March 31st, 2010
On day 158 of my 365 day blog challenge, I wrote an entry called “Jew, Not-a-Jew or Canadian?” I gave you scenarios and asked you which of these three categories the examples fell under. http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2010/01/day-158-jew-not-jew-or-canadian.html. On Day 166, I brought to you another list to test your knowledge of 3 interchangeable people: Bill O’Reilly, Kanye West and Mother Teresa. http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2010/01/day-166-bill-oreilly-kanye-west-or.html.
It’s Spring, a festive time of year that recognizes three holidays that have traditions that are so identical that I feel it’s best to test your ability to distinguish between them.
Are you celebrating Passover, Easter or The Festival of Steve Guttenberg?
- For eight days, you eat cracker-like unleavened bread. During this time, your solid waste will be on sabbatical. With Dave Chappelle. In Africa. Charmin Toilet Paper's numbers decline.
- During this holiday, it is seldom discussed that “someone's” decision to not be in" Short Circuit 2" was the catalyst for the fall of the Roman Empire. And LOST's inane final season.
- Every time you hear the word “resurrection”...you have the urge to eat Little Bunny Foo Foo.
- At this holiday’s ceremonious meal, two seats are saved. One for Elijah. The other for Gallagher.
- You start swimming in a pool that has strange cocoons. As a result, you start to feel young again. Disclaimer: Only effective if you conjure the spirits of Don Ameche, Hume Cronyn and Wilford Brimley.
- You enter a Peep marshmallow eating contest held in Sacramento, California. This is real.
- You kidnap a baby and raise it with Ted Danson and Tom Selleck. Crazy shenanigans ensue.
- Girls play out their dreams and explore the world and its possibilities. – Oops. Sorry. That's Take Your Daughter to Work Day.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Day 234 - Ask Jax - Part 6
March 30th, 2010
This is the 6th installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering any of your pressing inquiries. Any topic. I can't guarantee instant publication, but I will hold onto all questions and attempt to answer them at some point during my 365 day blog entry challenge. Remember there are no stupid questions. Just stupid people who ask questions.
Is it true what they say about Jewish women? – Benji Feldheim, Chicago, Illinois
Jax’s Answer - Is it true that we’re awesome? Yes. Yes it is. Benji, I love that this question comes from you considering your father was my rabbi when I was a kid. But you did the right thing coming to me instead of a man trained in Jewish law, ritual, and tradition. The other night I met a guy who said, “You know...Jewish women give the best blow jobs.” I was offended by his curtness and walked away as he tried to high five me. But for the record…he was right. The mouth of the Jewess female develops admirable limberness and flexibility from berating, asking for money and emasculating. This high impact jowly workout lends itself beautifully to being successful at manipulating kosher meat.
Why do people eat Slim Jims? - Jessica Steward Boston, Massachusetts
Jax’s Answer – Who wouldn’t want to eat dog treats for humans?
Is it wrong to flush the toilet when there is only urine in it and you KNOW the person behind you is a guy and is going to take a piss? - Paul Hale, Brooklyn New York
I assume it would be environmentally friendly to hold back on your impulse to flush. But what concerns me, Paul, is the dialogue in line that makes you so certain that the guy behind you is going to take a piss. Now you have created this scenario in my head:
The following takes place in line for the toilette:
Guy 1 - So Guy 2. Are you thinking you’re going to eliminate solid, semisolid or liquid waste?
Guy 2 – It’s hard to say Guy 1. Sometimes I just like throwing caution to the wind and try to listen to what my digestive track is trying to tell me. We all have a colon whisperer inside of us who is just waiting to be asked.
Guy 3 – Well guys, you need to know that I am CERTAIN that I will be taking a piss. There’s something about my urine’s journey from the urinary bladder through the urethra to the outside of my body that serves as a symbolic reminder that I too should be one with the fluidity in my life. I will also be doing blow.
This is the 6th installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering any of your pressing inquiries. Any topic. I can't guarantee instant publication, but I will hold onto all questions and attempt to answer them at some point during my 365 day blog entry challenge. Remember there are no stupid questions. Just stupid people who ask questions.
Is it true what they say about Jewish women? – Benji Feldheim, Chicago, Illinois
Jax’s Answer - Is it true that we’re awesome? Yes. Yes it is. Benji, I love that this question comes from you considering your father was my rabbi when I was a kid. But you did the right thing coming to me instead of a man trained in Jewish law, ritual, and tradition. The other night I met a guy who said, “You know...Jewish women give the best blow jobs.” I was offended by his curtness and walked away as he tried to high five me. But for the record…he was right. The mouth of the Jewess female develops admirable limberness and flexibility from berating, asking for money and emasculating. This high impact jowly workout lends itself beautifully to being successful at manipulating kosher meat.
Why do people eat Slim Jims? - Jessica Steward Boston, Massachusetts
Jax’s Answer – Who wouldn’t want to eat dog treats for humans?
Is it wrong to flush the toilet when there is only urine in it and you KNOW the person behind you is a guy and is going to take a piss? - Paul Hale, Brooklyn New York
I assume it would be environmentally friendly to hold back on your impulse to flush. But what concerns me, Paul, is the dialogue in line that makes you so certain that the guy behind you is going to take a piss. Now you have created this scenario in my head:
The following takes place in line for the toilette:
Guy 1 - So Guy 2. Are you thinking you’re going to eliminate solid, semisolid or liquid waste?
Guy 2 – It’s hard to say Guy 1. Sometimes I just like throwing caution to the wind and try to listen to what my digestive track is trying to tell me. We all have a colon whisperer inside of us who is just waiting to be asked.
Guy 3 – Well guys, you need to know that I am CERTAIN that I will be taking a piss. There’s something about my urine’s journey from the urinary bladder through the urethra to the outside of my body that serves as a symbolic reminder that I too should be one with the fluidity in my life. I will also be doing blow.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Day 233 - Passover & Jaxover
March 29th, 2010
Tonight is the first night of Passover, the Jewish holiday that commemorates the emancipation of the Israelites from slavery in ancient Egypt. It is also the beginning of a week where a lot of Jewish people will be constipated. Matzah is the anti-ruffage.
I will be revisiting the story of Passover with my family. However, I have a few additions that might be frowned upon if I voice them at the dining room table. My safest alternative is to get it out. Now.
The story of The Passover (What? That’s like saying The Batman? Good point):
The Story: After many decades of slavery to the Egyptian Pharaohs, the Israelites were subjected to arduous labor and unbearable horrors. God saw their suffering and sent Moses to Pharaoh with a message: "Send forth My people, so that they may serve Me." Pharaoh refused to acknowledge the Lord’s commandment so God sent ten devastating plagues: Water turned to blood, frogs, lice, flies, livestock disease, boils, hail, locusts, darkness and death of the first-born of all Egyptian families.
Jax’s Thoughts: First off, God chatted with Moses through a burning bush because he couldn't reach him by text message. OK. Pharaoh. The first nine plagues didn’t give you a heads up that the shit was gonna go down? Did you not read “Pharaoh-ing for Dummies”? When God sends Moses(or Charlton Heston to you) it’s time to spend more time listening to the demands of an omnipotent being than spending time deciding which decorative sandals, large amounts of chunky jewelry and transparent linen kilts to wear for a day of brutality. If I were the sole deity, I would have just given Pharaoh a Time out. For Adults. http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2010/01/day-159-time-outs-for-adult.html
The Story: After the 10th plague, Pharaoh relented and let the Jewish people leave. We eat matzah during Passover because they did not have time for their bread to rise. As the Jews were fleeing, Pharaoh changed his mind and sent his army after the people. Moses used his staff to part the Red Sea for the Jews to cross. Afterward, the waters closed and drowned the Egyptian soldiers. The Jews had so much faith in God that they wandered through the desert for forty years trusting that he would take them to the land where milk and honey flowed.
Jax’s Thoughts: The ability to part a body of water just proves that one should never underestimate the power of a big staff. A faulty GPS is why the trip took so long. If Moses had used Google Map, the Jews would have gotten to the holy land in 27 years. 29 tops. Also, leading so many people means one thing that could delay your estimated arrival time: Lots of stopping at rest stops. Heads up: Asking Moses, “Are we there yet?” does not go over well.
The Story – In order to retell the story of the liberation of the Israelites from slavery in ancient Egypt, the Seder consists of words and symbolic actions that are a primary vehicle for the transmission of the Jewish faith from one generation to the next. One of the most important rituals to be followed at Seder involves the youngest child at the table asking the four questions. The concept originated to arouse curiosity in the children and make them feel involved.
Jax’s Thoughts: There’s really not much to say here except that I do appreciate this holiday and seldom turn down being with people I love while eating and drinking. Heavily. My only request is that we add a fifth question. Why does Christina Aguilera have the voice of a very large black woman. And I do not?
Tonight is the first night of Passover, the Jewish holiday that commemorates the emancipation of the Israelites from slavery in ancient Egypt. It is also the beginning of a week where a lot of Jewish people will be constipated. Matzah is the anti-ruffage.
I will be revisiting the story of Passover with my family. However, I have a few additions that might be frowned upon if I voice them at the dining room table. My safest alternative is to get it out. Now.
The story of The Passover (What? That’s like saying The Batman? Good point):
The Story: After many decades of slavery to the Egyptian Pharaohs, the Israelites were subjected to arduous labor and unbearable horrors. God saw their suffering and sent Moses to Pharaoh with a message: "Send forth My people, so that they may serve Me." Pharaoh refused to acknowledge the Lord’s commandment so God sent ten devastating plagues: Water turned to blood, frogs, lice, flies, livestock disease, boils, hail, locusts, darkness and death of the first-born of all Egyptian families.
Jax’s Thoughts: First off, God chatted with Moses through a burning bush because he couldn't reach him by text message. OK. Pharaoh. The first nine plagues didn’t give you a heads up that the shit was gonna go down? Did you not read “Pharaoh-ing for Dummies”? When God sends Moses(or Charlton Heston to you) it’s time to spend more time listening to the demands of an omnipotent being than spending time deciding which decorative sandals, large amounts of chunky jewelry and transparent linen kilts to wear for a day of brutality. If I were the sole deity, I would have just given Pharaoh a Time out. For Adults. http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2010/01/day-159-time-outs-for-adult.html
The Story: After the 10th plague, Pharaoh relented and let the Jewish people leave. We eat matzah during Passover because they did not have time for their bread to rise. As the Jews were fleeing, Pharaoh changed his mind and sent his army after the people. Moses used his staff to part the Red Sea for the Jews to cross. Afterward, the waters closed and drowned the Egyptian soldiers. The Jews had so much faith in God that they wandered through the desert for forty years trusting that he would take them to the land where milk and honey flowed.
Jax’s Thoughts: The ability to part a body of water just proves that one should never underestimate the power of a big staff. A faulty GPS is why the trip took so long. If Moses had used Google Map, the Jews would have gotten to the holy land in 27 years. 29 tops. Also, leading so many people means one thing that could delay your estimated arrival time: Lots of stopping at rest stops. Heads up: Asking Moses, “Are we there yet?” does not go over well.
The Story – In order to retell the story of the liberation of the Israelites from slavery in ancient Egypt, the Seder consists of words and symbolic actions that are a primary vehicle for the transmission of the Jewish faith from one generation to the next. One of the most important rituals to be followed at Seder involves the youngest child at the table asking the four questions. The concept originated to arouse curiosity in the children and make them feel involved.
Jax’s Thoughts: There’s really not much to say here except that I do appreciate this holiday and seldom turn down being with people I love while eating and drinking. Heavily. My only request is that we add a fifth question. Why does Christina Aguilera have the voice of a very large black woman. And I do not?
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Day 232 - Dairy Queen
March 28th, 2010
It was as if the evil dairy Gods took control of my willpower and I had no inkling of self control to halt my craving. I ate a bag. Of cheese. Whole milk . I am ashamed.
I was at the deli picking up tampons (super plus) and my right hand (unbeknownst to my brain) grabbed a bag of shredded mozzarella. I had no control. I don’t even eat dairy. My left hand knows that.
Once I had completed the process of using my hands to fill my mouth with shreds of pressed, seasoned and aged curds of milk, the universe worked in my favor and immediately presented a 3 step healing system. Within hours.
STEP 1 – TALK IT OUT
My instincts told me to immediately turn to my support system (via Facebook status update.) I kept it simple and (to my credit) fearlessly admitted, “I just ate a bag of cheese.” My friends responded to my troubling breakdown:
Might as well have smoked some crack. - Adam Holtz
Well…if I get fat...at least I have a good personality. Most of the time. - Me
The crack wouldn't let that happen. - Adam Holtz
Hm. *singsong* somebody's not pooping til Tuesday! - G.M. Guity
I am SO jealous. - Edward A. Sotelo
You won't be tomorrow - Me
We just got back from the deli, where I got a chunk of cheddar for dinner. Coincidence? I don't think so. – David Hammond
I didn't know that cheese comes in a bag - Jennie Sandberg
Cheese comes in a bag…dick comes in a box…just the kinda world we live in now. - Me
Confusing or combining the two is not recommended. - Troy Bynum
mmmmm cheese bag (I cannot cosign the dick box) - Ed Blank
STEP 2 – RECEIVE A RANDOM NONSENSICAL COMPLEMENT
Soon after my online venting session, I had a brief visit from a friend. She’s a hip hop singer. Along with projecting a post calcium overload lull, I answered the door with disheveled Bon Jovi circa ’85 hair, a toothbrush in my mouth and wearing a torn tank top. No bra. I was truly a vision. This little firecracker wanted to know if I wanted to be a dancer in her video. With my perplexed toothpaste filled mouth, I muffled, “Have you met me?” Readers. I have many artistic strengths. Being a badass dancer in a spicy music video is not one of them. However, being asked (especially given my current challenged mental and physical state) was self esteem crack. My friend assumed that I had talent since I had a “dancer’s body.” I had never heard that before. But I liked it. And would be open to hearing it again. Often.
STEP 3 – GET A HAIRCUT AT A BURLESQUE SHOW
I had committed to joining some friends for a burlesque show at Galapagos Art Space. I am certain that if I had not already completed steps one and two, that I would have lost momentum to go to a show where I’d be forced to observe sexy people that probably did not devour a low rent Kraft product prior to their performances. For no apparent reason, there was an Asian woman with pig tailed braids and a Slash-like top hat giving free haircuts in the audience. Of course there was. So you know who decided to get her ends trimmed? This one.
My confidence was back. I had vented. I had been mistaken for a capable MTV dancer. My hair was back to standard. My esteem of self made a welcomed comeback. Hard. I put glittery tassels (which I always have on me) on my nipples, went onstage and did a grippingly provocative dance to Eartha Kitt's "I Want to Be Evil."
That’s a stretch of the truth. OK. A flat out lie.
I came home and ate a bag of almonds.
It was as if the evil dairy Gods took control of my willpower and I had no inkling of self control to halt my craving. I ate a bag. Of cheese. Whole milk . I am ashamed.
I was at the deli picking up tampons (super plus) and my right hand (unbeknownst to my brain) grabbed a bag of shredded mozzarella. I had no control. I don’t even eat dairy. My left hand knows that.
Once I had completed the process of using my hands to fill my mouth with shreds of pressed, seasoned and aged curds of milk, the universe worked in my favor and immediately presented a 3 step healing system. Within hours.
STEP 1 – TALK IT OUT
My instincts told me to immediately turn to my support system (via Facebook status update.) I kept it simple and (to my credit) fearlessly admitted, “I just ate a bag of cheese.” My friends responded to my troubling breakdown:
Might as well have smoked some crack. - Adam Holtz
Well…if I get fat...at least I have a good personality. Most of the time. - Me
The crack wouldn't let that happen. - Adam Holtz
Hm. *singsong* somebody's not pooping til Tuesday! - G.M. Guity
I am SO jealous. - Edward A. Sotelo
You won't be tomorrow - Me
We just got back from the deli, where I got a chunk of cheddar for dinner. Coincidence? I don't think so. – David Hammond
I didn't know that cheese comes in a bag - Jennie Sandberg
Cheese comes in a bag…dick comes in a box…just the kinda world we live in now. - Me
Confusing or combining the two is not recommended. - Troy Bynum
mmmmm cheese bag (I cannot cosign the dick box) - Ed Blank
STEP 2 – RECEIVE A RANDOM NONSENSICAL COMPLEMENT
Soon after my online venting session, I had a brief visit from a friend. She’s a hip hop singer. Along with projecting a post calcium overload lull, I answered the door with disheveled Bon Jovi circa ’85 hair, a toothbrush in my mouth and wearing a torn tank top. No bra. I was truly a vision. This little firecracker wanted to know if I wanted to be a dancer in her video. With my perplexed toothpaste filled mouth, I muffled, “Have you met me?” Readers. I have many artistic strengths. Being a badass dancer in a spicy music video is not one of them. However, being asked (especially given my current challenged mental and physical state) was self esteem crack. My friend assumed that I had talent since I had a “dancer’s body.” I had never heard that before. But I liked it. And would be open to hearing it again. Often.
STEP 3 – GET A HAIRCUT AT A BURLESQUE SHOW
I had committed to joining some friends for a burlesque show at Galapagos Art Space. I am certain that if I had not already completed steps one and two, that I would have lost momentum to go to a show where I’d be forced to observe sexy people that probably did not devour a low rent Kraft product prior to their performances. For no apparent reason, there was an Asian woman with pig tailed braids and a Slash-like top hat giving free haircuts in the audience. Of course there was. So you know who decided to get her ends trimmed? This one.
My confidence was back. I had vented. I had been mistaken for a capable MTV dancer. My hair was back to standard. My esteem of self made a welcomed comeback. Hard. I put glittery tassels (which I always have on me) on my nipples, went onstage and did a grippingly provocative dance to Eartha Kitt's "I Want to Be Evil."
That’s a stretch of the truth. OK. A flat out lie.
I came home and ate a bag of almonds.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Day 231 - DILF. The New MILF
March 27th, 2010
Saturdays in Brooklyn appear to be the day when daddies take over and the streets are filled with fathers being paternal-rrific with their offspring while mom takes a “me day.” I’m sitting in my office (which just coincidentally seems to be the same locale where I can buy overpriced coffee) and see some dad/kid interactions. And analyzing.
Dad 1 – Gave in to his 3ish year old daughter who was performing a topnotch Oscar worthy temper tantrum in order to receive a Danish. Cheese filled. Dad gave in and I assume mom would not have because New York moms know that if you want your kids to get into good schools…they can’t be fat. Ew.
Dad 2 - Pushing newborn in the Lexus of strollers, the Bugaboo. This “celebrity” stroller makes babies in lesser than strollers feel bad about themselves. The newborn opened his eyes for 10 seconds and looked at me. Condescendingly. His expression and demeanor told me that he was thinking, “I have more in my savings than you. And I’ve been alive for 27 days.”
Dad 3 – White father. Asian baby. Goodwill Ambassador ? Or hot Japanese wife?
Here’s the thing. Guys with babies are hot. Bonus if the dad is a firefighter, chef, stunt double, furniture maker or Jesus like.
It should come to no surprise that these dads have acquired the name D.I.L.F. (Dads I Like to...”fiddle with.”)
Here's a remarkably ineffective sample sentence from my favorite unreliable source, Urban Dictionary. “I'm 47 and I was told by one on my sons 20 something friends (female) that I was a DILF. Kewl for me eh?”
- Ok, if you admit that you’re a DILF…you are not a DILF.
- If you’re 47 and write “ kewl”…you could be a pedophile who lures underage children on MySpace with your pathetic slang.
- If you say “eh”..you’re Canadian. Or even worse…French Canadian
Married women who have procreated, WARNING: DILF hunters are living amongst you. Your baby has become the "in" accessory that is becoming more appealing than your husband's nice ass, unavailability and big…paycheck . Disclaimer. I look but don’t touch because I’m in the process of karma cleansing and don’t wish to expand my list of past actions that lacked morality and ethics. Even if they were fun.
That’s just the kind of girl I am.
Saturdays in Brooklyn appear to be the day when daddies take over and the streets are filled with fathers being paternal-rrific with their offspring while mom takes a “me day.” I’m sitting in my office (which just coincidentally seems to be the same locale where I can buy overpriced coffee) and see some dad/kid interactions. And analyzing.
Dad 1 – Gave in to his 3ish year old daughter who was performing a topnotch Oscar worthy temper tantrum in order to receive a Danish. Cheese filled. Dad gave in and I assume mom would not have because New York moms know that if you want your kids to get into good schools…they can’t be fat. Ew.
Dad 2 - Pushing newborn in the Lexus of strollers, the Bugaboo. This “celebrity” stroller makes babies in lesser than strollers feel bad about themselves. The newborn opened his eyes for 10 seconds and looked at me. Condescendingly. His expression and demeanor told me that he was thinking, “I have more in my savings than you. And I’ve been alive for 27 days.”
Dad 3 – White father. Asian baby. Goodwill Ambassador ? Or hot Japanese wife?
Here’s the thing. Guys with babies are hot. Bonus if the dad is a firefighter, chef, stunt double, furniture maker or Jesus like.
It should come to no surprise that these dads have acquired the name D.I.L.F. (Dads I Like to...”fiddle with.”)
Here's a remarkably ineffective sample sentence from my favorite unreliable source, Urban Dictionary. “I'm 47 and I was told by one on my sons 20 something friends (female) that I was a DILF. Kewl for me eh?”
- Ok, if you admit that you’re a DILF…you are not a DILF.
- If you’re 47 and write “ kewl”…you could be a pedophile who lures underage children on MySpace with your pathetic slang.
- If you say “eh”..you’re Canadian. Or even worse…French Canadian
Married women who have procreated, WARNING: DILF hunters are living amongst you. Your baby has become the "in" accessory that is becoming more appealing than your husband's nice ass, unavailability and big…paycheck . Disclaimer. I look but don’t touch because I’m in the process of karma cleansing and don’t wish to expand my list of past actions that lacked morality and ethics. Even if they were fun.
That’s just the kind of girl I am.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Day 230 - Jax's Unrehab for Things that are Toxic and Fun
March 26th, 2010
I was sitting next to a woman on the subway this morning who was reading the “Pittsburgh Post-Gazette”. This struck me as odd for two reasons. We’re in New York and a headline read, “Police: Man tried to revive dead possum; alcohol involved.” I was unable to read the small print that detailed the roadkill incident so I decided to listen to another commuter’s music.This was possible because he had the cheap iPod headsets that might as well be high-end Bose speakers.
I could hear Amy Winehouse’s hit song "Rehab" describing her reluctance to enter a rehabilitation center.
Good for her. I can see her angle. I’d love to have the tabloids publish pictures of me with a mystery white powder in my nose. Wandering barefoot on a London street, wearing only jeans and a bra makes a bold statement and confidently projects, “Hey fans, I own my uniqueness and fashion forward sense." These were the same fans who booed a disoriented Winehouse off the stage at a UK concert. As an effective communicator, she told the booers,” Wait 'til my husband gets out of incarceration. And I mean that."
So it seems that Amy Winehouse’s previous stints in rehab have proved ineffective and readers, I know why. Amy’s handlers, in haste, sent her to the wrong rehabilitation center. By accident, she ended up at my clinic: Jax's Unrehab for Things that are Toxic and Fun.
This is geared towards people who have previously spent time in rehab clinics and return home only to discover that they no longer have the euphoria, confidence and zest that their addictions once provided their lives. At my clinic, I have gathered a team of untrained specialists who gently wean you back on the destructive substance and behavioral patterns that could destroy your life. But haven’t yet.
At Jax's Unrehab for Things that are Toxic and Fun, you will attend round table discussions that are certain to get you back on your path. To nowhere. Here are some sample lectures:
- Beat the signs of aging –Overdose
- Spread your seed. The benefits of sex addiction and the overpopulation myth
- Gambling- Lost your life savings? Remember, persistence makes you a winner
- The Therapist – A career for those wishing to desensitize themselves to their own issues
- The Danger of placebo pills
Next time you see Amy Winehouse in the tabloids, look closely and you’ll see that she is wearing a t-shirt with our clinic’s motto: At Jax's Unrehab for Things that are Toxic and Fun, we have the cleanest needles!
I was sitting next to a woman on the subway this morning who was reading the “Pittsburgh Post-Gazette”. This struck me as odd for two reasons. We’re in New York and a headline read, “Police: Man tried to revive dead possum; alcohol involved.” I was unable to read the small print that detailed the roadkill incident so I decided to listen to another commuter’s music.This was possible because he had the cheap iPod headsets that might as well be high-end Bose speakers.
I could hear Amy Winehouse’s hit song "Rehab" describing her reluctance to enter a rehabilitation center.
Good for her. I can see her angle. I’d love to have the tabloids publish pictures of me with a mystery white powder in my nose. Wandering barefoot on a London street, wearing only jeans and a bra makes a bold statement and confidently projects, “Hey fans, I own my uniqueness and fashion forward sense." These were the same fans who booed a disoriented Winehouse off the stage at a UK concert. As an effective communicator, she told the booers,” Wait 'til my husband gets out of incarceration. And I mean that."
So it seems that Amy Winehouse’s previous stints in rehab have proved ineffective and readers, I know why. Amy’s handlers, in haste, sent her to the wrong rehabilitation center. By accident, she ended up at my clinic: Jax's Unrehab for Things that are Toxic and Fun.
This is geared towards people who have previously spent time in rehab clinics and return home only to discover that they no longer have the euphoria, confidence and zest that their addictions once provided their lives. At my clinic, I have gathered a team of untrained specialists who gently wean you back on the destructive substance and behavioral patterns that could destroy your life. But haven’t yet.
At Jax's Unrehab for Things that are Toxic and Fun, you will attend round table discussions that are certain to get you back on your path. To nowhere. Here are some sample lectures:
- Beat the signs of aging –Overdose
- Spread your seed. The benefits of sex addiction and the overpopulation myth
- Gambling- Lost your life savings? Remember, persistence makes you a winner
- The Therapist – A career for those wishing to desensitize themselves to their own issues
- The Danger of placebo pills
Next time you see Amy Winehouse in the tabloids, look closely and you’ll see that she is wearing a t-shirt with our clinic’s motto: At Jax's Unrehab for Things that are Toxic and Fun, we have the cleanest needles!
Day 229 - Give it to Me. Yeah. You
March 25th, 2010
It has come to my attention that Emily Dickenson, Isaac Newton and fairy tale writer Hans Christian Andersen all died virgins. I’ve become aware of this truthiness because I was perusing an exceptionally reputable website called “ChaCha!”
I’ve also learned (through another esteemed site on the magical unicorn world of the interweb) that Hans Christian Anderson had a case of the “gay”. This has little to no shock value to me because, I mean, he was Danish. And the author of whimsical tales called "Thumbelina", "The Little Match Girl" and "The Snow Queen". All filled with fantastical gay goodness.
If you look very closely at excerpts from “The Snow Queen”, there are subtle hints of his preferred sexual preference.
-Now I must hasten away to warmer countries. I’m gay.”
-"Snip, snap, snare! It’s all right at last. I’m so gay”
"Roses bloom and cease to be, But we shall the Christ-child see. FYI. Me. A gay. A raging gay. Chant my battle cry with me…Gay! Gay! Gay!”
I’m going to do something very out of character for me and steer off topic now. We need to talk. Yeah. We.
As I enter my final 3rd of my 365 day blog entry challenge, I really want to challenge myself to be more edgy. As I reread what I wrote above, I need to push harder. If you’re saying, “No Jax.. Hans Christian Anderson screams “edgy.” You’re lying. But thanks.
I throw it out to you. Let me know what you crave to read. It can be illegal. Unethical. Taboo. Nothing is off limits. Give it to me. Hard. Where do you see irony? What makes you angry? Confused? Chances are you’re not alone and we should flesh it out. As a family.
So please share your conundrums that keep you up at night, make you a “functioning” alcoholic and are the catalyst for your addiction to vintage Barbie dolls. Black Barbies.
It would be... a virtual mitzvah.
It has come to my attention that Emily Dickenson, Isaac Newton and fairy tale writer Hans Christian Andersen all died virgins. I’ve become aware of this truthiness because I was perusing an exceptionally reputable website called “ChaCha!”
I’ve also learned (through another esteemed site on the magical unicorn world of the interweb) that Hans Christian Anderson had a case of the “gay”. This has little to no shock value to me because, I mean, he was Danish. And the author of whimsical tales called "Thumbelina", "The Little Match Girl" and "The Snow Queen". All filled with fantastical gay goodness.
If you look very closely at excerpts from “The Snow Queen”, there are subtle hints of his preferred sexual preference.
-Now I must hasten away to warmer countries. I’m gay.”
-"Snip, snap, snare! It’s all right at last. I’m so gay”
"Roses bloom and cease to be, But we shall the Christ-child see. FYI. Me. A gay. A raging gay. Chant my battle cry with me…Gay! Gay! Gay!”
I’m going to do something very out of character for me and steer off topic now. We need to talk. Yeah. We.
As I enter my final 3rd of my 365 day blog entry challenge, I really want to challenge myself to be more edgy. As I reread what I wrote above, I need to push harder. If you’re saying, “No Jax.. Hans Christian Anderson screams “edgy.” You’re lying. But thanks.
I throw it out to you. Let me know what you crave to read. It can be illegal. Unethical. Taboo. Nothing is off limits. Give it to me. Hard. Where do you see irony? What makes you angry? Confused? Chances are you’re not alone and we should flesh it out. As a family.
So please share your conundrums that keep you up at night, make you a “functioning” alcoholic and are the catalyst for your addiction to vintage Barbie dolls. Black Barbies.
It would be... a virtual mitzvah.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Day 228 - Women. Mud Wrestling. Ziti
March 24th, 2010
On day 36, I posted a sketch called “Penis.” http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/09/day-35-penis.html.
I wrote about what men do when they go to the bathroom together. It involved them pissing on each other while chanting “God damn I love my penis!” It only seems reasonable that I reveal to the men what happens when the ladies go to the bathroom. In bulk.
Girl 1, Girl 2 and Girl 3 are in the bathroom. They’re all hot. Like real hot.
(Girl 1 and Girl 2 are putting on makeup)
Girl 1 – So anyways. I’d love to have a threesome with you…but I’m not sure if my boyfriend would be into it because no guys fantasize about being with two women.
Girl 2 - I know. It’s hard to convince men to have sex with multiple hot women.
(Girl 3 walks out of the stall. Naked)
Girl 3 – Gosh it’s so hot in here. Wanna pillow fight?
Girl 1–Only if we can giggle Girl 3!
Girl 2 –Look! There just happens to be pillows in the bathroom of this Olive Garden!
(The three girls start pillow fighting while feathers fly everywhere)
Girl 1 – This is so fun and erotic. Wanna wrestle in the mud pit which, of course, is also in this bathroom?
Girl 3- Let’s do it! And by let’s do it, I mean let’s do it. With each other. In the mud.
(All three girls go in the mud pit and do lesbian stuff.)
Girl 2 – That was amazing. We should probably get back to our table. My Ziti al Forno isn’t gonna eat itself.
Girl 3 – You’re right. But we should shower first and sensually wash each other while we moan in heightened provocative pleasure.
(The three girls get in the shower. In the restaurant bathroom.)
THE END
On day 36, I posted a sketch called “Penis.” http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/09/day-35-penis.html.
I wrote about what men do when they go to the bathroom together. It involved them pissing on each other while chanting “God damn I love my penis!” It only seems reasonable that I reveal to the men what happens when the ladies go to the bathroom. In bulk.
Girl 1, Girl 2 and Girl 3 are in the bathroom. They’re all hot. Like real hot.
(Girl 1 and Girl 2 are putting on makeup)
Girl 1 – So anyways. I’d love to have a threesome with you…but I’m not sure if my boyfriend would be into it because no guys fantasize about being with two women.
Girl 2 - I know. It’s hard to convince men to have sex with multiple hot women.
(Girl 3 walks out of the stall. Naked)
Girl 3 – Gosh it’s so hot in here. Wanna pillow fight?
Girl 1–Only if we can giggle Girl 3!
Girl 2 –Look! There just happens to be pillows in the bathroom of this Olive Garden!
(The three girls start pillow fighting while feathers fly everywhere)
Girl 1 – This is so fun and erotic. Wanna wrestle in the mud pit which, of course, is also in this bathroom?
Girl 3- Let’s do it! And by let’s do it, I mean let’s do it. With each other. In the mud.
(All three girls go in the mud pit and do lesbian stuff.)
Girl 2 – That was amazing. We should probably get back to our table. My Ziti al Forno isn’t gonna eat itself.
Girl 3 – You’re right. But we should shower first and sensually wash each other while we moan in heightened provocative pleasure.
(The three girls get in the shower. In the restaurant bathroom.)
THE END
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Day 227 - Unjustifiable Discothèque
March 23rd, 2010
On day 2, I delivered to you a blog entitled “The Mind of a Guy's Girl.” I wrote, “I love hanging with you guys. I cringe at the thought of hanging with the giggly girls who drink appletinis, watch “Grey’s Anatomy” and sing along to “I will Survive.” Oh Gloria Gaynor, your discothèque anthem has been “empowering” drunk sorority girls for too long and it’s no wonder the song was rated number nine on George Carlin's “10 Most Embarrassing Songs of All Time.”
The reality is when I am forced to listen to people sing this song, I very much feel that there is a strong chance that I will not survive. Although these wannabe crooners are attempting to convey that they’re experiencing 2 1/2 minutes of heightened self-actualization, their intrusion of my listening space is killing me. Inside.
My only survival mechanism – Read between the lines and re-dissect the song.
First I was afraid
I was petrified
(More mildly concerned and PMSing)
Kept thinking I could never live
without you by my side
(But you were short and fat. When we walked next to each other, we looked like the number 10)
But I spent so many nights
(At the Howards Johnson airport)
thinking how you did me wrong
I grew strong
(steroids)
I learned how to carry on
and so you're back
from outer space
(Were you anally probed?)
I just walked in to find you here
(breaking and entering)
with that sad look upon your face
I should have changed my stupid lock
(I shouldn’t have bought my home alarm system. Used. On Craigslist).
I should have made you leave your key
(And the $10,000 you owe me)
If I had known for just one second
you'd be back to bother me
(Even though..it is flattering. But I hate you. Let’s kiss.)
Go on now go walk out the door
(Oh..you’re feeling the music? Well then, shimmy out the door. With jazz hands.)
just turn around now
'cause you're not welcome anymore
(Unless I’m drunk, naked and in the mood to make bad decisions)
Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye
you think I'd crumble
(Because you think I’m a delicate flower. But I’m strong. Like Ox. Thanks Scientology!)
You think I'd lay down and die
Oh no, not I
(Or not me?)
I will survive
as long as i know how to love
(First I had to learn how to love myself…with the help of double AA batteries.)
I know I will stay alive
(I should write a song about Staying Alive. Been done? My bad)
I've got all my life to live
(Longer than yours. Because I’m a woman)
I've got all my love to give
(I give my love as a teddy bear. In a bag)
and I'll survive
I will survive
It took all the strength I had
not to fall apart
kept trying hard to mend
(with the help of Methamphetamines)
the pieces of my broken heart
and I spent oh so many nights
(whoring around the tri-state area)
just feeling sorry for myself
(Eating Ben and Jerry’s,taking Omega 3 supplements and drinking boxes of wine)
I used to cry
Now I hold my head up high
and you see me
somebody new
I'm not that chained up little person
(Except when things got kinky)
still in love with you
(Maybe just obsessed. I have dedicated an alter to you.)
and so you felt like dropping in
and just expect me to be free
(OK. I can make some time for you on weekends and holidays. And August.)
now I'm saving all my loving
for someone who's loving me
(Please..please love me! Don’t leave me! What? You left me because I would sing along to “I Will Survive”. Yeah. That makes sense. I wish you the best. No, that’s cool. Keep the key.)
On day 2, I delivered to you a blog entitled “The Mind of a Guy's Girl.” I wrote, “I love hanging with you guys. I cringe at the thought of hanging with the giggly girls who drink appletinis, watch “Grey’s Anatomy” and sing along to “I will Survive.” Oh Gloria Gaynor, your discothèque anthem has been “empowering” drunk sorority girls for too long and it’s no wonder the song was rated number nine on George Carlin's “10 Most Embarrassing Songs of All Time.”
The reality is when I am forced to listen to people sing this song, I very much feel that there is a strong chance that I will not survive. Although these wannabe crooners are attempting to convey that they’re experiencing 2 1/2 minutes of heightened self-actualization, their intrusion of my listening space is killing me. Inside.
My only survival mechanism – Read between the lines and re-dissect the song.
First I was afraid
I was petrified
(More mildly concerned and PMSing)
Kept thinking I could never live
without you by my side
(But you were short and fat. When we walked next to each other, we looked like the number 10)
But I spent so many nights
(At the Howards Johnson airport)
thinking how you did me wrong
I grew strong
(steroids)
I learned how to carry on
and so you're back
from outer space
(Were you anally probed?)
I just walked in to find you here
(breaking and entering)
with that sad look upon your face
I should have changed my stupid lock
(I shouldn’t have bought my home alarm system. Used. On Craigslist).
I should have made you leave your key
(And the $10,000 you owe me)
If I had known for just one second
you'd be back to bother me
(Even though..it is flattering. But I hate you. Let’s kiss.)
Go on now go walk out the door
(Oh..you’re feeling the music? Well then, shimmy out the door. With jazz hands.)
just turn around now
'cause you're not welcome anymore
(Unless I’m drunk, naked and in the mood to make bad decisions)
Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye
you think I'd crumble
(Because you think I’m a delicate flower. But I’m strong. Like Ox. Thanks Scientology!)
You think I'd lay down and die
Oh no, not I
(Or not me?)
I will survive
as long as i know how to love
(First I had to learn how to love myself…with the help of double AA batteries.)
I know I will stay alive
(I should write a song about Staying Alive. Been done? My bad)
I've got all my life to live
(Longer than yours. Because I’m a woman)
I've got all my love to give
(I give my love as a teddy bear. In a bag)
and I'll survive
I will survive
It took all the strength I had
not to fall apart
kept trying hard to mend
(with the help of Methamphetamines)
the pieces of my broken heart
and I spent oh so many nights
(whoring around the tri-state area)
just feeling sorry for myself
(Eating Ben and Jerry’s,taking Omega 3 supplements and drinking boxes of wine)
I used to cry
Now I hold my head up high
and you see me
somebody new
I'm not that chained up little person
(Except when things got kinky)
still in love with you
(Maybe just obsessed. I have dedicated an alter to you.)
and so you felt like dropping in
and just expect me to be free
(OK. I can make some time for you on weekends and holidays. And August.)
now I'm saving all my loving
for someone who's loving me
(Please..please love me! Don’t leave me! What? You left me because I would sing along to “I Will Survive”. Yeah. That makes sense. I wish you the best. No, that’s cool. Keep the key.)
Monday, March 22, 2010
Day 226 - The J-Team
March 22nd, 2010
Little known non-fact, I was the creator, director, producer and star of a TV show that you’ve never seen. Part of my reason for committing to a 365 blog entry challenge is to have a home for all the creative gems and disasters that have found their way into my brain. So nothing will get lost in the overbooked creative universe, I feel committed to document and share my short-lived show, “The J- Team.”
Since it is based on the “A-Team,” I have included Wikipedia’s description of the two shows.
The A-Team - An American action adventure television series about a fictional group of ex-United States Army Special Forces who work as soldiers of fortune while being on the run from the military for a "crime they didn't commit". The "A-Team" was created by writers and producers Frank Lupo and Stephen J. Cannell (who also collaborated together on “Wiseguy”, “Riptide” and" Hunter").
The J-Team - An American Christian science fiction live-action/animation television series about a fictional group of ex-census takers who work as ring tone composers while being on the run from airport security scanners (without GEDs) for a "crime they DID commit". But shouldn’t count. Because they were naked, drunk and practicing bad decision making. The "J-Team" was created by Jacqueline Kabat and her imaginary friends (who also collaborated together on “Not Without My Turban", "CPR: Overrated" ” and ”Y2K, You were indeed..OK").
The A-Team - Despite being thought of as mercenaries by the other characters in the show, the A-Team always acted on the side of good and helped the oppressed. The show ran for five seasons on the NBC television network, from January 23, 1983 to December 30, 1986 (with one additional, previously unbroadcast episode shown on March 8, 1987), for a total of 98 episodes.
The J-Team - Despite being thought of as “zany crazy kids” by the other characters in the show, the J-Team always made the reprehensibly wrong (borderline evil )decisions that would impress Hitler, Stalin and OJ Simpson. The show ran for five minutes on a local cable network outside of Trenton, NJ, from March 22nd, 2010 2:30am- 2:35am, for a total of 1/12th of an episode.
The A-Team - It remains known in popular culture. The show also served as the springboard for the career of Mr. T, who portrayed the character of B.A. Baracus, Some of the show's catchphrases were,"I love it when a plan comes together","Hannibal's on the jazz" and "I ain't gettin' on no plane!" have also made their way onto T-shirts and other merchandise.
The J-Team - It remains unknown in ALL cultures. The show did nothing for the career of Jacqueline Kabat, who portrayed the character of J.A.X Baracus-Obama. Some of the show's catchphrases were, "You’re so Gallagher"," Strangers have the best candy!" and “Would you like to join me for a staged moon landing?” .
Little known non-fact, I was the creator, director, producer and star of a TV show that you’ve never seen. Part of my reason for committing to a 365 blog entry challenge is to have a home for all the creative gems and disasters that have found their way into my brain. So nothing will get lost in the overbooked creative universe, I feel committed to document and share my short-lived show, “The J- Team.”
Since it is based on the “A-Team,” I have included Wikipedia’s description of the two shows.
The A-Team - An American action adventure television series about a fictional group of ex-United States Army Special Forces who work as soldiers of fortune while being on the run from the military for a "crime they didn't commit". The "A-Team" was created by writers and producers Frank Lupo and Stephen J. Cannell (who also collaborated together on “Wiseguy”, “Riptide” and" Hunter").
The J-Team - An American Christian science fiction live-action/animation television series about a fictional group of ex-census takers who work as ring tone composers while being on the run from airport security scanners (without GEDs) for a "crime they DID commit". But shouldn’t count. Because they were naked, drunk and practicing bad decision making. The "J-Team" was created by Jacqueline Kabat and her imaginary friends (who also collaborated together on “Not Without My Turban", "CPR: Overrated" ” and ”Y2K, You were indeed..OK").
The A-Team - Despite being thought of as mercenaries by the other characters in the show, the A-Team always acted on the side of good and helped the oppressed. The show ran for five seasons on the NBC television network, from January 23, 1983 to December 30, 1986 (with one additional, previously unbroadcast episode shown on March 8, 1987), for a total of 98 episodes.
The J-Team - Despite being thought of as “zany crazy kids” by the other characters in the show, the J-Team always made the reprehensibly wrong (borderline evil )decisions that would impress Hitler, Stalin and OJ Simpson. The show ran for five minutes on a local cable network outside of Trenton, NJ, from March 22nd, 2010 2:30am- 2:35am, for a total of 1/12th of an episode.
The A-Team - It remains known in popular culture. The show also served as the springboard for the career of Mr. T, who portrayed the character of B.A. Baracus, Some of the show's catchphrases were,"I love it when a plan comes together","Hannibal's on the jazz" and "I ain't gettin' on no plane!" have also made their way onto T-shirts and other merchandise.
The J-Team - It remains unknown in ALL cultures. The show did nothing for the career of Jacqueline Kabat, who portrayed the character of J.A.X Baracus-Obama. Some of the show's catchphrases were, "You’re so Gallagher"," Strangers have the best candy!" and “Would you like to join me for a staged moon landing?” .
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Day 225 - Straight Men, Gay Up
March 21st, 2010
Admittedly, I have dated guys that could be interpreted as giving off the gay vibe. Sometimes flamboyantly. In most cases, I don’t think any of these men would act on their impulses that I do think is genetically wired in their DNA. But sometimes it’s challenging to discount when your boyfriend thinks a female sex toy is a mantelpiece.
Of course there are variations of sexuality subsets frolicking amongst us. Remarkably, on many occasions, I’ll be introduced to men that my friends, family and mild acquaintances are dating and I think, “Wow, nice guy. Too bad she doesn’t know he’s gay. I’ll take a deep red polish.” Oh, I mean a red polish for my toes. I ran into my friend and her new boyfriend when we were getting pedicures.
This note is geared towards straight men that are not getting laid. Mistake # 1. You’re acting too straight. The guys who score with the ladies ooze a compelling gay goodness that usually involves their body radiating a hue of bright orange flames and rainbows. And they’re finagling their way into the hearts and minds of the women you desire. I know it. I see it. I’ve lived it.
Let me be clear. These are not meterosexuals that I speak of. My sense is that these guys are clearly wired as homosexuals but their unfortunate skewed interpretation of social norms, religious fopas and general internal conflict around their identities often prevent them from acting on their impulses. As a result, these men are giving the face time (and fornication time) to the women that the hetero species would like to fall in love with. Or tap.
Men of straightness, it’s time to up your gay game. You have competition. Be a contender. Use your instincts and learn how to scream, “Hey, I’m flamboyant-riffic.” Study Tom Cruise, Smurfs and approach a naked man in a public area for absolutely no reason.
If you lose momentum during your gay up training, just remember that women like the company of the overly fashion and body conscious, quick witted “straight man” that thinks we’re beautiful. And tell us. As a result we effortlessly turn a blind eye to the fact that purses are flying out of our boyfriend’s mouth.
Admittedly, I have dated guys that could be interpreted as giving off the gay vibe. Sometimes flamboyantly. In most cases, I don’t think any of these men would act on their impulses that I do think is genetically wired in their DNA. But sometimes it’s challenging to discount when your boyfriend thinks a female sex toy is a mantelpiece.
Of course there are variations of sexuality subsets frolicking amongst us. Remarkably, on many occasions, I’ll be introduced to men that my friends, family and mild acquaintances are dating and I think, “Wow, nice guy. Too bad she doesn’t know he’s gay. I’ll take a deep red polish.” Oh, I mean a red polish for my toes. I ran into my friend and her new boyfriend when we were getting pedicures.
This note is geared towards straight men that are not getting laid. Mistake # 1. You’re acting too straight. The guys who score with the ladies ooze a compelling gay goodness that usually involves their body radiating a hue of bright orange flames and rainbows. And they’re finagling their way into the hearts and minds of the women you desire. I know it. I see it. I’ve lived it.
Let me be clear. These are not meterosexuals that I speak of. My sense is that these guys are clearly wired as homosexuals but their unfortunate skewed interpretation of social norms, religious fopas and general internal conflict around their identities often prevent them from acting on their impulses. As a result, these men are giving the face time (and fornication time) to the women that the hetero species would like to fall in love with. Or tap.
Men of straightness, it’s time to up your gay game. You have competition. Be a contender. Use your instincts and learn how to scream, “Hey, I’m flamboyant-riffic.” Study Tom Cruise, Smurfs and approach a naked man in a public area for absolutely no reason.
If you lose momentum during your gay up training, just remember that women like the company of the overly fashion and body conscious, quick witted “straight man” that thinks we’re beautiful. And tell us. As a result we effortlessly turn a blind eye to the fact that purses are flying out of our boyfriend’s mouth.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Day 224 – Smoke and Asses
March 20th, 2010
I’m sitting at Café Pedlar in Brooklyn, writing today’s blog with sun shining in, Brazilian music is playing and I’m drinking my latte that was supposed to be made with soy milk. It appears to be whole milk...and it’s good. Real good. I’m taking a short respite and partaking in my obligatory guilty pleasure of perusing Facebook before I get on with being productive and moving forward in my life.
I get a lot of slack about having 1,859 Facebook friends. Here’s the deal, I know all of them. Most of them. Comedians like to network and we all find each other on the virtual addictive time waster of Facebook.
The reality is that I’ve had a lot of lives, have met a lot of people and have been diligent about adding new friends, acquaintances and imaginary robotic unicorns to my Outlook address book.
Reconnecting with people we didn’t care enough about to stay in touch with to begin with is the “it” virtual trend that has no forecast of losing momentum. This has inspired my next creative project that will be a documentary of me traveling the globe to meet (face to face) every single one of my Facebook friends, enemies and frenemies.
Here is a sampling of some of my “friends” that I will (we will) be meeting. In person. I’m going to omit names since this documentary is in the preproduction phase. Otherwise I’d need you to sign a confidentiality agreement so I get to sue you if you tell your grandmother that I have an incarcerated friend named Shmitty Mcgee. With a third nipple. On day 125, I learned a thing or two about confidentiality agreements. Or lack thereof. - http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-125-executive-in-charge-of-myself.html.
Facebook friend 1 – This was a girl from my elementary school days that had a negative disposition (even cryptic…probably would have run with the vampire crowd if she was a kid in 2010.)Now she seems to have transformed into my big fan and makes light and fluffy zinger comments about my blogs. Note to readers: Blowing smoke up my ass is welcome. Unless it’s real smoke.
Facebook friend 2 – This guy is from college. Didn’t say much. In love with my roommate. Had crazy eyes.
Facebook friend 3 – I went out with this guy briefly in 2008. He had a temper tantrum when I gently let him know that I didn’t see a future for us. In the middle of his meltdown, I left and got caught in a marching band.
Facebook friend 4 – I went to high school with this girl. Known for her bad breath.
Facebook 5 - I’m related to this guy. Kind of. He was adopted...and doesn’t know it. But I do. And you do.
Facebook 6 - This guy. Gay as a French horn.
Facebook friend 7- I performed comedy improv with this girl years ago. Chronic masturbator.
Facebook friend 8 - I never found this high school acquaintance to be particularly nice. But she had great hair. Not one...NOT ONE split end.
Facebook friend 9 – This guy was from youth group in 8th grade. He accused me of staring at his penis at a Bar Mitzvah.
Facebook friend 10 – I met this girl through an old coworker. She is a born again Christian and kept trying to recruit me. I wasn’t interested. So I hit her.
I’m sitting at Café Pedlar in Brooklyn, writing today’s blog with sun shining in, Brazilian music is playing and I’m drinking my latte that was supposed to be made with soy milk. It appears to be whole milk...and it’s good. Real good. I’m taking a short respite and partaking in my obligatory guilty pleasure of perusing Facebook before I get on with being productive and moving forward in my life.
I get a lot of slack about having 1,859 Facebook friends. Here’s the deal, I know all of them. Most of them. Comedians like to network and we all find each other on the virtual addictive time waster of Facebook.
The reality is that I’ve had a lot of lives, have met a lot of people and have been diligent about adding new friends, acquaintances and imaginary robotic unicorns to my Outlook address book.
Reconnecting with people we didn’t care enough about to stay in touch with to begin with is the “it” virtual trend that has no forecast of losing momentum. This has inspired my next creative project that will be a documentary of me traveling the globe to meet (face to face) every single one of my Facebook friends, enemies and frenemies.
Here is a sampling of some of my “friends” that I will (we will) be meeting. In person. I’m going to omit names since this documentary is in the preproduction phase. Otherwise I’d need you to sign a confidentiality agreement so I get to sue you if you tell your grandmother that I have an incarcerated friend named Shmitty Mcgee. With a third nipple. On day 125, I learned a thing or two about confidentiality agreements. Or lack thereof. - http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-125-executive-in-charge-of-myself.html.
Facebook friend 1 – This was a girl from my elementary school days that had a negative disposition (even cryptic…probably would have run with the vampire crowd if she was a kid in 2010.)Now she seems to have transformed into my big fan and makes light and fluffy zinger comments about my blogs. Note to readers: Blowing smoke up my ass is welcome. Unless it’s real smoke.
Facebook friend 2 – This guy is from college. Didn’t say much. In love with my roommate. Had crazy eyes.
Facebook friend 3 – I went out with this guy briefly in 2008. He had a temper tantrum when I gently let him know that I didn’t see a future for us. In the middle of his meltdown, I left and got caught in a marching band.
Facebook friend 4 – I went to high school with this girl. Known for her bad breath.
Facebook 5 - I’m related to this guy. Kind of. He was adopted...and doesn’t know it. But I do. And you do.
Facebook 6 - This guy. Gay as a French horn.
Facebook friend 7- I performed comedy improv with this girl years ago. Chronic masturbator.
Facebook friend 8 - I never found this high school acquaintance to be particularly nice. But she had great hair. Not one...NOT ONE split end.
Facebook friend 9 – This guy was from youth group in 8th grade. He accused me of staring at his penis at a Bar Mitzvah.
Facebook friend 10 – I met this girl through an old coworker. She is a born again Christian and kept trying to recruit me. I wasn’t interested. So I hit her.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Day 223 - Ask Jax - Part 5
March 19th, 2010
This is the fifth installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering any of your pressing inquiries. Any topic. I can't guarantee instant publication, but I will hold onto all questions and attempt to answer them at some point during my 365 day blog entry challenge. Remember there are no stupid questions. Just stupid people who ask questions.
If someone with a split personality threatens to commit suicide, is it a hostage situation? - Brian M. Levy, Dallas, Texas
Jax’s Answer: Let’s hope so because this could be a gripping movie premise. But only if this individual has multiple personalities because we need to cast a third personality as the super cool hostage negotiator. Played by Ray Liotta. He would gain the trust of the perpetrator personality by being really handsome and, after a lengthy standoff, winning the heart of the hostage taker by supplying a peace offering pizza. Extra cheese.
Have you had Reiki done? Did it work? - Page Newsom, Pelphrey, Guilford, Connecticut
Jax’s Answer – Two years ago, I did receive Reiki by a healer named Grey Wolf when I was teaching a comedy improv workshop in San Miguel, Mexico. I experienced some relief from this alternative technique where practitioners are transferring "healing energy" through their palms. I’ve been told I’m “energy sensitive,” and I absolutely felt that the Reiki master had accomplished clearing some negative energy that was not serving me. However, this practice involves little to no touch. When I desire to keep my chakras aligned, I’d prefer to pay for a Swedish massage, acupuncture or sex.
Where is my husband? - Julie Trell, San Francisco, California
Jax’s Answer: If you’re single, he’s in your mind’s eye. If you’re married, he’s in Pittsburgh. With a hooker.
This is the fifth installment of my "Ask Jax" series. I'm open to answering any of your pressing inquiries. Any topic. I can't guarantee instant publication, but I will hold onto all questions and attempt to answer them at some point during my 365 day blog entry challenge. Remember there are no stupid questions. Just stupid people who ask questions.
If someone with a split personality threatens to commit suicide, is it a hostage situation? - Brian M. Levy, Dallas, Texas
Jax’s Answer: Let’s hope so because this could be a gripping movie premise. But only if this individual has multiple personalities because we need to cast a third personality as the super cool hostage negotiator. Played by Ray Liotta. He would gain the trust of the perpetrator personality by being really handsome and, after a lengthy standoff, winning the heart of the hostage taker by supplying a peace offering pizza. Extra cheese.
Have you had Reiki done? Did it work? - Page Newsom, Pelphrey, Guilford, Connecticut
Jax’s Answer – Two years ago, I did receive Reiki by a healer named Grey Wolf when I was teaching a comedy improv workshop in San Miguel, Mexico. I experienced some relief from this alternative technique where practitioners are transferring "healing energy" through their palms. I’ve been told I’m “energy sensitive,” and I absolutely felt that the Reiki master had accomplished clearing some negative energy that was not serving me. However, this practice involves little to no touch. When I desire to keep my chakras aligned, I’d prefer to pay for a Swedish massage, acupuncture or sex.
Where is my husband? - Julie Trell, San Francisco, California
Jax’s Answer: If you’re single, he’s in your mind’s eye. If you’re married, he’s in Pittsburgh. With a hooker.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Day 222 - Punani Block
March 18th, 2010
As you know, I unnaturally enjoy spending intimate time with Urban Dictionary, a website dedicated to defining slang, phrases and phenomena not found in standard dictionaries. Sexist, racist and homophobic terms are permitted as long as their definitions only document the use of such slurs and are not themselves abusive.
That hasn’t really been my experience while perusing definitions… but God bless Urban-Dick for throwing out this disclaimer as a protective mechanism should they be approached by a lawyer( which they define as a “A scum-sucking lowlife, and the lowest form of life on planet Earth next to child molesters. A greedy, dishonest, self-righteous piece-of-crap that convinces you to file a meaningless lawsuit for his own profit. They have a God-given talent for turning common sense truth into a pile of lies and confusion by misleading juries into believing their nonsensical malarkey.”)
Today I visited my favorite uncredible website because the term “cock block” has been something that I’ve been observing, discussing and analyzing quite a bit recently.
Here are the definitions they give me. They give us.
-One who prevents another from getting "play", "poontang", etc.
-Any action that impedes or stalls another's "game", "mack", or "pimp manuver"
-The act of preventing one of your friends the privilege of hiding his Wilson in a womans cooch
Urban Dictionary really wants us to get the essence of subculture words and test boundaries with the names of people in their oddly structured and grammatically incorrect sample sentences:
-Bertha's brother came home early, what a cock block.
-Spicy Ray cock blocked me by telling the bitch I was married with two kids at home.
-Bonni, Joby, Sunil and Sajan goin over to Bino's house.When Bino and his special someone are at the house trying to get it on; thereby stopping any chance of getting any that night!
That is referred to as tag team or Group Cockblocking.
I think we all can agree that the blocking of the cock is “uncool”(especially when being perpetrated by a so-called friend.)
Guys, I know that this term is generally associated with guy on guy block action. But here’s the thing, I have seen girls aggressively trying to throw themselves on men that another estrogen fueled species is clearly connecting with. There’s no real word for this. Woo ha block? Vagaga block? Punani block?
Here is my (gentle) plea to the guys and girls who feel the urge to prevent people from a night of sin or a lifetime of happiness– DON’T COCK/PUNANI BLOCK friends, strangers and imaginary people in your head. It’s the exaggeration of lacking self-assurance, self-control and sophistication. Karma will present itself in your lifetime and bite you in the ass. Bite you in the ass hard.
This really gets me heated and I could go on but my friend is talking to a smokin’ hot guy.His name is Spicy Ray. I must have him. Stat.
As you know, I unnaturally enjoy spending intimate time with Urban Dictionary, a website dedicated to defining slang, phrases and phenomena not found in standard dictionaries. Sexist, racist and homophobic terms are permitted as long as their definitions only document the use of such slurs and are not themselves abusive.
That hasn’t really been my experience while perusing definitions… but God bless Urban-Dick for throwing out this disclaimer as a protective mechanism should they be approached by a lawyer( which they define as a “A scum-sucking lowlife, and the lowest form of life on planet Earth next to child molesters. A greedy, dishonest, self-righteous piece-of-crap that convinces you to file a meaningless lawsuit for his own profit. They have a God-given talent for turning common sense truth into a pile of lies and confusion by misleading juries into believing their nonsensical malarkey.”)
Today I visited my favorite uncredible website because the term “cock block” has been something that I’ve been observing, discussing and analyzing quite a bit recently.
Here are the definitions they give me. They give us.
-One who prevents another from getting "play", "poontang", etc.
-Any action that impedes or stalls another's "game", "mack", or "pimp manuver"
-The act of preventing one of your friends the privilege of hiding his Wilson in a womans cooch
Urban Dictionary really wants us to get the essence of subculture words and test boundaries with the names of people in their oddly structured and grammatically incorrect sample sentences:
-Bertha's brother came home early, what a cock block.
-Spicy Ray cock blocked me by telling the bitch I was married with two kids at home.
-Bonni, Joby, Sunil and Sajan goin over to Bino's house.When Bino and his special someone are at the house trying to get it on; thereby stopping any chance of getting any that night!
That is referred to as tag team or Group Cockblocking.
I think we all can agree that the blocking of the cock is “uncool”(especially when being perpetrated by a so-called friend.)
Guys, I know that this term is generally associated with guy on guy block action. But here’s the thing, I have seen girls aggressively trying to throw themselves on men that another estrogen fueled species is clearly connecting with. There’s no real word for this. Woo ha block? Vagaga block? Punani block?
Here is my (gentle) plea to the guys and girls who feel the urge to prevent people from a night of sin or a lifetime of happiness– DON’T COCK/PUNANI BLOCK friends, strangers and imaginary people in your head. It’s the exaggeration of lacking self-assurance, self-control and sophistication. Karma will present itself in your lifetime and bite you in the ass. Bite you in the ass hard.
This really gets me heated and I could go on but my friend is talking to a smokin’ hot guy.His name is Spicy Ray. I must have him. Stat.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Day 221 - TV. Gone Bad
March 17th, 2010
Dear LOST creators, writers and actors,
It’s like you just stopped trying. Your once groundbreaking series is wrapping up like a poor man’s Indiana Jones. J.J. Abrams had such a brilliant premise and story arc – and is losing it as we head toward the finale. Abrams, you’re disappointing me. Hard.
Season one was, without a doubt, one of the most illustriously gripping and unique pieces of television that I’ve ever seen. And now you’re serving me inconsistent haste, soap opera acting and (the bad kind of) laughable new story lines? My favorite show has now succumbed to the Seinfeld syndrome where our beloved friends got a Good Samaritan violation. Not wise to end an iconic show with viewers experiencing their once beloved leads as reprehensible dicks.
3 of my favorite shows have not yet decided to wrap up and I beg them to stay strong. In an effort to prevent the impending crash and burn of good TV, I gently throw out some suggestions that series should consider not going in when ending their run.
1) "True Blood"
IMDB Plot Summary:
The series follows Sookie Stackhouse, a barmaid living in Louisiana who can read people's minds, and how her life is turned upside down when the Vampire Bill, walks into her place of employment two years after vampires 'came out of the coffin' on national television.
Jax’s Advice on What Shouldn’t Happen:
Sookie and crew all relocate to an Olive Garden in Duluth, Minnesota. All sex appeal and vampire shenanigans dissipate in the frigid temperatures and mediocre chain restaurant. They all begin to adhere to the Olive Garden slogan, “When you're here, you're family.” They take it literally and start developing tight familial bonds and the biggest conflict is deciding which cruise line to go on for Christmas vacation. They go with the Carnival line because of the midnight buffet on the lido deck. There’s and endless shrimp bowl.
2) "Curb Your Enthusiasm"
IMDB Plot Summary:
He's got it all: a loving wife, good friends, a successful career, a great home..what could possibly go wrong for Larry David? Seinfeld co-creator Larry David stars as himself in this hilarious, off-kilter comedy series that presents an unflinching, self-depreciating depiction of his life.
Jax’s Advice on What Shouldn’t Happen:
Larry David becomes a paralyzed mute. With a heart of gold.
3) "The Office"
IMDB Plot Summary:
A remake of the hit 2001 BBC TV series The Office (2001), this is a mockumentary that documents the exploits of a paper supply company in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Made up of head chief Michael Scott, a harmlessly deluded and ignorantly insensitive boss who cares about the welfare of his employees while trying to put his own spin on company policy. With an office including the likes of various peers who have their own hangups, The Office (2005) takes a look at the lives of its co-workers: bored but talented salesman Jim, his mildly sociopathic, butt kissing enemy Dwight, mildly righteous receptionist Pam, and indifferent temp Ryan.
Jax’s Advice on What Shouldn’t Happen:
Dwight and Jim come to terms that their ongoing feud has been driven by sexual tension. Heartbroken Pam takes their baby and starts a promising cult at a Supercuts outside of Scranton called Branch Davidians 2.
Dwight and Jim are married in a touching (but not over the top ceremony) in the office's conference room. Ryan has become an ordained minister and performs the ceremony.
Michael finds a new career at street fairs. As a talking mime.
Dear LOST creators, writers and actors,
It’s like you just stopped trying. Your once groundbreaking series is wrapping up like a poor man’s Indiana Jones. J.J. Abrams had such a brilliant premise and story arc – and is losing it as we head toward the finale. Abrams, you’re disappointing me. Hard.
Season one was, without a doubt, one of the most illustriously gripping and unique pieces of television that I’ve ever seen. And now you’re serving me inconsistent haste, soap opera acting and (the bad kind of) laughable new story lines? My favorite show has now succumbed to the Seinfeld syndrome where our beloved friends got a Good Samaritan violation. Not wise to end an iconic show with viewers experiencing their once beloved leads as reprehensible dicks.
3 of my favorite shows have not yet decided to wrap up and I beg them to stay strong. In an effort to prevent the impending crash and burn of good TV, I gently throw out some suggestions that series should consider not going in when ending their run.
1) "True Blood"
IMDB Plot Summary:
The series follows Sookie Stackhouse, a barmaid living in Louisiana who can read people's minds, and how her life is turned upside down when the Vampire Bill, walks into her place of employment two years after vampires 'came out of the coffin' on national television.
Jax’s Advice on What Shouldn’t Happen:
Sookie and crew all relocate to an Olive Garden in Duluth, Minnesota. All sex appeal and vampire shenanigans dissipate in the frigid temperatures and mediocre chain restaurant. They all begin to adhere to the Olive Garden slogan, “When you're here, you're family.” They take it literally and start developing tight familial bonds and the biggest conflict is deciding which cruise line to go on for Christmas vacation. They go with the Carnival line because of the midnight buffet on the lido deck. There’s and endless shrimp bowl.
2) "Curb Your Enthusiasm"
IMDB Plot Summary:
He's got it all: a loving wife, good friends, a successful career, a great home..what could possibly go wrong for Larry David? Seinfeld co-creator Larry David stars as himself in this hilarious, off-kilter comedy series that presents an unflinching, self-depreciating depiction of his life.
Jax’s Advice on What Shouldn’t Happen:
Larry David becomes a paralyzed mute. With a heart of gold.
3) "The Office"
IMDB Plot Summary:
A remake of the hit 2001 BBC TV series The Office (2001), this is a mockumentary that documents the exploits of a paper supply company in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Made up of head chief Michael Scott, a harmlessly deluded and ignorantly insensitive boss who cares about the welfare of his employees while trying to put his own spin on company policy. With an office including the likes of various peers who have their own hangups, The Office (2005) takes a look at the lives of its co-workers: bored but talented salesman Jim, his mildly sociopathic, butt kissing enemy Dwight, mildly righteous receptionist Pam, and indifferent temp Ryan.
Jax’s Advice on What Shouldn’t Happen:
Dwight and Jim come to terms that their ongoing feud has been driven by sexual tension. Heartbroken Pam takes their baby and starts a promising cult at a Supercuts outside of Scranton called Branch Davidians 2.
Dwight and Jim are married in a touching (but not over the top ceremony) in the office's conference room. Ryan has become an ordained minister and performs the ceremony.
Michael finds a new career at street fairs. As a talking mime.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Day 220 - Coincidence? You Make the Call
March 16th, 2010
A plane leaves O’Hare airport at 11:47 am at 170 miles per hour. At the exact same time, a man in Little Rock, Arkansas buys a pound of ground beef. Coincidence? You make the call.
I’ve always been intrigued by these people, places and things that seem to have some uncanny and accidental connection. Then there are mathematicians named Ludwig that attempt to take away the mystique of a solid coinkidink by spewing out words like probability, index and statistics. Why Ludwig? Why? Can’t we just believe that the universe can inexplicably connect two things in a nonsensical way, shape or form? Explain this Lud-dog.
The Lincoln and John F. Kennedy Connection
• Both presidents were shot in the head, on a Friday.
• Both were seated beside their wives when shot. Neither Mrs. Lincoln nor Mrs. Kennedy was injured. Both wives held the bullet-torn heads of their husbands.
• Lincoln was shot at Ford's Theatre. Kennedy was shot in a Ford product, a Lincoln limousine.
• Booth shot Lincoln at a theatre and was cornered in a warehouse. Oswald shot Kennedy from a warehouse and was cornered in a theatre.
• Lincoln and JFK had four children, two of whom died before becoming a teen.
• Both presidents were elected to the House of Representatives in '46, runners-up for the party's nomination for vice-president in '56 and elected to the presidency in '60.
• The Vice Presidents: Andrew Johnson was born in 1808, and Lyndon Johnson was born in 1908.
• Both Johnsons chose not to run for reelection in '68.
Along with the Lincoln and JFK connection, there is another comparison that has stumped coincidence nonbelievers.
My connection to Janice from the Muppets
This is going to blow your mind.
•Janice is the lead guitar player in the Electric Mayhem on “The Muppet Show.” I took guitar for 5 minutes in college.
•Janice has a very close relationship with the Electric Mayhem's bass player, Floyd Pepper. I went to a bar named Floyd on Saturday.
•We both bear a smidge of resemblance to Janice Joplin.
•She’s orange and I’m prone to sunburn.
•We’re both blonde, long-lashed and big-lipped.
•Janice is laid back and easygoing with a relaxed disposition. I’m like that. Sometimes.
• In “The Muppets Take Manhattan," Janice said, “Look buddy, I don't take my clothes off for anyone, I don't care if it IS 'artistic'..." In Manhattan, I said, “Look buddy, I take my clothes off for everyone… because it’s 'artistic'..."
A plane leaves O’Hare airport at 11:47 am at 170 miles per hour. At the exact same time, a man in Little Rock, Arkansas buys a pound of ground beef. Coincidence? You make the call.
I’ve always been intrigued by these people, places and things that seem to have some uncanny and accidental connection. Then there are mathematicians named Ludwig that attempt to take away the mystique of a solid coinkidink by spewing out words like probability, index and statistics. Why Ludwig? Why? Can’t we just believe that the universe can inexplicably connect two things in a nonsensical way, shape or form? Explain this Lud-dog.
The Lincoln and John F. Kennedy Connection
• Both presidents were shot in the head, on a Friday.
• Both were seated beside their wives when shot. Neither Mrs. Lincoln nor Mrs. Kennedy was injured. Both wives held the bullet-torn heads of their husbands.
• Lincoln was shot at Ford's Theatre. Kennedy was shot in a Ford product, a Lincoln limousine.
• Booth shot Lincoln at a theatre and was cornered in a warehouse. Oswald shot Kennedy from a warehouse and was cornered in a theatre.
• Lincoln and JFK had four children, two of whom died before becoming a teen.
• Both presidents were elected to the House of Representatives in '46, runners-up for the party's nomination for vice-president in '56 and elected to the presidency in '60.
• The Vice Presidents: Andrew Johnson was born in 1808, and Lyndon Johnson was born in 1908.
• Both Johnsons chose not to run for reelection in '68.
Along with the Lincoln and JFK connection, there is another comparison that has stumped coincidence nonbelievers.
My connection to Janice from the Muppets
This is going to blow your mind.
•Janice is the lead guitar player in the Electric Mayhem on “The Muppet Show.” I took guitar for 5 minutes in college.
•Janice has a very close relationship with the Electric Mayhem's bass player, Floyd Pepper. I went to a bar named Floyd on Saturday.
•We both bear a smidge of resemblance to Janice Joplin.
•She’s orange and I’m prone to sunburn.
•We’re both blonde, long-lashed and big-lipped.
•Janice is laid back and easygoing with a relaxed disposition. I’m like that. Sometimes.
• In “The Muppets Take Manhattan," Janice said, “Look buddy, I don't take my clothes off for anyone, I don't care if it IS 'artistic'..." In Manhattan, I said, “Look buddy, I take my clothes off for everyone… because it’s 'artistic'..."
Monday, March 15, 2010
Day 219 - Don't Say That. Ever – Part Deux
March 15th, 2010
Today we’re going to journey into my second installment of “Don’t Say That. Ever.” On day 207, I wrote, “Sometimes I see words and words strung together (you might know them as phrases, clauses and sentences) that are so gut wretchedly annoying that I'd rather scratch my fingernails on a chalk board while chewing on tin foil. While I'm on fire.”
Well there are more.
I was out the other night and I said something to a quasi friend and her response was “Totes.” I felt two very opposite emotions in response to her response. I felt pride that she agreed with me. That’s awesome. Yet on the flip side of the spectrum, “totes” is one of those catch phrases that I find so irksome that I often find myself (with shoulders cringed) regurgitating my last meal on the offender. Mexican food makes the loudest statement.
Totes does not stand alone in words and phrases that should never be uttered in my vicinity. I do love my blog readers but in the spirit of keeping our relationship safe, cuddly and kosher, I owe it to you, me and Jesus Harold Christ to forewarn you of English language fopas that we can never exchange.
1) The grass is always greener on the other side
- Not when you live in New York City. There is no grass on either side.
2) Some of the best things in life are free.
- Some of the best things cost a lot of money. Like ponies.
3) Strangers are just friends waiting to happen.
- Sometimes strangers are perverts you shouldn’t take candy from.
4) If they carbon dated your face, it would say stupid.
- This one blinds me with science.
5) Peeps
-My mind automatically goes to those marshmallow candies that are bunny shaped and are a “I just took a lot of vitamins" urine shade of yellow.
6) Don’t go there.
-Too late, there has already been gone to.
7) Christ Almighty!
- Just never lands when said by a Jew.
8) Sorry but (fill in the blank)
- This means we didn’t get what we wanted. Unacceptable.
9) Um, can we talk?
- This never can be good unless someone wants to talk about giving us a check. A large check.
10) Kiss my big, black ass.
- Always ineffective when said by a Caucasian. I learned that the hard way.
Today we’re going to journey into my second installment of “Don’t Say That. Ever.” On day 207, I wrote, “Sometimes I see words and words strung together (you might know them as phrases, clauses and sentences) that are so gut wretchedly annoying that I'd rather scratch my fingernails on a chalk board while chewing on tin foil. While I'm on fire.”
Well there are more.
I was out the other night and I said something to a quasi friend and her response was “Totes.” I felt two very opposite emotions in response to her response. I felt pride that she agreed with me. That’s awesome. Yet on the flip side of the spectrum, “totes” is one of those catch phrases that I find so irksome that I often find myself (with shoulders cringed) regurgitating my last meal on the offender. Mexican food makes the loudest statement.
Totes does not stand alone in words and phrases that should never be uttered in my vicinity. I do love my blog readers but in the spirit of keeping our relationship safe, cuddly and kosher, I owe it to you, me and Jesus Harold Christ to forewarn you of English language fopas that we can never exchange.
1) The grass is always greener on the other side
- Not when you live in New York City. There is no grass on either side.
2) Some of the best things in life are free.
- Some of the best things cost a lot of money. Like ponies.
3) Strangers are just friends waiting to happen.
- Sometimes strangers are perverts you shouldn’t take candy from.
4) If they carbon dated your face, it would say stupid.
- This one blinds me with science.
5) Peeps
-My mind automatically goes to those marshmallow candies that are bunny shaped and are a “I just took a lot of vitamins" urine shade of yellow.
6) Don’t go there.
-Too late, there has already been gone to.
7) Christ Almighty!
- Just never lands when said by a Jew.
8) Sorry but (fill in the blank)
- This means we didn’t get what we wanted. Unacceptable.
9) Um, can we talk?
- This never can be good unless someone wants to talk about giving us a check. A large check.
10) Kiss my big, black ass.
- Always ineffective when said by a Caucasian. I learned that the hard way.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Day 218 - “Nnnnnnnn”
March 14th, 2010
I was in the shower(applying a deep moisturizing conditioner )and it occurred to me that a large portion of my readers might not know what I do when I’m not working on this 365 blog entry challenge. I don’t just watch “Law and order.” While eating blocks of cheese.
I want to share my bio with you so we can deepen our relationship and take it to the next level. Create some intimacy perhaps.
“Manhattan based comedian, Jacqueline Kabat, has been involved in all aspects of stand-up comedy, improvisation and sketch writing since 1997. She has studied written for and performed with Second City's Ann Bowen and with Saturday Night Live's Amy Poehler while with the Upright Citizens Brigades. She had the opportunity to work with Sex in the City's Mario Cantone while warming up studio audiences at ABC Studios. Jacqueline currently can be seen MC'ing shows and doing stand-up comedy at popular New York clubs like Gotham Comedy Club, Comix and Caroline’s on Broadway. She performed with New York-based improv troupe, Rash Behaviour, whose sketches have won awards in film festivals and can be seen on the Independent Film Channel. Jacqueline has also written for Time Out New York and was featured in Body and Soul Magazine’s October 2007 issue in an article about the healing power of comedy improvisation. She teaches improv at theaters in Manhattan, Fortune 500 corporations, medical centers and high-end destinations spas around the world. She has MC'd corporate events and has done comedy improv team building workshops with companies such as Bank of America, Procter & Gamble, Southwest Airlines and McGraw Hill. Jacqueline has also worked with guests and clients at MD Anderson Cancer Research Center, the Deepak Chopra Center, Lake Austin Spa & Resort, Cal-a-Vie and the Omega Institute.”
So that's what I do when I’m not typing (too hard) on my Hewlett Packard. The paint from the N key has disappeared which makes typing my favorite word “Nnnnnnnn” rather challenging.
I've been invited to teach at the Omega Institute’s Arts Week from July 11th to 16th in Rhinebeck, New York. http://eomega.org/omega/workshops/142f88fa876a0a79361da617418cefa3/
Feel free to come and participate. We can share a latté. With soy milk.
What I love about these workshops is that it verifies that everyone is an artist. Just, sometimes, we need to be reminded of that. I want to remind you of that. Yes. You.
I was in the shower(applying a deep moisturizing conditioner )and it occurred to me that a large portion of my readers might not know what I do when I’m not working on this 365 blog entry challenge. I don’t just watch “Law and order.” While eating blocks of cheese.
I want to share my bio with you so we can deepen our relationship and take it to the next level. Create some intimacy perhaps.
“Manhattan based comedian, Jacqueline Kabat, has been involved in all aspects of stand-up comedy, improvisation and sketch writing since 1997. She has studied written for and performed with Second City's Ann Bowen and with Saturday Night Live's Amy Poehler while with the Upright Citizens Brigades. She had the opportunity to work with Sex in the City's Mario Cantone while warming up studio audiences at ABC Studios. Jacqueline currently can be seen MC'ing shows and doing stand-up comedy at popular New York clubs like Gotham Comedy Club, Comix and Caroline’s on Broadway. She performed with New York-based improv troupe, Rash Behaviour, whose sketches have won awards in film festivals and can be seen on the Independent Film Channel. Jacqueline has also written for Time Out New York and was featured in Body and Soul Magazine’s October 2007 issue in an article about the healing power of comedy improvisation. She teaches improv at theaters in Manhattan, Fortune 500 corporations, medical centers and high-end destinations spas around the world. She has MC'd corporate events and has done comedy improv team building workshops with companies such as Bank of America, Procter & Gamble, Southwest Airlines and McGraw Hill. Jacqueline has also worked with guests and clients at MD Anderson Cancer Research Center, the Deepak Chopra Center, Lake Austin Spa & Resort, Cal-a-Vie and the Omega Institute.”
So that's what I do when I’m not typing (too hard) on my Hewlett Packard. The paint from the N key has disappeared which makes typing my favorite word “Nnnnnnnn” rather challenging.
I've been invited to teach at the Omega Institute’s Arts Week from July 11th to 16th in Rhinebeck, New York. http://eomega.org/omega/workshops/142f88fa876a0a79361da617418cefa3/
Feel free to come and participate. We can share a latté. With soy milk.
What I love about these workshops is that it verifies that everyone is an artist. Just, sometimes, we need to be reminded of that. I want to remind you of that. Yes. You.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Day 217 - Chuck Norris-exual
March 13th, 2010
My friend admitted to me earlier today that she is polysexual, a person who is attracted to more than one sex or gender but does not wish to identify as bisexual because it implies that there are only two binary genders or sexes. Important note readers: This should not be confused with pansexuality which refers to being attracted to people regardless of their biological sex and gender identity.
There are so many sexualities to choose from these days that claiming to be heterosexual, homosexual or bisexual seems to be the Gary Busey to the Nick Nolte of sexual preferences. It’s like claiming to like the Grateful Dead but only know the song “Truckin’.”
I’m starting to question if my being a run-of-the-mill straight woman is not the norm in these days of testing boundaries. I do feel that sexuality and creativity come from the same source and I recognized that sexual exploration is prevalent (with little to no judgment) in authentic creative circles. In all circles. And isosceles triangles.
Perhaps in the spirit of sexual heightening that could enhance our artistry and life experiences, we should experiment with some preferences of sexualities that are very common. But seldom discussed.
• W-2exual – We desire our accountant. Side note, only the ones who finagle good tax returns.
• Yanniexual – We are most attracted to this pianist, keyboardist and composer. If Yanni were to shave his moustache, our attraction immediately dissipates and we become Tom Selleckexual.
• Galactic Confederacy-exual - We succumb to the sexual prowess of scientologists.
• Water coolerexual - We are only able to fornicate by, near or in a water cooler.
• Jermaine Jacksonexual – We think of making the sweet love to Jermaine Jackson. Naturally we would be transported to new heights of pleasure.
• Ransom notes-exual – We really test our boundaries with this one. While doing it, we would have the capacity to cut out letters from magazines and assemble a ransom note.
• Chuck Norris-exual. Self explanatory. This can get intense. And bad ass.
• The hills are alive-exual – We are only able to reach our pique of desire while the “Sound of Music” soundtrack is playing.
• 3-5 business days-exual – We prefer to have the sex while waiting for a UPS package.
• Dick Cheney shooting his friend while hunting –exual – We are attracted to people in power who make mind boggling mistakes. With no repercussions.
My friend admitted to me earlier today that she is polysexual, a person who is attracted to more than one sex or gender but does not wish to identify as bisexual because it implies that there are only two binary genders or sexes. Important note readers: This should not be confused with pansexuality which refers to being attracted to people regardless of their biological sex and gender identity.
There are so many sexualities to choose from these days that claiming to be heterosexual, homosexual or bisexual seems to be the Gary Busey to the Nick Nolte of sexual preferences. It’s like claiming to like the Grateful Dead but only know the song “Truckin’.”
I’m starting to question if my being a run-of-the-mill straight woman is not the norm in these days of testing boundaries. I do feel that sexuality and creativity come from the same source and I recognized that sexual exploration is prevalent (with little to no judgment) in authentic creative circles. In all circles. And isosceles triangles.
Perhaps in the spirit of sexual heightening that could enhance our artistry and life experiences, we should experiment with some preferences of sexualities that are very common. But seldom discussed.
• W-2exual – We desire our accountant. Side note, only the ones who finagle good tax returns.
• Yanniexual – We are most attracted to this pianist, keyboardist and composer. If Yanni were to shave his moustache, our attraction immediately dissipates and we become Tom Selleckexual.
• Galactic Confederacy-exual - We succumb to the sexual prowess of scientologists.
• Water coolerexual - We are only able to fornicate by, near or in a water cooler.
• Jermaine Jacksonexual – We think of making the sweet love to Jermaine Jackson. Naturally we would be transported to new heights of pleasure.
• Ransom notes-exual – We really test our boundaries with this one. While doing it, we would have the capacity to cut out letters from magazines and assemble a ransom note.
• Chuck Norris-exual. Self explanatory. This can get intense. And bad ass.
• The hills are alive-exual – We are only able to reach our pique of desire while the “Sound of Music” soundtrack is playing.
• 3-5 business days-exual – We prefer to have the sex while waiting for a UPS package.
• Dick Cheney shooting his friend while hunting –exual – We are attracted to people in power who make mind boggling mistakes. With no repercussions.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Day 216 - Bear Jesus. Jazz Hands!
March 12th, 2010
Last night I was out with my friends and we noticed what appeared to be a bear paw imprinted on a bar napkin. It was such an eerily exact replica that we naturally were lead to believe that we were receiving a message from Bear Jesus. We made up a song about our new divine carnivore that we sang with commitment, a catchy tempo and jazz hands.
Aren’t we all a little bit like Bear Jesus?
I assume many people haven’t been graced by a symbol that suggests that Bear Jesus is with us. At all times. Yet there have been many notable accounts of people discovering the image of Christ the savior(not my savior per se..but the shit to many) in the most unforeseen locales:
Here is where JC (or possibly Ron Jeremy) has presented himself:
• An iron
• A Cheeto
• A Sonogram
• A dental X-ray
• A fish stick
• A bruise
• A Kit Kat
• Cheese manicotti
I’ve talked to Jesus’ handlers and these special appearances have really been good for PR. In fact, so much so, that J of Naz’s publicist has scheduled some special divine appearances in 2010:
• A bikini wax
• A fat person’s sweatband
• My blog
• An angry teenager’s acne
• On my line of baby doo rags. For babies. In baby gangs
• A W-2 form
• A craft services cart
• Tofurkey
• A periodic table. Near boron
• A bingo card from an old age home
• Al Roker’s gastric bypass surgery scar
• A parallelogram from a 9th grade geometry class
• Lionel Richie’s gheri curl
• A drunk frat boy’s vomit
• On Oprah. Although hard to see as she and Jesus are interchangeable.
Last night I was out with my friends and we noticed what appeared to be a bear paw imprinted on a bar napkin. It was such an eerily exact replica that we naturally were lead to believe that we were receiving a message from Bear Jesus. We made up a song about our new divine carnivore that we sang with commitment, a catchy tempo and jazz hands.
Aren’t we all a little bit like Bear Jesus?
I assume many people haven’t been graced by a symbol that suggests that Bear Jesus is with us. At all times. Yet there have been many notable accounts of people discovering the image of Christ the savior(not my savior per se..but the shit to many) in the most unforeseen locales:
Here is where JC (or possibly Ron Jeremy) has presented himself:
• An iron
• A Cheeto
• A Sonogram
• A dental X-ray
• A fish stick
• A bruise
• A Kit Kat
• Cheese manicotti
I’ve talked to Jesus’ handlers and these special appearances have really been good for PR. In fact, so much so, that J of Naz’s publicist has scheduled some special divine appearances in 2010:
• A bikini wax
• A fat person’s sweatband
• My blog
• An angry teenager’s acne
• On my line of baby doo rags. For babies. In baby gangs
• A W-2 form
• A craft services cart
• Tofurkey
• A periodic table. Near boron
• A bingo card from an old age home
• Al Roker’s gastric bypass surgery scar
• A parallelogram from a 9th grade geometry class
• Lionel Richie’s gheri curl
• A drunk frat boy’s vomit
• On Oprah. Although hard to see as she and Jesus are interchangeable.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Day 215 - Minus a Corey
March 11th, 2010
We lost another one ya’ll. Corey Haim has crossed over to join the other child actors who have died prematurely. Sadly, it’s not surprising. I would imagine that these tortured souls struggled to settle down in adulthood because they find it’s improbable that they’ll repeat the successes of their youth. Not only do their appearances change for the worse, but it could also turn out that they’re just not great actors.
The real tragedy in losing Haim lies with the sad reality that Corey Feldman is now left to fly solo in this once intertwined duo that earned the name (and reality show) “The Two Coreys.” These two guys were so interchangeable that I’m still not sure which one was molested by Michael Jackson. Same goes for being perplexed about which Olsen twin killed Heath Ledger.
Lifelong friends and frequent costars, Corey 1 and Corey 2 graced us with their zany driven teenage shenanigans in the “The Lost Boys,” “License to Drive” and “Dream a Little Dream.” Say goodbye to anymore a notch below mediocre sequels. One exception. I put a call into "Sunglasses at Night" Corey Hart about being Feldman’s new comrade. Fingers crossed.
I’m not trying to minimize the heartbreaking tragedy of these child stars that fall deep into substance abuse that too often leads to their demise. My issue lies with people who seem surprised with this all too familiar and frequent downward spirals. Kiddie celebs are train wrecks waiting to happen. Even as I’m watching these adorable child stars in the motion pictures, I feel the impending struggle of their later years. It’s not natural to find fame and fortune before you're potty trained.
Did we really want to see the kid from Jerry Maguire grow up? No, no we didn’t. And as far as Feldman, he’ll be fine. If anything, the loss of Haim will fuel his career. For 15 minutes.
Stay Strong Dakota Fanning
We lost another one ya’ll. Corey Haim has crossed over to join the other child actors who have died prematurely. Sadly, it’s not surprising. I would imagine that these tortured souls struggled to settle down in adulthood because they find it’s improbable that they’ll repeat the successes of their youth. Not only do their appearances change for the worse, but it could also turn out that they’re just not great actors.
The real tragedy in losing Haim lies with the sad reality that Corey Feldman is now left to fly solo in this once intertwined duo that earned the name (and reality show) “The Two Coreys.” These two guys were so interchangeable that I’m still not sure which one was molested by Michael Jackson. Same goes for being perplexed about which Olsen twin killed Heath Ledger.
Lifelong friends and frequent costars, Corey 1 and Corey 2 graced us with their zany driven teenage shenanigans in the “The Lost Boys,” “License to Drive” and “Dream a Little Dream.” Say goodbye to anymore a notch below mediocre sequels. One exception. I put a call into "Sunglasses at Night" Corey Hart about being Feldman’s new comrade. Fingers crossed.
I’m not trying to minimize the heartbreaking tragedy of these child stars that fall deep into substance abuse that too often leads to their demise. My issue lies with people who seem surprised with this all too familiar and frequent downward spirals. Kiddie celebs are train wrecks waiting to happen. Even as I’m watching these adorable child stars in the motion pictures, I feel the impending struggle of their later years. It’s not natural to find fame and fortune before you're potty trained.
Did we really want to see the kid from Jerry Maguire grow up? No, no we didn’t. And as far as Feldman, he’ll be fine. If anything, the loss of Haim will fuel his career. For 15 minutes.
Stay Strong Dakota Fanning
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Day 214 - Cry. Like a Baby. That is Little
March 10, 2010
I was taking a walk earlier on one of those New York days when the weather is so uncharacteristically beautiful that all my friends who transplanted themselves to Los Angeles would consider coming back east. Yet, they are wise enough to know that a nice day in March is undoubtedly short lived. That’s why they fled to begin with. I assume we’ll have some record blizzard in the next few days and we’ll be left with our arms crossed and head shaking while saying, “Oh weather, you’re incorrigible.”
I decided to step into Starbucks for an overpriced caffeinated beverage. Why make it at home when I can spend too much money? I generally like to put soy milk in my coffee and Starbucks only allows you to use it from the bar. It doesn't sit out with the other dairy creamers. This is a shame because there is nothing I’d like to do more than take advantage of an endless supply of soy milk and pour it all over my body as I entice my senses in erotic soy goodness. I imagine a “Whitesnake” song would be playing.
As I was waiting for the soy, the KD Lang cover of Neil Young's "Helpless" was playing. I found it to be so gut wretchedly raw and beautiful. I noticed that I wasn’t the only one who was having a powerful reaction. A baby stopped crying, the baristas gave each other loving glances and I noticed an older woman started crying. She was with a gentleman and seemed to be embarrassed by her unexpected release of authentic emotion.
She shouldn’t have been ashamed. It was so real.
I’m still coming off the high of this huge family reunion that celebrated my grandmother’s 90th birthday. It was such a joyous occasion that most of my family found themselves slipping into that laugh/cry combo as we were coming to terms with how grateful we were to have such a pivotal experience that solidified our tight bond.
I feel pretty confident that laughing and crying come from the same source and should be treated and respected on equal footing. They both provide an honest release and according to Aristotle , a good cry “cleanses the mind.”
I’m no “tear specialist"...and I’m not going to pretend that I am… but They say that there are several reasons why crying is good for us. I’ve said it many times...and I’ll say it again, never, under any circumstances, question the wisdom of They. They are the shit.
1. Tears Kill Bacteria
Tears fight off germs in the fecal matter pretzel bowl at our favorite dive bar.
2. Tears Remove Toxins
Biochemists are saying that emotional tears contain toxic byproducts. I made a biochemist cry once. That wasn’t my best day.
3. Crying Can Elevate Mood
Crying is supposed to lower our manganese level which is a cause of anxiety, nervousness and irritability. I’m not really sure what manganese is exactly. But I’d like to learn the language.
4. Tears Build Community
An exchange of tears can be quite intimate. Such a connection can foster community. Volunteering helps build community too...but the crying group is sure to have more interesting people. And better food.
5. Tears Release Feelings
In his book "Home Coming,” John Bradshaw writes “All these feelings need to be felt. We need to stomp and storm; to sob and cry; to perspire and tremble." John Bradshaw. Big crier. Get a hold of yourself Bradshaw. Come on.
I was taking a walk earlier on one of those New York days when the weather is so uncharacteristically beautiful that all my friends who transplanted themselves to Los Angeles would consider coming back east. Yet, they are wise enough to know that a nice day in March is undoubtedly short lived. That’s why they fled to begin with. I assume we’ll have some record blizzard in the next few days and we’ll be left with our arms crossed and head shaking while saying, “Oh weather, you’re incorrigible.”
I decided to step into Starbucks for an overpriced caffeinated beverage. Why make it at home when I can spend too much money? I generally like to put soy milk in my coffee and Starbucks only allows you to use it from the bar. It doesn't sit out with the other dairy creamers. This is a shame because there is nothing I’d like to do more than take advantage of an endless supply of soy milk and pour it all over my body as I entice my senses in erotic soy goodness. I imagine a “Whitesnake” song would be playing.
As I was waiting for the soy, the KD Lang cover of Neil Young's "Helpless" was playing. I found it to be so gut wretchedly raw and beautiful. I noticed that I wasn’t the only one who was having a powerful reaction. A baby stopped crying, the baristas gave each other loving glances and I noticed an older woman started crying. She was with a gentleman and seemed to be embarrassed by her unexpected release of authentic emotion.
She shouldn’t have been ashamed. It was so real.
I’m still coming off the high of this huge family reunion that celebrated my grandmother’s 90th birthday. It was such a joyous occasion that most of my family found themselves slipping into that laugh/cry combo as we were coming to terms with how grateful we were to have such a pivotal experience that solidified our tight bond.
I feel pretty confident that laughing and crying come from the same source and should be treated and respected on equal footing. They both provide an honest release and according to Aristotle , a good cry “cleanses the mind.”
I’m no “tear specialist"...and I’m not going to pretend that I am… but They say that there are several reasons why crying is good for us. I’ve said it many times...and I’ll say it again, never, under any circumstances, question the wisdom of They. They are the shit.
1. Tears Kill Bacteria
Tears fight off germs in the fecal matter pretzel bowl at our favorite dive bar.
2. Tears Remove Toxins
Biochemists are saying that emotional tears contain toxic byproducts. I made a biochemist cry once. That wasn’t my best day.
3. Crying Can Elevate Mood
Crying is supposed to lower our manganese level which is a cause of anxiety, nervousness and irritability. I’m not really sure what manganese is exactly. But I’d like to learn the language.
4. Tears Build Community
An exchange of tears can be quite intimate. Such a connection can foster community. Volunteering helps build community too...but the crying group is sure to have more interesting people. And better food.
5. Tears Release Feelings
In his book "Home Coming,” John Bradshaw writes “All these feelings need to be felt. We need to stomp and storm; to sob and cry; to perspire and tremble." John Bradshaw. Big crier. Get a hold of yourself Bradshaw. Come on.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Day 213 - Taste Your Lips of Wine
March 9th, 2010
I was riding in the car with my father and stepmother and the song “Mickey” by one hit wonder Toni Basil came on the radio. There was something about this 1982 hit that resonates deep inside me and has always been a reliable catalyst for a feeling of peppiness.
As a reminder, the familiar chorus was as follows:
Oh, Mickey, what a pity
You don't understand
You take me by the heart
When you take me by the hand
Oh, Mickey, you're so pretty
Can't you understand
It's guys like you, Mickey
Oh, what you do, Mickey, do, Mickey
Don't break my heart, Mickey
I'd also like to visit some of the lyrics that concern me:
'Cause when you say you will
It always means you won't
You're givin' me the chills, baby
Please, baby don't
Every night you still leave me alone, Mickey
And
So come on and give it to me anyway you can
Anyway you want to do it
I'll take it like a man
Oh, please baby, please
Don't leave me in the damn, Mickey
OK. This song came out when I was seven years old. When MTV was still showing videos. I recall Ms. Basil jumping around in a bad ass cheerleader outfit. This image is candy for little girls. Now as I review this song it seems as if our singer/songwriter is rather desperate (with a touch of promiscuity) and Mickey is kind of a douche. But I won’t quit this song because it’s forever cemented in my nostalgic genetic wiring and it’s “what you do, Mickey, do, Mickey Don't break my heart, Mickey.”
I asked my parents what song from their younger days ignites some warm feeling of those innocent times of long ago. Without hesitation, they simultaneously reply, “All I Have To Do Is Dream” by the Everly brothers. Then they started singing it. Off key. Bless their hearts.
I have a few thoughts on this one as well.
The familiar chorus:
Drea-ea-ea-ea-eam, dream, dream, dream
Drea-ea-ea-ea-eam, dream, dream, dream
When I want you in my arms
When I want you and all your charms
Whenever I want you, all I have to do is
Drea-ea-ea-ea-eam, dream, dream, dream
And
I can make you mine, taste your lips of wine
Anytime night or day
Only trouble is, gee whiz
I'm dreamin' my life away
This 1968 billboard favorite made “Rolling Stone” magazine's list of “The 500 Greatest Songs of All Time.” Pretty impressive considering the brothers Everly seem to be yearning for a special lady that they only can connect with in their dreams. Also, the line, “taste your lips of wine, " implies that our woman of interest is clearly a raging alcoholic. Red flag.
It seems as if catchy beats and likable performers can make people feel alive and fall in love despite lyrics that flat out explain why they aren’t in the arms of their beloved.
I want to step up to the plate and send a message to the children of the world. I am in the process of writing a gritty and honest love song that(years from now) will undoubtedly provoke a wistful desire to return in thought to a former time in your life.
It simply involves reversing the attributes that inspired Toni Basil and the Everly Brothers to sing about their heartache. It’s called “You became my One True Love When You Stopped Being Promiscuous, Douchey, an alcoholic and Delusional.”
I smell Grammy.
I was riding in the car with my father and stepmother and the song “Mickey” by one hit wonder Toni Basil came on the radio. There was something about this 1982 hit that resonates deep inside me and has always been a reliable catalyst for a feeling of peppiness.
As a reminder, the familiar chorus was as follows:
Oh, Mickey, what a pity
You don't understand
You take me by the heart
When you take me by the hand
Oh, Mickey, you're so pretty
Can't you understand
It's guys like you, Mickey
Oh, what you do, Mickey, do, Mickey
Don't break my heart, Mickey
I'd also like to visit some of the lyrics that concern me:
'Cause when you say you will
It always means you won't
You're givin' me the chills, baby
Please, baby don't
Every night you still leave me alone, Mickey
And
So come on and give it to me anyway you can
Anyway you want to do it
I'll take it like a man
Oh, please baby, please
Don't leave me in the damn, Mickey
OK. This song came out when I was seven years old. When MTV was still showing videos. I recall Ms. Basil jumping around in a bad ass cheerleader outfit. This image is candy for little girls. Now as I review this song it seems as if our singer/songwriter is rather desperate (with a touch of promiscuity) and Mickey is kind of a douche. But I won’t quit this song because it’s forever cemented in my nostalgic genetic wiring and it’s “what you do, Mickey, do, Mickey Don't break my heart, Mickey.”
I asked my parents what song from their younger days ignites some warm feeling of those innocent times of long ago. Without hesitation, they simultaneously reply, “All I Have To Do Is Dream” by the Everly brothers. Then they started singing it. Off key. Bless their hearts.
I have a few thoughts on this one as well.
The familiar chorus:
Drea-ea-ea-ea-eam, dream, dream, dream
Drea-ea-ea-ea-eam, dream, dream, dream
When I want you in my arms
When I want you and all your charms
Whenever I want you, all I have to do is
Drea-ea-ea-ea-eam, dream, dream, dream
And
I can make you mine, taste your lips of wine
Anytime night or day
Only trouble is, gee whiz
I'm dreamin' my life away
This 1968 billboard favorite made “Rolling Stone” magazine's list of “The 500 Greatest Songs of All Time.” Pretty impressive considering the brothers Everly seem to be yearning for a special lady that they only can connect with in their dreams. Also, the line, “taste your lips of wine, " implies that our woman of interest is clearly a raging alcoholic. Red flag.
It seems as if catchy beats and likable performers can make people feel alive and fall in love despite lyrics that flat out explain why they aren’t in the arms of their beloved.
I want to step up to the plate and send a message to the children of the world. I am in the process of writing a gritty and honest love song that(years from now) will undoubtedly provoke a wistful desire to return in thought to a former time in your life.
It simply involves reversing the attributes that inspired Toni Basil and the Everly Brothers to sing about their heartache. It’s called “You became my One True Love When You Stopped Being Promiscuous, Douchey, an alcoholic and Delusional.”
I smell Grammy.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Day 212 - Stop! Drop! Roll! Jazz hands!
March 8th, 2010
First let me say this: I am a proud member of the Facebook group "Not Being on Fire."
Steam just came out of my computer cord so I'm thinking of contacting the members of my beloved Facebook club for some solace. They warmed up to me quickly after I wrote a catchy "Not Being on Fire" mantra for members to recite every morning in front of their mirror. While holding a hose . "Stop! Drop! Roll! Jazz hands! Stop! Drop! Roll! Jazz hands! etc..."
I'm currently using a friend's computer to write this entry because my Hewlett Packard laptop(his name is Esteban) can't be recharged until I meander over to J&R Electronics tomorrow. In the meantime, this leaves us in a vulnerable position and I hope you're OK with that. if not. Come here you. Let me hold you. Yes, I know this is challenging because my laptop has been our very capable second in command since the birth of my blog. We'll get through this. Together. As a virtual family.
The best thing we can do now is share our favorite Esteban the laptop stories. I'll start. Esteban is a real pistol.
Let's revisit what my computer told me on "Day 55 - Inanimate Object Whisperer."
He had 3 messages for me. “Don’t type on me so hard. I’m fragile. Like a delicate flower. Secondly, you really need to get Norton AntiVirus. Seriously Jax, don’t be an imbecile." Finally, Esteban said that I must act as a conduit for objects that lack the quality of being alive.
I owed it to myself, to my laptop and to inquiring minds to go upon this journey. Immediately, I started hearing the voices. It was as if I just needed permission to enter the inanimate world Interesting note, my boobs were the first to reach out to me. They introduced themselves as Mommy 1 and Mommy 2. Both of them really laid into me. “Please, enough with those Victoria Secret Bras. Sure, they have a certain allure..but their lasting power is for shit.” Also, show us off more..we need to breath. It’s getting colder and you’re going to start hiding us behind Performance Fleece. He’s a dick.”
I grabbed a bottle of Evian water and went upon my purposeful research. Immediately, the plastic bottle spoke to me. “ Jax, keep drinking my overpriced goodness but this whole ‘I’m from the natural spring’s of Lake Geneva' is bullshit. I was bottled from a toilet at a Shell Gas station off Highway 46 near Denville, New Jersey." Sadly, that revelation made me vomit for the majority of the day. This project was intense and I needed to baby step my way into my calling.
After I had ejected all contents from my stomach from the past year, I decided it would be most logical to hit a sports themed Mexican bar. The voices ran rampant. There seemed to be a lot of jealousies and rivalries among things without heartbeats. The mild salsa felt inferior to the hot salsa, the 150 watt light bulb constantly condescended the 75 watt and the well liquor compared their segregation from the top shelf spirits to America’s race relations in the early 60’s.
Wheel of Fortune was on TV and all of a sudden 14 letters from the alphabet started a rumble with the 12 most common letters: E, T, A, O, I, N, S, H, R, D, L and U. The slighted letters finally backed off, told Pat and Vanna their lack of use was a breach of contract and left in a huff to join Dave Chappelle in South Africa.
I had suffered angry inanimate object overload and needed to end my day’s work and returned home to Esteban(who I’m beginning to think might have questionable connections to the Spanish mafia.) Regardless, He was really proud of me and said that if he had a hand he would pat me on the back . My vocal computer had one final message that he needed me to pass along to all Apple Computers. “I’ve been talking with all the PC’s and we have some issues with you holier than thou Apples.” I told him that I would be happy to relay his message as I see most of them at my local coffee shop down the street. “Please let the motherfuckers know that we are sick of their self righteous, user friendly ways and awesome, dare I say kick ass, graphics. Also, please give the Power Macintosh G3 my number because she’s smokin’ hot.”
First let me say this: I am a proud member of the Facebook group "Not Being on Fire."
Steam just came out of my computer cord so I'm thinking of contacting the members of my beloved Facebook club for some solace. They warmed up to me quickly after I wrote a catchy "Not Being on Fire" mantra for members to recite every morning in front of their mirror. While holding a hose . "Stop! Drop! Roll! Jazz hands! Stop! Drop! Roll! Jazz hands! etc..."
I'm currently using a friend's computer to write this entry because my Hewlett Packard laptop(his name is Esteban) can't be recharged until I meander over to J&R Electronics tomorrow. In the meantime, this leaves us in a vulnerable position and I hope you're OK with that. if not. Come here you. Let me hold you. Yes, I know this is challenging because my laptop has been our very capable second in command since the birth of my blog. We'll get through this. Together. As a virtual family.
The best thing we can do now is share our favorite Esteban the laptop stories. I'll start. Esteban is a real pistol.
Let's revisit what my computer told me on "Day 55 - Inanimate Object Whisperer."
He had 3 messages for me. “Don’t type on me so hard. I’m fragile. Like a delicate flower. Secondly, you really need to get Norton AntiVirus. Seriously Jax, don’t be an imbecile." Finally, Esteban said that I must act as a conduit for objects that lack the quality of being alive.
I owed it to myself, to my laptop and to inquiring minds to go upon this journey. Immediately, I started hearing the voices. It was as if I just needed permission to enter the inanimate world Interesting note, my boobs were the first to reach out to me. They introduced themselves as Mommy 1 and Mommy 2. Both of them really laid into me. “Please, enough with those Victoria Secret Bras. Sure, they have a certain allure..but their lasting power is for shit.” Also, show us off more..we need to breath. It’s getting colder and you’re going to start hiding us behind Performance Fleece. He’s a dick.”
I grabbed a bottle of Evian water and went upon my purposeful research. Immediately, the plastic bottle spoke to me. “ Jax, keep drinking my overpriced goodness but this whole ‘I’m from the natural spring’s of Lake Geneva' is bullshit. I was bottled from a toilet at a Shell Gas station off Highway 46 near Denville, New Jersey." Sadly, that revelation made me vomit for the majority of the day. This project was intense and I needed to baby step my way into my calling.
After I had ejected all contents from my stomach from the past year, I decided it would be most logical to hit a sports themed Mexican bar. The voices ran rampant. There seemed to be a lot of jealousies and rivalries among things without heartbeats. The mild salsa felt inferior to the hot salsa, the 150 watt light bulb constantly condescended the 75 watt and the well liquor compared their segregation from the top shelf spirits to America’s race relations in the early 60’s.
Wheel of Fortune was on TV and all of a sudden 14 letters from the alphabet started a rumble with the 12 most common letters: E, T, A, O, I, N, S, H, R, D, L and U. The slighted letters finally backed off, told Pat and Vanna their lack of use was a breach of contract and left in a huff to join Dave Chappelle in South Africa.
I had suffered angry inanimate object overload and needed to end my day’s work and returned home to Esteban(who I’m beginning to think might have questionable connections to the Spanish mafia.) Regardless, He was really proud of me and said that if he had a hand he would pat me on the back . My vocal computer had one final message that he needed me to pass along to all Apple Computers. “I’ve been talking with all the PC’s and we have some issues with you holier than thou Apples.” I told him that I would be happy to relay his message as I see most of them at my local coffee shop down the street. “Please let the motherfuckers know that we are sick of their self righteous, user friendly ways and awesome, dare I say kick ass, graphics. Also, please give the Power Macintosh G3 my number because she’s smokin’ hot.”
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Day 211- Full Stomach. Full Heart
March 7th, 2010
My cousin Elaine’s husband Brad summed my grandmother up with precision. “She keeps the light on for everyone.” This sentiment rings true on a few levels. My grandfather had suspicions that she was having a love affair with the Duke Power guy because she literally has never been a fan of turning off lights. But the true intention of Brad’s description makes perfect sense as Grandma Harriet is and has always been “there” when her love ones are having challenging times. And happy times. Why? Because that’s what family does.
Over the weekend, 35 relatives gathered in Charlotte, North Carolina for my Grandma Harriet’s 90th birthday celebration. She has devoted her life to maintaining a joie de vivre and making every member of her family feel special. The most special.
Over the last few days, four generations just “hung out” eating the 60 Omaha Steaks grandma bought, drinking from Elaine and Brad’s bar in their basement (equipped with beer taps, a mahogany bar and guy relatives fulfilling their bartending dreams.) The performer in me surfaced when I directed three little girls in princess dresses to dance to “Vogue” and “Faith” for a captive audience.There was tushie shaking. And well received.
We participated in a formal tribute for grandma last night and we all shared funny stories, sentimental memories and even video footage of her cousin’s wedding at her house in 1954. It felt very “Madmen.” It was happiness. It was real. It was an overwhelming reminder that we have had so many good days. And Grandma Harriet has always been a benchmark for those times when your heart feels the fullest.
As the weekend was nearing an end, everyone was still laughing. And crying. The good kind of tears. There was a collective understanding that this was a pivotal weekend that gave us the opportunity to cheer on the matriarch who has always been our constant cheerleader.
Not only are my friends the family that I would pick. My family is the family I would pick.
My cousin Elaine’s husband Brad summed my grandmother up with precision. “She keeps the light on for everyone.” This sentiment rings true on a few levels. My grandfather had suspicions that she was having a love affair with the Duke Power guy because she literally has never been a fan of turning off lights. But the true intention of Brad’s description makes perfect sense as Grandma Harriet is and has always been “there” when her love ones are having challenging times. And happy times. Why? Because that’s what family does.
Over the weekend, 35 relatives gathered in Charlotte, North Carolina for my Grandma Harriet’s 90th birthday celebration. She has devoted her life to maintaining a joie de vivre and making every member of her family feel special. The most special.
Over the last few days, four generations just “hung out” eating the 60 Omaha Steaks grandma bought, drinking from Elaine and Brad’s bar in their basement (equipped with beer taps, a mahogany bar and guy relatives fulfilling their bartending dreams.) The performer in me surfaced when I directed three little girls in princess dresses to dance to “Vogue” and “Faith” for a captive audience.There was tushie shaking. And well received.
We participated in a formal tribute for grandma last night and we all shared funny stories, sentimental memories and even video footage of her cousin’s wedding at her house in 1954. It felt very “Madmen.” It was happiness. It was real. It was an overwhelming reminder that we have had so many good days. And Grandma Harriet has always been a benchmark for those times when your heart feels the fullest.
As the weekend was nearing an end, everyone was still laughing. And crying. The good kind of tears. There was a collective understanding that this was a pivotal weekend that gave us the opportunity to cheer on the matriarch who has always been our constant cheerleader.
Not only are my friends the family that I would pick. My family is the family I would pick.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Day 210 - Nonchalant Observer -Installment #6– Grandma Harriet’s 90th Birthday
March 6th, 2010
Today is my sixth installment of my “Nonchalant Observer” series. On day 22, I observed (judged) what crossed my path as I sat with my coffee on my Brooklyn stoop. On day 38, I took you with me to the happenings of beach life in the surfing town of Hermosa Beach, California. On day 112, we crossed the age gap and hit a retirement community. During happy hour. You came with me to my father and stepmother’s house for brunch in Westchester, New York on day 141 and you joined me as I was being shot in a piece for Current TV on day 205. Today you will be part of my Grandma Harriet’s 90th birthday celebration in Charlotte, North Carolina.
She isn’t your average grandma. She is a powerful, giving and always sings the praises of her family. Even when we don’t behave that well. She is a true matriarch. In every sense of the word. The fact that 35 relatives traveled across the country to celebrate all that is Harriet Kabat speaks volumes about how her impact, kindness and spirit has touched so many lives. There was no “dutiful” obligation to come to this event. We’ve all been looking forward to this because we are well aware that when there are Kabats in bulk...there will be depth, laughter and open hearts.
I made detailed notes of this celebratory gathering on this Saturday March 6th, 2010
The following is presented in “real” time:
8:17 – I wake up and four generations of Kabat women are in the living room cuddling and drinking coffee. This is a ritual that I’ve been accustomed to my entire life. Elaine’s husband Brad is making Challah French toast. Or as Aunt Roberta calls it, “Jew toast.” Brad is such a capable husband and father that no word can justify his awesomeness. So he is just affectionately referred to as “That Brad.”
10:11 – Some of the girls go for a walk. Every house seems to have two dogs of the same breed barking at us. Like Noah’s Ark. With an electric fence. We pass the Sheep dog home and the dachshund house.
11:36 – Aunt Ruthie and I make Grandma a prophet by putting a Snuggie on her, a paper plate halo behind her head and give her a doll to hold. She's looks Divine.
12:47 – We have a family portrait at 2:00 so Aunt Ruthie straightens my hair. I need a strapless bra. Luckily all the Kabat women have boobage so I borrow a bra from cousin Leah.
1:42 – I put on a puppet show musical for the kids (and adults) of “One Day More” from Les Misérables. Well received.
2:37 – The professional photographer, Wayne, comes and takes a paella of family portraits. He eats grass to get the little children’s attention. Wayne is hardcore.
3:38 – Major hanging out. Little girls in princess dresses, people are in the kitchen working on dinner and grandma is sitting on a thrown like ornate chair as people keep circulating to visit. She looks so happy and says, “Grandpa is looking down and watching every move.”
5:00 – This is the time of day that Kabats collectively feel that it’s OK to start drinking without being labeled alcoholics. Tonight we will all be sharing "best of" grandma stories in a "roast" of sorts. More on that tomorrow. Namaste.
Today is my sixth installment of my “Nonchalant Observer” series. On day 22, I observed (judged) what crossed my path as I sat with my coffee on my Brooklyn stoop. On day 38, I took you with me to the happenings of beach life in the surfing town of Hermosa Beach, California. On day 112, we crossed the age gap and hit a retirement community. During happy hour. You came with me to my father and stepmother’s house for brunch in Westchester, New York on day 141 and you joined me as I was being shot in a piece for Current TV on day 205. Today you will be part of my Grandma Harriet’s 90th birthday celebration in Charlotte, North Carolina.
She isn’t your average grandma. She is a powerful, giving and always sings the praises of her family. Even when we don’t behave that well. She is a true matriarch. In every sense of the word. The fact that 35 relatives traveled across the country to celebrate all that is Harriet Kabat speaks volumes about how her impact, kindness and spirit has touched so many lives. There was no “dutiful” obligation to come to this event. We’ve all been looking forward to this because we are well aware that when there are Kabats in bulk...there will be depth, laughter and open hearts.
I made detailed notes of this celebratory gathering on this Saturday March 6th, 2010
The following is presented in “real” time:
8:17 – I wake up and four generations of Kabat women are in the living room cuddling and drinking coffee. This is a ritual that I’ve been accustomed to my entire life. Elaine’s husband Brad is making Challah French toast. Or as Aunt Roberta calls it, “Jew toast.” Brad is such a capable husband and father that no word can justify his awesomeness. So he is just affectionately referred to as “That Brad.”
10:11 – Some of the girls go for a walk. Every house seems to have two dogs of the same breed barking at us. Like Noah’s Ark. With an electric fence. We pass the Sheep dog home and the dachshund house.
11:36 – Aunt Ruthie and I make Grandma a prophet by putting a Snuggie on her, a paper plate halo behind her head and give her a doll to hold. She's looks Divine.
12:47 – We have a family portrait at 2:00 so Aunt Ruthie straightens my hair. I need a strapless bra. Luckily all the Kabat women have boobage so I borrow a bra from cousin Leah.
1:42 – I put on a puppet show musical for the kids (and adults) of “One Day More” from Les Misérables. Well received.
2:37 – The professional photographer, Wayne, comes and takes a paella of family portraits. He eats grass to get the little children’s attention. Wayne is hardcore.
3:38 – Major hanging out. Little girls in princess dresses, people are in the kitchen working on dinner and grandma is sitting on a thrown like ornate chair as people keep circulating to visit. She looks so happy and says, “Grandpa is looking down and watching every move.”
5:00 – This is the time of day that Kabats collectively feel that it’s OK to start drinking without being labeled alcoholics. Tonight we will all be sharing "best of" grandma stories in a "roast" of sorts. More on that tomorrow. Namaste.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Day 209 - Bubby. We've Got Answers
March 5th, 2010
This is the calm before the storm. The good kind of storm. I’m in Charlotte, North Carolina sitting in my cousin Elaine’s basement waiting for 35 relatives to trickle in for the next 24 hours to celebrate Grandma Harriet’s 90th birthday. Big plans? We’re gonna just hang out. We had a family reunion last year and we know that The Kabat Klan is very capable of just entertaining ourselves. We don’t need weddings, Bar Mitzvahs or mechanical bulls. We’re equipped with a lotta colorful characters. A lotta food. A lotta laughs. Always. The plan is to have a celebratory “roast” for our family’s matriarch tomorrow night that I am “Mc’ing.:
Having arrived on the early end of the weekend, I was fortunate to have the time to sit with grandma and my cousin Elaine’s two angelic children (Lila is almost four and Joanna is seven) for an interview. As you know, I like to do it Barbara Walters style in fuzzy lighting with an oversize plant hitting my face. I inquire within. Asking the pressing questions. That you want to know.
PART 1 – Interview with Grandma Harriet
Jax - You had an accident a few years ago that resulted with a “dead pinkie”…tell us about that day?
Grandma Harriet – That’s true. I was having a mah Jong game and my ladies were coming for lunch. I was making a very lovely lunch of stuffed tomatoes with tuna salad. And then I was making iced tea… the pitcher dropped, broke and cut my finger. I wrapped it in a sanitary napkin and continued to fix my lunch for my ladies. They suggested that I call the doctor. But first I played Ma Jong because there was money involved. I left for the hospital in the middle of the game. My pinkie needed surgery and it’s never been the same since.
Jax - Have you ever repeated any stories?
Grandma Harriet – Oh noooooo…
Jax- Have you ever repeated any stories?
Grandma Harriet – I said oh nooo…
Jax- -When did you know that you were in love with grandpa?
Grandma Harriet: The moment I met him. He worked at a firm in Patterson, NJ which is where I grew up. He knew the same people that I knew. And we were married seven months later.
Jax: Who is your favorite child /grandchild /great grandchild?
Grandma Harriet: I have no favorite.
Jax - You tell long stories. Do you feel it’s important to treat it like an endurance sport and hydrate in between?
Grandma Harriet – (laughing) I just like to talk.
Jax - Have you ever repeated stories?
Grandma Harriet - Never. Just ask anyone
Jax– If anything happens in life that is hard..how do you deal with it?
Grandma Harriet–Deal with it
Jax – Any regrets in your life? (My dad is sitting next to her and says, “Ask me?”) I ask him and he says “Yes!”
Grandma Harriet – None. No regrets.
Jax- You ran bingo for years at your independent living. What was the biggest scandal?
Grandma Harriet – People were talking too loud at the wrong times so I yelled, “Be quiet!”
Jax– Any word of advice for your family?
Grandma Harriet– Just be happy with each other. Nothing makes me happier than the fact that you are all very close. I want it to stay that way. Or else you’ll hear from me. I’m the luckiest lady at this point in anyone’s life. I have more than anyone. I have all my children, grandchildren and great children. Everyone around me is very special. Each and every one has their little way. And they make me feel special.
PART 2 – Interview with Lila and Joanna about grandma (otherwise known as Bubby in great grandchildren circles.)
Jax - What do you want to tell Bubby?
Joanna – I’ve lost seven teeth now
Lila - I love her
Jax - Do you like cuddling with Bubby in her bed?
Lila & Joanna - Yes. Because she’s cuddly.
Jax – What’s your favorite gift from Bubby?
Joanna – The money. For my first tooth
Lila –A baby the doll
Jax - What’s the doll’s name?
Lila - Baby Harriet
Jax – What do you like best about Bubby?
Lila – She is funny
Joanna – She is very funny and makes me laugh a lot. When I think of Bubby I think of her kindness.
This is the calm before the storm. The good kind of storm. I’m in Charlotte, North Carolina sitting in my cousin Elaine’s basement waiting for 35 relatives to trickle in for the next 24 hours to celebrate Grandma Harriet’s 90th birthday. Big plans? We’re gonna just hang out. We had a family reunion last year and we know that The Kabat Klan is very capable of just entertaining ourselves. We don’t need weddings, Bar Mitzvahs or mechanical bulls. We’re equipped with a lotta colorful characters. A lotta food. A lotta laughs. Always. The plan is to have a celebratory “roast” for our family’s matriarch tomorrow night that I am “Mc’ing.:
Having arrived on the early end of the weekend, I was fortunate to have the time to sit with grandma and my cousin Elaine’s two angelic children (Lila is almost four and Joanna is seven) for an interview. As you know, I like to do it Barbara Walters style in fuzzy lighting with an oversize plant hitting my face. I inquire within. Asking the pressing questions. That you want to know.
PART 1 – Interview with Grandma Harriet
Jax - You had an accident a few years ago that resulted with a “dead pinkie”…tell us about that day?
Grandma Harriet – That’s true. I was having a mah Jong game and my ladies were coming for lunch. I was making a very lovely lunch of stuffed tomatoes with tuna salad. And then I was making iced tea… the pitcher dropped, broke and cut my finger. I wrapped it in a sanitary napkin and continued to fix my lunch for my ladies. They suggested that I call the doctor. But first I played Ma Jong because there was money involved. I left for the hospital in the middle of the game. My pinkie needed surgery and it’s never been the same since.
Jax - Have you ever repeated any stories?
Grandma Harriet – Oh noooooo…
Jax- Have you ever repeated any stories?
Grandma Harriet – I said oh nooo…
Jax- -When did you know that you were in love with grandpa?
Grandma Harriet: The moment I met him. He worked at a firm in Patterson, NJ which is where I grew up. He knew the same people that I knew. And we were married seven months later.
Jax: Who is your favorite child /grandchild /great grandchild?
Grandma Harriet: I have no favorite.
Jax - You tell long stories. Do you feel it’s important to treat it like an endurance sport and hydrate in between?
Grandma Harriet – (laughing) I just like to talk.
Jax - Have you ever repeated stories?
Grandma Harriet - Never. Just ask anyone
Jax– If anything happens in life that is hard..how do you deal with it?
Grandma Harriet–Deal with it
Jax – Any regrets in your life? (My dad is sitting next to her and says, “Ask me?”) I ask him and he says “Yes!”
Grandma Harriet – None. No regrets.
Jax- You ran bingo for years at your independent living. What was the biggest scandal?
Grandma Harriet – People were talking too loud at the wrong times so I yelled, “Be quiet!”
Jax– Any word of advice for your family?
Grandma Harriet– Just be happy with each other. Nothing makes me happier than the fact that you are all very close. I want it to stay that way. Or else you’ll hear from me. I’m the luckiest lady at this point in anyone’s life. I have more than anyone. I have all my children, grandchildren and great children. Everyone around me is very special. Each and every one has their little way. And they make me feel special.
PART 2 – Interview with Lila and Joanna about grandma (otherwise known as Bubby in great grandchildren circles.)
Jax - What do you want to tell Bubby?
Joanna – I’ve lost seven teeth now
Lila - I love her
Jax - Do you like cuddling with Bubby in her bed?
Lila & Joanna - Yes. Because she’s cuddly.
Jax – What’s your favorite gift from Bubby?
Joanna – The money. For my first tooth
Lila –A baby the doll
Jax - What’s the doll’s name?
Lila - Baby Harriet
Jax – What do you like best about Bubby?
Lila – She is funny
Joanna – She is very funny and makes me laugh a lot. When I think of Bubby I think of her kindness.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Day 208 - A Laptop’s Erotic Journey from New York to Charlotte
March 4th, 2010
I just drove the southwest route down highway 81 from New York to Charlotte, North Carolina. I know what you’re thinking, “Jax can type and drive...at the same time!?” She is so capable, committed and is probably working on tomorrow’s blog entry entitled, “Death on the Highway – A Girl and Her Laptop’s Erotic Journey from New York to Charlotte.” Despite my (real or perceived) attempts at badassness, I am not putting my life on the line in the name of multitasking. It’s my grandmother’s 90th birthday and I’m participating in a 10 ½ road trip with my father and stepmother to get to this celebration. And to the 60 steaks Grandma bought for the weekend.
Don’t be jealous that I’ve seen more Cracker Barrels in the last few hours than you might ever see in your lifetime. We are in this together. Yes indeed. Memories in the making. Readers, we’ve become so close and I want my memories to be your memories. I will share with you the highlights of each state that we passed through.
New York
I stayed at my father’s in Westchester, New York last night so we could get an early start at 7:30am. Although there was a little disappointment around leaving fifteen minutes late, we persevered and entered the car equipped with determination, granola and eco-friendly water bottles. Team Kabat could have been a promising contender in the “Cannonball Run.” Two. I was a little thrown off when I realized that the female GPS voice had a disturbing audio resemblance to the faux Madonna British accent. My dad told my stepmother that we weren’t stopping and then asked her, “Did you put on your diaper?”
New Jersey
Not too much to say about New Jersey except that it’s a good place to pass through. In the dark. It was here that we decided to begin our 16 disc book on tape, Pat Conroy's “South of Broad.” Although we are nowhere near the end, I am picking up that the overall message is that tragedy hurls into all our lives and that sinking to our lower depths allows us redemption and a significant soul cleansing. A light read.
Pennsylvania
(More specifically…Western Pennsylvania)
Although there were some notable scenic views, it was the exaggeration of the industrial way of life that caught my attention. I would imagine this would be a suitable locale for truckers and strippers to retire. Our voyage’s rising action really kicked in when a light indicating a flat tire came on and the OnStar customer service woman directed us to the closest BMW dealership in….Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania. Mechanicsburg? You can’t write this shit. You can find it right between Plumbersburg and Marinebiologistburg. After an inspection, we were informed that the one tire was fine. It was the other three that were punctured. While the car was getting surgery, we ended up eating a lunch of Sun Chips and pretzels from the waiting area’s vending machines. My blood sugar gave me the finger.
Maryland
We only passed through Maryland for five minutes and that’s when I received a text from my brother in San Francisco that said, "Flight canceled. Looking for options. Not good.” He and his wife were trying to reschedule in the midst of airport chaos with their three year old. And one year old. Injured tires didn’t seem too bad.
West Virginia
Our drive through West Virginia was also very brief but it was nice to be greeted with a sign that said, “West Virginia, Wild and Wonderful.” This was good to know because I always thought it was just one of the two. Dad says, “West Virginia, 5 million people. 3 last names.”
Virginia
To our dismay, the tire light went on again so we called the dealership in Mechanicsburg. We were assured that the light is a frequent glitch after changing tires. Oh BMW…you really keep us on our toes. Unfortunately my brother wasn't able to rebook until tomorrow. Feeling a little bummed, I decided to read a few pages in my book, “Awakening Intuition.” Then my intuition told me to go back to the book on tape.We passed through the Shenandoah Valley that is bounded to the east by the Blue Ridge Mountains. I started humming John Denver songs and got sad thinking about the Halloween after he died when I saw people dressed up as him wearing a guitar. And seaweed. That was wrong.
North Carolina
We finally made it to my home state. North Carol-tucky might have low SAT scores…but according to our license plate, we are “First in Flight.” We got to my cousin’s house, drank some scotch and were talking about what an amazing tribute it is to my grandmother that 35 relatives are coming in from all over the country to celebrate her strength. And her heart. Harriet Kabat. There can be only one. Like Mechanicsburg.
I just drove the southwest route down highway 81 from New York to Charlotte, North Carolina. I know what you’re thinking, “Jax can type and drive...at the same time!?” She is so capable, committed and is probably working on tomorrow’s blog entry entitled, “Death on the Highway – A Girl and Her Laptop’s Erotic Journey from New York to Charlotte.” Despite my (real or perceived) attempts at badassness, I am not putting my life on the line in the name of multitasking. It’s my grandmother’s 90th birthday and I’m participating in a 10 ½ road trip with my father and stepmother to get to this celebration. And to the 60 steaks Grandma bought for the weekend.
Don’t be jealous that I’ve seen more Cracker Barrels in the last few hours than you might ever see in your lifetime. We are in this together. Yes indeed. Memories in the making. Readers, we’ve become so close and I want my memories to be your memories. I will share with you the highlights of each state that we passed through.
New York
I stayed at my father’s in Westchester, New York last night so we could get an early start at 7:30am. Although there was a little disappointment around leaving fifteen minutes late, we persevered and entered the car equipped with determination, granola and eco-friendly water bottles. Team Kabat could have been a promising contender in the “Cannonball Run.” Two. I was a little thrown off when I realized that the female GPS voice had a disturbing audio resemblance to the faux Madonna British accent. My dad told my stepmother that we weren’t stopping and then asked her, “Did you put on your diaper?”
New Jersey
Not too much to say about New Jersey except that it’s a good place to pass through. In the dark. It was here that we decided to begin our 16 disc book on tape, Pat Conroy's “South of Broad.” Although we are nowhere near the end, I am picking up that the overall message is that tragedy hurls into all our lives and that sinking to our lower depths allows us redemption and a significant soul cleansing. A light read.
Pennsylvania
(More specifically…Western Pennsylvania)
Although there were some notable scenic views, it was the exaggeration of the industrial way of life that caught my attention. I would imagine this would be a suitable locale for truckers and strippers to retire. Our voyage’s rising action really kicked in when a light indicating a flat tire came on and the OnStar customer service woman directed us to the closest BMW dealership in….Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania. Mechanicsburg? You can’t write this shit. You can find it right between Plumbersburg and Marinebiologistburg. After an inspection, we were informed that the one tire was fine. It was the other three that were punctured. While the car was getting surgery, we ended up eating a lunch of Sun Chips and pretzels from the waiting area’s vending machines. My blood sugar gave me the finger.
Maryland
We only passed through Maryland for five minutes and that’s when I received a text from my brother in San Francisco that said, "Flight canceled. Looking for options. Not good.” He and his wife were trying to reschedule in the midst of airport chaos with their three year old. And one year old. Injured tires didn’t seem too bad.
West Virginia
Our drive through West Virginia was also very brief but it was nice to be greeted with a sign that said, “West Virginia, Wild and Wonderful.” This was good to know because I always thought it was just one of the two. Dad says, “West Virginia, 5 million people. 3 last names.”
Virginia
To our dismay, the tire light went on again so we called the dealership in Mechanicsburg. We were assured that the light is a frequent glitch after changing tires. Oh BMW…you really keep us on our toes. Unfortunately my brother wasn't able to rebook until tomorrow. Feeling a little bummed, I decided to read a few pages in my book, “Awakening Intuition.” Then my intuition told me to go back to the book on tape.We passed through the Shenandoah Valley that is bounded to the east by the Blue Ridge Mountains. I started humming John Denver songs and got sad thinking about the Halloween after he died when I saw people dressed up as him wearing a guitar. And seaweed. That was wrong.
North Carolina
We finally made it to my home state. North Carol-tucky might have low SAT scores…but according to our license plate, we are “First in Flight.” We got to my cousin’s house, drank some scotch and were talking about what an amazing tribute it is to my grandmother that 35 relatives are coming in from all over the country to celebrate her strength. And her heart. Harriet Kabat. There can be only one. Like Mechanicsburg.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Day 207 - Don't Say That. Ever
March 3rd, 2010
I’m a woman of words. I like them. These “words" keep showing up in my life...in my writing, in my speaking and in my heart. I try my best to choose my words carefully because I am quite aware that I will have a lifetime relationship with them.
Sometimes I see words and words strung together (you might know them as phrases, clauses and sentences) that are so gut wretchedly annoying that I' rather scratch my fingernails on a chalk board while chewing on tin foil. While I'm on fire.
I will dare to disagree with "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me." When particular words and groupings of words enter my listening space (uninvited)…emotional, physical and spiritual discomfort encompasses my soul.
Here are Jax's Top 10 annoying things to be heard and should be exiled to the Island of Elba.
Like Napoleon.
1) Think of the Children
- Are the children thinking of me?
2) “Cougar”
-Would Jewish women be Jewgars?
3) “Just kidding”, “No offense” and "I'm just honest”
- You’re not kidding, you did mean offense and the honest excuse is a weak attempt at a save . You put it out there, it was mean and now we’re seeing something inside of you that deliberately tries to make people feel bad. Unfortunate character trait. Note to self.
4) “Wuzzup!”
-Mildly funny for 15 minutes in 2001. Not now.
5) “Totes”
- If you say this, I will never be friends with you. Ever.
6)“Going Green”
- My blog is going green.
7) “Consultant”
- This is the import/export career of the 2000’s.
8) “TMI”
- No..no no. There is never such thing as too much information. TMI is said after something scandalous, dirty and is always the beginning of a story that I want to hear to the end. You do too. Admit it. NEIKIC – Not enough information. Keep it coming.
9) “Sorry but (fill in the blank)”
- This means I didn’t get what I wanted for some reason. That makes me sad.
10) “It's Not Rocket Science”
-This is seldom uttered by rocket scientists.
I’m a woman of words. I like them. These “words" keep showing up in my life...in my writing, in my speaking and in my heart. I try my best to choose my words carefully because I am quite aware that I will have a lifetime relationship with them.
Sometimes I see words and words strung together (you might know them as phrases, clauses and sentences) that are so gut wretchedly annoying that I' rather scratch my fingernails on a chalk board while chewing on tin foil. While I'm on fire.
I will dare to disagree with "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me." When particular words and groupings of words enter my listening space (uninvited)…emotional, physical and spiritual discomfort encompasses my soul.
Here are Jax's Top 10 annoying things to be heard and should be exiled to the Island of Elba.
Like Napoleon.
1) Think of the Children
- Are the children thinking of me?
2) “Cougar”
-Would Jewish women be Jewgars?
3) “Just kidding”, “No offense” and "I'm just honest”
- You’re not kidding, you did mean offense and the honest excuse is a weak attempt at a save . You put it out there, it was mean and now we’re seeing something inside of you that deliberately tries to make people feel bad. Unfortunate character trait. Note to self.
4) “Wuzzup!”
-Mildly funny for 15 minutes in 2001. Not now.
5) “Totes”
- If you say this, I will never be friends with you. Ever.
6)“Going Green”
- My blog is going green.
7) “Consultant”
- This is the import/export career of the 2000’s.
8) “TMI”
- No..no no. There is never such thing as too much information. TMI is said after something scandalous, dirty and is always the beginning of a story that I want to hear to the end. You do too. Admit it. NEIKIC – Not enough information. Keep it coming.
9) “Sorry but (fill in the blank)”
- This means I didn’t get what I wanted for some reason. That makes me sad.
10) “It's Not Rocket Science”
-This is seldom uttered by rocket scientists.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Day 206 -Thanks Mon Means Thank You in Jive
March 2nd, 2010
It's better for me to email thank you notes because my handwriting is that of a 4th grader. Maybe a second grader. I do absolutely 100% see the sentiment and significance of one party wishing to express appreciation to another party in a written format. In our personal and business encounters there are clearly times when we need to extend our gratitude to someone who gave us their time, a service or a gift. Even if it’s a regifted picture frame with the giver’s monogrammed initials on the back. You know who you are.
As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve really been trying to have “the attitude of gratitude” as frequently as possible. There is no downside to recognizing and reminding ourselves of all that we are thankful for. As I’ve mentioned before, our deliberate decisions to focus on all that we are grateful for is supposed to create more good things. I’m a fan of things. That are good.
There are a few thank you letters that I should have sent out over the years to people who touched my life in some way. The following people should be expecting a much delayed email(in a cursive font) of thanks from me. Soonish.
-Thank you Gay Pride Parade marchers. You inspired me to organize a Straight Shame March. Straight people with shame deserve to be heard too. They’ve been silent for too long.
- Thank you two awkward 14 year boys having a conversation behind me on the subway. Because of you…I am extremely aware and grateful that I was never a 14 yr old boy.
- Thank you Anne Curry. I find your voice very soothing.
-Thank you paparazzi. You having no interest in my career(but if you did..I’d send you a thank you note too.)
-Thank you Facebook creators. You have never made addictive time wasting more fun.
- Thank you crime scene shows. I now know that female forensics specialists with lush hair don’t have to wear hairnets when searching for the tiniest fibers and particles.
-Thank you David Caruso. I now know that it is possible for anyone to be a sex symbol.
-Thank you radiologic technologist who created string cheese. It’s fun, delicious and filled with radiation goodness.
-Thank you Tom Cruise. I too love jumping on and destroying perfectly good couches. We don’t have to hide our unique cardiovascular activity of choice any longer.
-Thank you Benihana chefs. You put my leftovers in tin foil origami masterpieces that resemble mangled ducks. Although I know that you do this for all your patrons, I tell myself that it is just for me..so, in my mind’s eye, I see it as more of a swan.
It's better for me to email thank you notes because my handwriting is that of a 4th grader. Maybe a second grader. I do absolutely 100% see the sentiment and significance of one party wishing to express appreciation to another party in a written format. In our personal and business encounters there are clearly times when we need to extend our gratitude to someone who gave us their time, a service or a gift. Even if it’s a regifted picture frame with the giver’s monogrammed initials on the back. You know who you are.
As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve really been trying to have “the attitude of gratitude” as frequently as possible. There is no downside to recognizing and reminding ourselves of all that we are thankful for. As I’ve mentioned before, our deliberate decisions to focus on all that we are grateful for is supposed to create more good things. I’m a fan of things. That are good.
There are a few thank you letters that I should have sent out over the years to people who touched my life in some way. The following people should be expecting a much delayed email(in a cursive font) of thanks from me. Soonish.
-Thank you Gay Pride Parade marchers. You inspired me to organize a Straight Shame March. Straight people with shame deserve to be heard too. They’ve been silent for too long.
- Thank you two awkward 14 year boys having a conversation behind me on the subway. Because of you…I am extremely aware and grateful that I was never a 14 yr old boy.
- Thank you Anne Curry. I find your voice very soothing.
-Thank you paparazzi. You having no interest in my career(but if you did..I’d send you a thank you note too.)
-Thank you Facebook creators. You have never made addictive time wasting more fun.
- Thank you crime scene shows. I now know that female forensics specialists with lush hair don’t have to wear hairnets when searching for the tiniest fibers and particles.
-Thank you David Caruso. I now know that it is possible for anyone to be a sex symbol.
-Thank you radiologic technologist who created string cheese. It’s fun, delicious and filled with radiation goodness.
-Thank you Tom Cruise. I too love jumping on and destroying perfectly good couches. We don’t have to hide our unique cardiovascular activity of choice any longer.
-Thank you Benihana chefs. You put my leftovers in tin foil origami masterpieces that resemble mangled ducks. Although I know that you do this for all your patrons, I tell myself that it is just for me..so, in my mind’s eye, I see it as more of a swan.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Day 205 - Nonchalant Observer -Installment #5 – Current TV Piece
March 1, 2010
Today is my fifth installment of my “Nonchalant Observer” series. On day 22, I observed (judged) what crossed my path as I sat with my coffee on my Brooklyn stoop. On day 38, I took you with me to the happenings of beach life in the surfing town of Hermosa Beach, California. On day 112, we crossed the age gap and hit a retirement community. During happy hour. You came with me to my father and stepmother’s house for brunch in Westchester, New York on day 141. Today you will join me as I am being shot in a piece for Current TV.
This footage was being directed and produced by the founding directors of Monkey Goes Production Company, Matt Pickar and Jon Reitzes. I met these guys (who have done work for MTV, CNBC, A&E Biography Channel, Google… ) at an eBay event that I was hosting at ABC studios last summer. Jon and I live in the same neighborhood and have (alarmingly frequent) run-ins on the street. We appear to be in sync and the universe wants us to work together. Jon and Matt immediately called me when they got hired to do this piece(actually, I’m not at all certain that call was made in any form of haste and I might not have even been their first choice…but I want to create a sense of urgency to the scenario and add some high octane fun for my readers.) Regardless, they asked me to be in it. I agreed to participate. We filmed today and I was instructed to get from my apartment in Brooklyn to The Cloisters in upper Manhattan. I was only allowed to use subway maps and ask people for directions. The other two participants in this journey were followed by a crew as they used alternative methods of navigating their way. One person used an iphone application and another was permitted to print out Hopstop directions.
I made detailed notes from 8:45am-1:47pm on this Monday March 1st, 2010
The following is presented in “real” time:
8:45 – Jon and his assistant arrive at my apartment. They attach my mic and get some footage of me introducing myself. My eyes start watering because it’s evidently going to be the longest winter ever. Not diva tears. Frigid tears. We reshoot my intro on a sunnier block. Jon hands me a Flip Video camera because he also wants me to film myself subwaying up to The Cloisters. Luckily, I’m very Flip friendly because my brother was the marketing director for this camera…which makes me… Flip-riffic. They start filming me as I walk the streets of Brooklyn. I begin to hear Carly Simon’s "Let the River Run." On the soundtrack of my mind. To be released this spring.
9:37 – We stop at Café Pedlar and “my team” treats me to a cup of coffee. As we’re drinking it outside, the manger comes out and is calmly irritated that Jon used the camera in the café. I get nervous and am thinking about putting my coffee down and yelling, “Abort! Abort!”… and then runaway. Then run back to grab my coffee. Then runaway again. Luckily Jon is a smooth talker and reassures her that he only shot me coming out the door. Problem resolved.
10:01 – We go down into the subway and I review the map on the wall. I don’t see The Cloisters but went there 11 years ago and recall that I got off at 190th. Or 181st ? Maybe 207th?
10:04 - I get on the F train at Bergen Street and intend to switch to the A at Borough Hall. None of us realize that we got on the C train by mistake. We don’t let this rising action frazzle our spirits and we make a seamless transfer to the A at Times Square. We were back on the right track. Literally. I’m trying to look at a map on the wall above one of the seats and my above average size purse hits the heavyset woman sitting below it. She was not amused. She didn’t say anything but her expression suggested that she had some serious past unresolved issues around being hit with handbags. By accident. We not so subtlety relocate to another part of the car.
10:37 - I’m still on the train and starting to reconsider exactly which stop is my best bet. I ask the rosy-cheeked bald Dutch man next to me if I can borrow his map. He graciously hands it over and then I proceed to rip it as I perused. His stop approaches and he tells me to just keep the map and he’ll get another one. Dutch. Good people. Good high people.
10:53 - I continue to look at my new map and in the spirit of trying to listen to my guttural intuition more these days, I decide that 190th will be our stop. My initial choice. I ask a woman across from me if The Cloisters are at 190th and she said that’s the correct stop. Then a lady behind me chimes in. In Spanish. Then in English, “190th.” The next thing I know, the Spanish woman and helpful woman #1 start speaking in and out of Spanish, look at me and together say, “190th.” This is soon followed by every passenger within my vicinity becoming very committed to getting me where I needed to go. Stat. Many people started chanting “190th! 190th! 190!” Maybe not that passionately…but I'm adding their rebel yell to my soundtrack. The subway version.
11:02 – We end up getting off at…190th. My new Metro Transit Authority friends had my back. I’ll miss them. We exit the train, see The Cloisters castle and walk over a hill overlooking the Hudson River. It’s a cloudless sunny day with remnants of last week’s blizzard. Stunning visual. I should come here more often. I won’t.
11:45 – I meet up at the museum entrance with the 2 other people who had just completed their journey uptown. We see a sign on the door that it is open Tuesday-Sunday. Today is Monday. This was a “planned surprise” but it still felt like showing up at Wally World only to hear Marty Moose say, “ Sorry, folks! We're closed for two weeks to clean and repair America's favorite family fun park. Sorry, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh!”
1:46 - The production guys are buying me lunch. That’ nice. Not in the mood to watch calories. Eat French fries.
1:47 - I wonder if my chanting subway support groups ever ask about me....
Today is my fifth installment of my “Nonchalant Observer” series. On day 22, I observed (judged) what crossed my path as I sat with my coffee on my Brooklyn stoop. On day 38, I took you with me to the happenings of beach life in the surfing town of Hermosa Beach, California. On day 112, we crossed the age gap and hit a retirement community. During happy hour. You came with me to my father and stepmother’s house for brunch in Westchester, New York on day 141. Today you will join me as I am being shot in a piece for Current TV.
This footage was being directed and produced by the founding directors of Monkey Goes Production Company, Matt Pickar and Jon Reitzes. I met these guys (who have done work for MTV, CNBC, A&E Biography Channel, Google… ) at an eBay event that I was hosting at ABC studios last summer. Jon and I live in the same neighborhood and have (alarmingly frequent) run-ins on the street. We appear to be in sync and the universe wants us to work together. Jon and Matt immediately called me when they got hired to do this piece(actually, I’m not at all certain that call was made in any form of haste and I might not have even been their first choice…but I want to create a sense of urgency to the scenario and add some high octane fun for my readers.) Regardless, they asked me to be in it. I agreed to participate. We filmed today and I was instructed to get from my apartment in Brooklyn to The Cloisters in upper Manhattan. I was only allowed to use subway maps and ask people for directions. The other two participants in this journey were followed by a crew as they used alternative methods of navigating their way. One person used an iphone application and another was permitted to print out Hopstop directions.
I made detailed notes from 8:45am-1:47pm on this Monday March 1st, 2010
The following is presented in “real” time:
8:45 – Jon and his assistant arrive at my apartment. They attach my mic and get some footage of me introducing myself. My eyes start watering because it’s evidently going to be the longest winter ever. Not diva tears. Frigid tears. We reshoot my intro on a sunnier block. Jon hands me a Flip Video camera because he also wants me to film myself subwaying up to The Cloisters. Luckily, I’m very Flip friendly because my brother was the marketing director for this camera…which makes me… Flip-riffic. They start filming me as I walk the streets of Brooklyn. I begin to hear Carly Simon’s "Let the River Run." On the soundtrack of my mind. To be released this spring.
9:37 – We stop at Café Pedlar and “my team” treats me to a cup of coffee. As we’re drinking it outside, the manger comes out and is calmly irritated that Jon used the camera in the café. I get nervous and am thinking about putting my coffee down and yelling, “Abort! Abort!”… and then runaway. Then run back to grab my coffee. Then runaway again. Luckily Jon is a smooth talker and reassures her that he only shot me coming out the door. Problem resolved.
10:01 – We go down into the subway and I review the map on the wall. I don’t see The Cloisters but went there 11 years ago and recall that I got off at 190th. Or 181st ? Maybe 207th?
10:04 - I get on the F train at Bergen Street and intend to switch to the A at Borough Hall. None of us realize that we got on the C train by mistake. We don’t let this rising action frazzle our spirits and we make a seamless transfer to the A at Times Square. We were back on the right track. Literally. I’m trying to look at a map on the wall above one of the seats and my above average size purse hits the heavyset woman sitting below it. She was not amused. She didn’t say anything but her expression suggested that she had some serious past unresolved issues around being hit with handbags. By accident. We not so subtlety relocate to another part of the car.
10:37 - I’m still on the train and starting to reconsider exactly which stop is my best bet. I ask the rosy-cheeked bald Dutch man next to me if I can borrow his map. He graciously hands it over and then I proceed to rip it as I perused. His stop approaches and he tells me to just keep the map and he’ll get another one. Dutch. Good people. Good high people.
10:53 - I continue to look at my new map and in the spirit of trying to listen to my guttural intuition more these days, I decide that 190th will be our stop. My initial choice. I ask a woman across from me if The Cloisters are at 190th and she said that’s the correct stop. Then a lady behind me chimes in. In Spanish. Then in English, “190th.” The next thing I know, the Spanish woman and helpful woman #1 start speaking in and out of Spanish, look at me and together say, “190th.” This is soon followed by every passenger within my vicinity becoming very committed to getting me where I needed to go. Stat. Many people started chanting “190th! 190th! 190!” Maybe not that passionately…but I'm adding their rebel yell to my soundtrack. The subway version.
11:02 – We end up getting off at…190th. My new Metro Transit Authority friends had my back. I’ll miss them. We exit the train, see The Cloisters castle and walk over a hill overlooking the Hudson River. It’s a cloudless sunny day with remnants of last week’s blizzard. Stunning visual. I should come here more often. I won’t.
11:45 – I meet up at the museum entrance with the 2 other people who had just completed their journey uptown. We see a sign on the door that it is open Tuesday-Sunday. Today is Monday. This was a “planned surprise” but it still felt like showing up at Wally World only to hear Marty Moose say, “ Sorry, folks! We're closed for two weeks to clean and repair America's favorite family fun park. Sorry, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh!”
1:46 - The production guys are buying me lunch. That’ nice. Not in the mood to watch calories. Eat French fries.
1:47 - I wonder if my chanting subway support groups ever ask about me....
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