattered and fallen on us. As it was, it wasn't until daylight that I realized the TV had fallen on the pull out couch right at Hot Tamales feet. I am so thankful she slept curled up in a ball with her woobie clutched in her hands.

I still remember the feeling of not knowing how bad it was and wishing we could turn on the TV. It is still embarrassing to me that I was not sure how bad off we were until daylight came and we found a radio to hear the news. Like it wasn't real until I had seen it on TV. I am truly a product of the television generation. Today's generations probably won't feel it's real until they see it on the Internet~!

But, anyway back to survival. My earthquake kit is nonexistent since I moved. I was thinking how hard it is to survive without electricity, running water, etc. I have been trying to fashion a list of what I need and trying to imagine the worst case scenario. I would definitely include books in that survival list. (No, World War Z will not be on that list.) Can you imagine if the only books you had were ONLY on your e-book reader and you had no batteries or way to recharge it??? I'm getting palpitations just thinking about it.

Books are so cool but they are so old fashioned I guess. But you don't need to plug them in.

The Love Shack

So Garrison Keillor, huh?

The Book Babes read The Shack by William Paul Young this month...and we all read the book and we all either did not like it or did not get it. Unanimous. I tend to be the one that doesn't get it and will not like a book but not this time. Such a strange book.

To me it was very anti-religious and political as much he professed to despise politics and economics. It was so preachy...blah, blah, blah. And what was up talking about the trinity but no mention of Catholicism? Strange strange book. I know he was trying to wax philosophical talking about he, or she, or Papa, whatever, who put fractals everywhere in nature. I am pretty sure he was trying for the "To see the world in a grain of sand" type idea but he flubbed it.

And there must a writer's bag o' tricks that says a book like this has to have the protagonist get in car accident at the end of the book. My Sister's Keeper did that and it drove me bananas.

It was trying to confront some important questions. The nature of God, why does he seem to allow evil, how do you have a relationship with God. All really fascinating questions. Like I said, I did not get the book. Some people are ga ga over this book saying that it changed their life. I kept hearing the John Lennon song "Imagine" playing in the background as I read this book. No countries, no money, no politics, everyone sitting around just loving each other, but darn that Adam and Eve screwing it up for everyone and giving us independence and now we have free will and have to suffer. Or something like that anyway.

Perhaps I totally missed the point of the book and the underlying philosophy running through it. I will probably read it again just to see. And if I ticked you off, sorry. You can tell me off in the comments.

Hey, Bonnie, I Want My Hog Dog and Root Beer!

Thursday was the last taping day for The Bonnie Hunt Show, so, of course, we went trekking out to Culver City for the last time this season. We were trying to remember all the guests we had seen but seeing as how the early stages of geezerhood are setting in, it was difficult.

You have to wait outside on the sidewalk to check in with Marcus. He is a doll. He said he was going to the beach this summer and do nothing but get a tan which he totally deserves. So, we are standing in line with at least 120 other people. (Being that my tag was #119 and Townsie had #120. Aren't I smart?) For the first time I parked on the street right where we were standing in line which was kind of cool. Everyone is friendly in line because of course we are all there to see Bonnie. Suddenly, I hear yelling and there is a commotion. A lady wearing jeans, a white shirt, long black hair is yelling at the people in front of us because they are not moving out of the way fast enough to make room for the man with her who is in a wheelchair. He is pretty twisted up in his wheelchair, long gray shaggy hair, but he is maneuvering that chair well to get around us and the tree. As they pass us, she is SCREAMING and cussing but it doesn't sound Spanish to me, but whatever language it is, she is pissed. She is waving her arms around and acting all agitated. They get about 50 feet past us, right next to my car damnit, and she is still yelling. Everyone in line is now looking at her like she is nuts, which in retrospect was probably not the best thing to do to a crazy person. But what we realize is that the man in the wheelchair has jet propelled himself down the street and is a dot on the horizon. He was not even with her.

She crosses the street, walks down the street and I think she is gone, but no, she ends up going the other way on the sidewalk swearing at us the whole way. Now I think she is gone. What was I thinking. We hear a big diesel work truck come tearing down the street. Townsie said it sounded like it hit something as it turned the corner. It is the crazy lady driving. She is honking her horn, still yelling, driving down the middle of the street like a bat out of hell. We were all hoping she did not turn around and plow us under. The cute little security guard tried to get the plate number but only managed to get the last 4 numbers. Hard to tell because I could barely understand his English either. Poor Karen missed all that excitement as she was stuck on the 405 freeway.

We finally get in, get our purses and bags searched, go through the metal detector and go to the benches they have right outside the studio to wait. It really is so sad to me that I have no pictures to show you. They had a cute hot dog cart set up outside with all the fixings which was something new. I was SOOOO hungry, again. Normally, they pass out the hot dogs and root beer as you walk in to get seated. Being the baby that I am I always whine that I don't want mustard or ketchup, especially the ketchup. This time, we wait and wait as always, walk in but no hot dogs. The show is about to start and still no hot dogs. We got separated so I am sitting with Townsie and we are both starving. Hebrew National is the new provider or sponsor or something and they were going to film them passing out the hot dogs first. But they didn't tell us that, so when they finally pass them out and I start eating mine, the warm up guy says wait, don't eat. What?? At this point, I don't care, I start picking pieces of my dog and eat anyways. I know damn well they are not going to film me.

The show finally starts and we saw Dick Van Dyke who stayed for the segment where Bonnie talks to her mother, Alice, which was hysterical. Alice tried to pick up Dick. It was so cute. Then we saw Common, a rapper, who is in the movie Terminator Salvation with Christian Bale and then Dick Van Dyke sang with his group and we got a CD.

All in all, it has been a fabulous season going to see Bonnie. Maybe we can get her to come out to Temecula. It would be fun to show her the wineries and Old Town and try to find a good dog. Probably end up at Costco. They have the best hot dogs. Gotta show those Hollywood folk what good food is all about.

Turning Lead into Gold

I get asked all the time what Twitter is and why do I use it. It is hard to explain to someone especially if they don't even blog. Explaining blogging to people who don't blog or read blogs is hard, too. I loved the earthquake example Biz Stone, the co-founder of Twitter, gives in this clip.

On Thursday, we went to the last taping day for The Bonnie Hunt Show. BFF had her friend, ummm, trying to think up a name for her because she was absolutely hysterical. She was telling us stories about her sister meeting her new husband online, about her slightly nutty mother who dresses all prim and proper but apparently has no inner censor. She is a natural storyteller and I laughed the whole way into Culver City. I was telling her that she needs to start a blog and get these stories out there. It is hard to convince people they can stay anonymous if they want, that you don't need to use real names. Kinda like a Dragnet thing, "Names have been changed to protect the innocent" or whatever it is he used to say.

She asked me about my Facebook account because she said I was the winner for posting to Facebook. I truly have a love hate relationship with Facebook. I guess because I have no desire to find friends from my high school years, it is kind of silly to me. I love the serendipity of finding people on Twitter and in the blog world. I told her that I rarely post directly to Facebook but have my Twitters go into Facebook, which leads to some fairly strange entries. She could not figure out why someone would do that. I know if she were to start a blog, she would totally get it, but she just got rid of dial-up, so she has not played in the internet world too much.

Off to find a clip of Dick Van Dyke because he was on Bonnie's show and he sang with his quartet the Vantastics and we all got his CD~! He was such an incredible guest. It was hard to believe he is 83 years old. The man never stays still, constantly dancing or moving. And I loved that he was wearing tennis shoes.

Robots are Fun

Oh man. I want one. I want one now. Does it come in pink? It has a camera in it and everything and can go anywhere. Imagine the possibilities moms. It boggles the mind.

Teddy Bear would on a regular basis yell from upstairs while getting ready for school. "Mom, where are my books." "Mom, where are my shoes." "Mom, where did I leave my frickin' mind?" I would yell back my answer. She would come down, eat breakfast, watch TV, play on the computer...and then tell me she did not find her shoes and, yes, before I yell she had looked. Honest. I would usually turn eight shades of red and ask her, "If I go upstairs, open your closet door, look on the floor and find your shoes, you are in so much trouble." She would time warp her way upstairs before I could get there and magically find her shoes. It never seemed to fail.

But think if I had a handy dandy robot to send on scouting trips to find crap? And a camera on board to beam to my laptop exactly where it was and what it found. Roseanne Barr used to say that her family thought of her uterus as a tracking device and once I got married and had kids I understood that joke. My little robot could be my mobile finderer, or whatever.

I wonder if it could locate my glasses which I lose all the time, usually because they are still my face or my car keys that the teenager takes? Perhaps I could hire it out as a sneaky little robot chaperone spying on the kids when they go out. Maybe it comes with a megaphone and everything.

Like I said it boggles the mind. I love science. I need to marry a geek the next time around.

Temper Tantrum

Bloggers are such weird people. I did not have a chance to read some of the Mother's Day posts that they did, so I am playing catch up. It's the story of my life. I should be done just in time to be behind for Father's Day. Some of them are so freakin' funny it makes me ashamed to put pixel to display, but WTF, blogging is such fun. I was at Phat Mama's blog and she had a post about Mother's Day that just made my day. It reminded why I am SOOOO glad that I am done with the little kid stage of life.

I think all new mommys should be required to start a blog to help them combat the insanity that comes with raising tyrannical little dictators that children become when they hit about 18 months. I know, like a mommy has time to blog. I remember when the Hot Tamale was a baby, still young enough to be immobile. I figured how hard could it be to clean the 3 x 3 foot square feet of linoleum that was between the garage door and into the kitchen. So small. Piece of cake. Forty five friggin' minutes later that floor was still dirty, the water in the bucket was now cold, and I considered myself a failure. Pick up the sponge...oops, baby spits up. Dip sponge back in bucket...oops, baby does a giant doody. Apply sponge to floor....oops, baby giggles and now I have to play with her.

It is all so funny now but at the time I thought of myself as a total doofus. At least with a blog, I would have been a doofus with a blog and place to post the funny pictures of my daughter cleaning her new shoes in the toilet trying to be helpful..or a picture of the time she took about 25 coffee filters, put a graham cracker in each one, and then gave a nice squirt of maple syrup to each one. Where was mommy? Talking on the phone, of course, happy that Hot Tamale was being so good. I felt terrible with that one because when she saw my face she tried to scurry away, slipped on the sticky syrupy floor and gave herself a black eye. Needless to say, I did not leave the house for days. Some Texan might have popped me one.

But the hardest I think I have laughed at my kids, yes, you heard me, laughed AT my kids was with Teddy Bear. We had moved to Moreno Valley by that time into our brand new house. She had her own plastic table in the family room to watch cartoons and play. She had to have been about 18 months or so. Not quite verbal but certainly vocal...and loud. I must not have been moving my arse fast enough for her to bring her Cheerios and applesauce, so she started to pitch a hissy fit. My patience level at that time was probably a nanosecond in length, so I got a little cranky and told her to calm down or there would be no Cheerios and certainly no cartoons. Oh, lordy. Teddy Bear at that age was a perpetual looking wild child--great big gray eyes, wild ass red hair, and always dirty little cheeks. She screws up her face, squinches her eyes shut and opens her mouth to scream.

To this day, I don't know why, but I had absolutely no reaction to this. It was actually kind of entertaining because it was so obviously not real tears. It was like watching very bad cheesy acting. That ticked her off. She really starts to wail, starts flailing her arms and stomping her feet. I start to giggle out loud now. She looks at me in absolute horror. How is this not working? She then proceeds to throw herself onto the floor, banging her fists on the floor, her arms pumping up and down, kicks her feet and is screaming at the top of her lungs. Now, I am beside myself I am laughing so hard. She looks up in astonishment, sits up, gets to her feet, glares at me (no longer crying, of course), and stomps off to her room, which, of course, sends me into hysterics. I hear her little feet in her footy pajamas stomping down the hallway and she SLAMS the door~! Oh my, god. How I made it to the bathroom before I peed myself I will never know.

But she never threw another tantrum again.

Birthday Bash for JuJuBeez

Hoops and Yoyo singing a birthday song~!

I had never heard of Hoops and Yoyo from Hallmark until Casey showed me these characters last week. We had been to Claim Jumpers for Happy Hour and had to walk it off, so we went to Target and Hallmark. We tortured the poor employees by listening to at least 20 of these cards and laughing our asses off. Maybe Jack Daniels made us a little louder than normal. The guy working there did not seem to mind though. Hoops and Yoyo are hysterical and I wanted to buy all the cards.

On Mother's Day, JuJuBeez asked my mom if she would make her famous chicken tacos for her birthday. My mother does nothing half way and it ended up being a great party. My mom has a neighbor to help her. I have known her for most of my 50 years. I will call her Me Too and I love her to pieces. She is 81 years old and funny. She loves to dance and she will talk to anyone and people for some reason talk back to her. When we go to Vegas, she will talk to the people in the elevator. She is my role model for breaking out of my comfort zone and talking to people. She is a natural flirt, kind of like a baby is. They look you right in the eye, all interested like, smiling and fascinated. She is short, barely 5 foot tall, big brown eyes, salt and pepper hair and smiles all the time.

Me Too recently flew to Oregon to help her 88-year-old brother settle some family affairs. She said he lived in a swank assisted living facility and thought it was a pretty cool place, but said it was like living in an army of walkers. HAHAHA. My mom had sent me and Me Too to the Chinese bakery to pick up the cake. The east side of the valley is like being transported to an alien place. I really like my little bubble here in suburban Temecula. I drove down Roscoe Blvd. to get to the bakery on the corner of Sepulveda and Roscoe. Some homeless guy, scruffy, slightly wobbly on his feet, tried to direct me to a parking spot. Say what? I pulled away from him and found another spot. The bakery had mostly empty display cases and the food on display was kind of sad and seemed out of place. Pretty pastries in a slightly run down bakery, next door to the liquor store with the Spanish language everywhere, and numerous other off beat stores with the homeless guy in the parking lot trying to direct traffic for tips.

We skedaddled back to my mom's and helped her get ready for the party. My parents have a huge backyard that my dad has fixed up through the years, and even though the 170 Hollywood Freeway is a couple of hundred yards away, it is a nice place, especially since they finally put the sound wall up. I will post pictures as soon as I upload them.

Shasta and Lop spent the day with JuJuBeez and BB touring Hollywood and then they came to my mom's. JuJuBeez's brother and SIL and their 2 kids came-kids, heck, they are 26 and 23. Teddy Bear and Killdozer made me bring Rock Band. I suck at that game. They let me play bass on easy and I still failed twice. Living on a Prayer was the only song I managed to play fairly well.

Lop and BB helped my mom make the chicken tacos because they wanted her recipe. Okay, getting a recipe from my mom is an ordeal. She will tell you what's in it, you think, until you make it and it never tastes the same and then when you call her and tell her, she says, "Oh, if you want to add flavor, you need to add so and so." D'oh! No, mom, I didn't want it to be flavorful. If you follow her every move around the kitchen, as soon as you turn your back, she will add something and not tell you. It's like a game and we tease her endlessly about it. They were great helpers with Me Too. One warmed the tortillas, one filled the shells, one helped load the tacos into the dish to keep warm.

It really is nice to be a hermit but still be able to get out there and laugh and be with people you love. JuJuBeez is a great person. She does a killer impersonation of the Queen of England, is very sentinmental, yet slightly cynical and always, I mean always, has something fascinating to say. It must be being a writer. I am so happy to have her in my life. And, it is totally unfair that she really does look 29 even though she is not anymore.

Happy Birthday, JuJuBeez~!

Music

Such a beautiful piece of music. I just wanted to share.

Pardon Me!

Are you a prude? Come on now...'fess up. I don't consider myself a prude. I can always get the Book Babes to blush, change subjects, call TMI. I admit it, it's kind of fun. They are so lady like sometimes, but every once in a while they are good for a zinger. Those lady like types can surprise you.

Teddy Bear and Killdozer were watching some wretched MTV show the other day. I sat down to join them for a minute. (Work is killing me lately.) The show was so insipid I could feel brain cells dying or turning into mush according to Hulu and Alec Baldwin. The American version of this commercial came on and I guess I must have made a face. Teddy Bear got on her teenage soapbox and asked me what was so wrong about the commercial.

I have to laugh. Kids are always saying that we adults never understand, we never listen to the whole story and all the extenuating information. Okay, if there is one thing I have learned from living with young adults is to bite my tongue and listen as much as possible. Some of the most clean cut kids I have met are not just naughty kids (heck, who wasn't naughty?) but are actually not nice people. I am so naive, I always assumed if a kid does well in school, is polite, respects authority, makes my kid call about where they are (ha!), they were honest and good people. Don't misunderstand me, some of them truly are wonderful but that's my point. I had to learn to stop prejudging them as much as I could. Some of the most interesting kids also look the most interesting. None of them are angels but most of them are not devils either and I have had some of the best conversations with those young adults as exasperating as they can be.

I explained that it was not the commercial per se that got me to make my face. But how do you explain to someone how different things were for you when you were their age without sounding like some damn old geezer? Jiminy, couples slept in separate beds in sitcoms when I grew up, moms wore dresses and pearls, sex was not a subject that came up too often. So, yes, it still gets me sometimes when I see condom commercials or K-Y jelly used to enhance sex or razors used to shave your hoo hoo into cute shapes. I keep trying to picture Mary Ann and Ginger on Gilligan's Island discussing this. Coconut or pineapple shape? A cute little heart?

Ah, me. So exactly what time does Tila Tequila come on?

Cinco de Drinco

Care to dive in with me? This margarita was HUGE. I could have put my puppy in this drink so he could practice his dog paddling. And I actually had another one that was only slightly smaller. I met my baby brother and his wife and their friends at Casa de Pico in San Diego. This restaurant used to be in Old Town but it got chased away apparently by a new management company in Old Town San Diego.

They had the mariachis running around playing the Mexican polka music. Thank heavens we sat outside because they were loud. At a table not far from us, they were doing shots and were even louder than we were. I'm afraid we embarrass my brother to no end when we all get together. Must be that Catholic school upbringing. He covers his eyes and pretends that he is no longer at the same table as we are.

My sister-in-law got VERY happy and so did Shasta, so we had to do the drunk walk to Starbucks to sober up. Three cop cars pulled into the parking lot (looking for the drunks to bust I'm sure) and just walking I felt guilty. To make it even worse, they went into Starbucks, too. We got our drinks and hightailed it outside to talk and drink and sober up. We were fascinated by some creature running around the parking lot. Possum? Rat? Cat? I was kinda of hoping it would scare the cops when they left.

When will I ever learn not to drink on weekdays? Arghh. Getting up on Wednesday was painful in the extreme. I went to bed at 8 the next night to try to play catch up on sleep. Is it even possible to do that?

Cheers~!

Tiger Becomes a Dog

I loved this movie and my girls and I watched it over and over. How can you go wrong with Jimmy Stewart and Dom Deluise?

Bow wow. Bark. Bowie bowie bark bark.

I will miss you~!

Stand By Me~!

Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy~! Happy Saturday...off to play today~!

SighWTF

CollegeHumor.com...Real Life Twitter

Sorry for the lack of posts. It's not for lack of ideas, I have had one idea after another pop in but I have been behaving like I have OCD playing with Twitter. CollegeHumor made me wake up to just how silly it can be. I mean, look, at my Twitter name...sighWTF. Sigh. HAHAHA.

Twitter is definitely bad news for people with short attention spans. You only have 140 characters to say something. It is really hard to be boring when you need to be spiffy and concise. It is possible. I have deleted some people who tweet and tweet and tweet and tweet and never seem to say anything. But it is absolutely fascinating the people who are on Twitter and some of them follow you back. I follow the extreme right, the middle, the left and those in the outfield. I just started following Karl Rove. Yes, the diabolical mastermind behind Bush, and he follows me back~! (I'm going to have to see if Rahm Emanuel twitters; I need to follow all diabolical masterminds.) But I also follow George Stephenopolous or however you spell his darn name. I follow anarchists and Republicans. I follow a few musicians and some of my favorite bloggers.

Teddy Bear thinks I'm crazy. I told her that I had embarrassed myself to no end by Twittering something to Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails when he said something funny. She got so exasperated. "What is twittering?" She had no idea what Twitter was. The My Space queen. She lets me have a Facebook account, but I'm not allowed on My Space. She said it is not for grown ups. Whatever. I always assume this generation is computer savvy, but they can be as clueless as my mom. My mom still is not sure what clicking is and scrolling is an advanced concept. My daughter has never run a scan on her computer...EVER. I have to get in there on a regular basis and clean her laptop up. My brother, my computer guru, sometimes will take her computer home and he pats the laptop and tells it it will be okay. He is appalled by what she does to it sometimes.

EvilBankersDouble-talking douchebag Barney Frank stands in the way of a Fed™ Audit: http://tinyurl.com/crcrre #distraction #vague #obfuscateabout 3 hours ago from TweetDeck

LonsI have had this Slap Chop remix stuck in my head ALL DAY: http://tinyurl.com/cy96a5 Help me...about 3 hours ago from twhirl

weirdnewsRepairman accused of peeping at woman in shower http://is.gd/vYqwabout 3 hours ago from web

cakewrecksCake USB Drives! http://tinyurl.com/6la5v7 Imagine if this customer ( http://tinyurl.com/bgehp5) had used one - oh, the irony.about 4 hours ago from web

These are sample tweets from just the people I follow. You notice they have links to articles, videos, blogs....oh my.

I will get my butt back in gear and blog this weekend. I have to write about gobstoppers, monster cakes, feathers, laundry....Sigh.