November 14th, 2009
I write to you from a train heading up to Valhalla, NY. Just that sentence makes me think that you are my sweetheart, my love..and I write to you from the war. I digress. One of my best high school friends, Dana Lanier Schaffer,was diagnosed with Retinitis Pigmentosa (RP) , a degenerative retinal disease that is currently affecting her peripheral and night vision and will eventually lead to blindness. I’m meeting her for the VisionWalk--a 5K to raise funds to support research for RP other degenerative retinal diseases. I will write more about this experience tomorrow..I just want you to know my whereabouts at every moment. I like to check in.
As I am being transported, I am reminded of a 6 month period in 2007/2008 where I gave up my apartment and basically lived on the road. I was seeking some type of life change and spent that time traveling around to workshops that I was teaching, living with my then boyfriend and reconnecting with friends and family all over the country.
While this was a unique a opportunity..it lead to some major exhaustion. Life on the road(love that phrase) results with the unavoidable reality that I utilized every type of transportation imaginable…planes, trains, automobiles, bikes, subways, my feet, horse and buggies, flying carpets and magical unicorns. I have to admit, with so much uncertainly, it was often during my transit that I felt most at peace. There was something very cathartic and real about just being in the moment as I bounced from on locale to the next. These moments ended up being rather rejuvenating and offered me the opportunities to gain some insight and clarity.
I really didn’t have any other option than to just “be” as I was being moved from one location to the next. I have included a short piece below called “The Flying Trapeze”. The author is unknown. I read it at the end of my Humor for Health Workshops because this art form is only effective when participants are committed to allowing themselves to still their minds and be in the only thing that’s real, the present.
THE FLYING TRAPEZE
Sometimes I feel that my life is a series of trapeze swings. I'm either hanging onto a trapeze bar swinging along or, for a few moments, I'm hurtling across space in between bars.
Most of the time I'm hanging on for dear life to my trapeze bar of the moment. It carries me along at a certain steady rate of swing and I have the feeling that I'm in control of my life. I know most of the right questions and even some of the right answers. But once in a while as I'm merrily swinging along, I look ahead of me into the distance and I see another bar swinging towards me. It's empty and I know, in that place in me that knows, that this new trapeze bar has my name on it. It is my next step, my growth, my aliveness coming to get me. In my heart-of- hearts, I know that for me to grow, I must release my grip on the present, well-known bar to move to the new one.
Each time it happens, I hope – no I pray – that I won't have to grab the new trapeze bar. But in my knowing place I realize that I must totally release my grasp on my old bar and for sometime I must hurtle across space before I can grab onto the new bar. Each time I am filled with terror. It doesn't matter that in all my previous hurtles across the void of unknowing, I have always made it. Each time I am afraid I will miss -that I will be crushed on unseen rocks in the bottomless chasm between the bars. But I do it anyway. Perhaps this is the essence of what the mystics call the faith experience. No guarantees, no net, no insurance policy, but you do it anyway because somehow, to keep hanging onto that old bar is no longer an alternative. And so for an eternity that can last a microsecond or a thousand lifetimes, I soar across the dark void of "the past is gone, the future is not yet here." It is called transition. I have come to believe that it is the only place that real change occurs.
I have noticed that in our culture this transition zone is looked upon as a nothing - a no-place between places. Surely the old trapeze bar was real and that new one coming towards me, I hope that's real, too. But the void in between? That's just a scary, confusing, disorienting "nowhere" that must be gotten through as fast and as unconsciously as possible. What a waste! I have a sneaking suspicion that the transition zone is the only real thing, and that the bars are illusions we dream up to avoid the void where the real change, the real growth, occurs for us. Whether or not my hunch is true, it remains that the transition zones in our lives are incredibly rich places. They should be honored - even savored. Even with all the pain and fear and feelings of being out-of-control that can accompany transitions, they are still the most alive, most growth filled, most passionate, most expansive moments in our lives.
And so, transformation of fear may have nothing to do with making fear go away, but rather with giving ourselves permission to "hang out" in the transition between trapeze bars. Transforming our need to grab that new bar...any bar...is allowing ourselves to dwell in the only place where change really happens. It can be terrifying. It can also be enlightening, in the true sense of the word. Hurtling through the void --we just may learn how to fly. -Author Unknown
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
Day 97 - Young and Impressionable
November 13th, 2009
Kids can get away with anything because the go to phrase for justifying rebellious behavior is “young and impressionable”. Adults who partake in the same frowned upon acts are generally coined as “old and bad decision making doers”. If you’re over the age of 25, be prepared for harsh judgment when you loiter with your coworkers on golf courses and cemeteries after midnight. Drinking Pabst.
Psychotherapists, self help gurus and our inner child all agree that there are gigantean benefits to acting like a kid again. Yet there seems to be a double standard when grown ups indulge in the same "think outside the box" endeavors. I say let’s never lose our right to act youngish and be easily influenced. By Satan.
I asked you all what “young and impressionable” endeavors that you pursued years ago. Let's not delude ourselves...they will undoubtedly be viewed as unkosher if we attempted the same mayhem today. So only moon people you really care about.
Peeing on people.
-Tony Naccarato
Flashing my bum....don't nobody need to see that!!!!!
-Debbie Ross Serrano
Vandalizing the local restricted golf course. And that's no joke. Of course I only did it for fun, not in protest
-Ted Kim
Running through the neighborhood, across front yards and over backyard fences, screaming, carrying guns. They were fake guns, but this was back when they could look like guns instead of day-glo ray guns.
-Nat Sternbergh
When I was around sleeping people, I would pry open their eyelids to see if they'd wake up. They didn't but I'd watch their eyes dart all over the place.
-G.M. Guity
In grade school,I would walk close behind my 5th grade nun and lift the cape thingy attached to her head covering and walk behind her for a while holding it. I did it a lot and I never got caught and not one kid in the class ever told. Sorry sister Margret Mary.
-Michael Codispoti
I used to jump over Big Wheels with my 3-Speed bike when I was 10. I would line them up like they were buses. Thought I was Evel Kneivel. Then one day, I crashed just like Evel Kneivel. Not fun... :)
-Dan Verkman
I tore the tags off all my pillows and mattress. I also murdered a man in upstate NY...
-Ruth Kabat Thomas
Kids can get away with anything because the go to phrase for justifying rebellious behavior is “young and impressionable”. Adults who partake in the same frowned upon acts are generally coined as “old and bad decision making doers”. If you’re over the age of 25, be prepared for harsh judgment when you loiter with your coworkers on golf courses and cemeteries after midnight. Drinking Pabst.
Psychotherapists, self help gurus and our inner child all agree that there are gigantean benefits to acting like a kid again. Yet there seems to be a double standard when grown ups indulge in the same "think outside the box" endeavors. I say let’s never lose our right to act youngish and be easily influenced. By Satan.
I asked you all what “young and impressionable” endeavors that you pursued years ago. Let's not delude ourselves...they will undoubtedly be viewed as unkosher if we attempted the same mayhem today. So only moon people you really care about.
Peeing on people.
-Tony Naccarato
Flashing my bum....don't nobody need to see that!!!!!
-Debbie Ross Serrano
Vandalizing the local restricted golf course. And that's no joke. Of course I only did it for fun, not in protest
-Ted Kim
Running through the neighborhood, across front yards and over backyard fences, screaming, carrying guns. They were fake guns, but this was back when they could look like guns instead of day-glo ray guns.
-Nat Sternbergh
When I was around sleeping people, I would pry open their eyelids to see if they'd wake up. They didn't but I'd watch their eyes dart all over the place.
-G.M. Guity
In grade school,I would walk close behind my 5th grade nun and lift the cape thingy attached to her head covering and walk behind her for a while holding it. I did it a lot and I never got caught and not one kid in the class ever told. Sorry sister Margret Mary.
-Michael Codispoti
I used to jump over Big Wheels with my 3-Speed bike when I was 10. I would line them up like they were buses. Thought I was Evel Kneivel. Then one day, I crashed just like Evel Kneivel. Not fun... :)
-Dan Verkman
I tore the tags off all my pillows and mattress. I also murdered a man in upstate NY...
-Ruth Kabat Thomas
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Day 96 - I So Happy
November 12th, 2009
Are you suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorder.. SAD? Do you experience lower energy levels, weight gain, fatigue, interrupted sleep and irritability each fall and winter?
While most of us despise the winter blues, there are some people that benefit(and dare I say prosper exponentially) this time of year. Those in the light therapy business must be ecstatic when that clock falls back an hour in October. Evidently this therapy box of sunshine gives off bright light that mimics natural outdoor light. Sound like a portable travel size tanning bed. Adorable. This faux sun therapy is thought to alter our circadian rhythms and suppress our body's natural release of melatonin. Biochemical changes will magically alter in our brain and reduce symptoms of seasonal affective disorder.
Bar owners also must yearn for an evening that starts a few hours after lunch. Professional and amateur drinkers both received the memo that intoxicating during daylight hours is frowned upon. If you have an affinity for one of the only legal drugs,you get to indulge in your addiction earlier than you became “that drunk in the beret“ at that Bastille Day party last July.
A few years ago, I reviewed some New York City bars in "Shecky’s Nightlife Guide". I am recommending a few that you might want to visit at night..at 4:00 PM. On a Tuesday.
Temple Bar
332 Lafayette St.
(Bleecker & Houston Sts.)
NoHo
212.925.4242
Temple bar provides the perfect atmosphere and décor for the chic business casual crowd wanting to impress a highly anticipated first date or those in the midst of a scandalous clandestine affair. The long stained cherry oak bar, inviting cocktail lounge, dimmed back lighting and velvet drapes set this romantic stage at this lover’s den. With jazz favorites crooning in the back background, an extensive list of alarmingly strong specialty beverages and seventy different types of vodkas can be savored at this Noho establishment. If you want to nibble on more than your date’s neck, try the tasty salt and pepper Calamari. You can always rely on the complimentary bowls of popcorn. if the high end cocktails have emptied your wallet.
Old Town Bar
45 E. 18th St.
(Broadway & Park Ave. So.)
Flatiron
212-529-6732
Authentic New York at it’s best. For over 110 years, Old Town Bar and Restaurant has welcomed generations of good ‘ol beer guzzling Manhattanites. Grandiose are the 16 foot ornate tin ceilings, 55 foot long mahogany/marble bar, and the giant urinals “fresh” from 1910. Pretentious attitude remains refreshingly minimal at this former Speak Easy. Grab an ale and juicy Bison burger while you enjoy tunes ranging from Jewel’s rendition of “Wild Horses” to the soulful melodies of Louis Armstrong. The walls are pasted with beer signs, political paraphernalia and photos of stars who have filmed here…Liam Nesson, Frank McCourt and Chloe Sevigny. Not only does this bar lure celebrities, it IS a celebrity. The neon sign was featured on Letterman’s Intro when he was on NBC. That’s good history!
RODEO BAR
375 3rd Ave.
(26th & 27th Sts.)
212-683-6500
Tread through the sawdust and peanut shells, grab a bottle of Dixie beer and hoedown to the tunes of this lively southern roadhouse. Great honky tonk bands with names like “Bastard Sons of Johnny Cash” play in a horse trailer imported from Vermont and are enjoyed by a melting pot including Good’ Ol boys, punk rockers, upper east side gentry and German tourists. Don’t let the giant stuffed Bison above the bar prevent you from ordering some top notch barbecued Tex Mex grub. According to the menu, “Rodeo bar employees are the baddest mofos walking this stupid planet”. The only thing missing from this Lone Star barn on Third Avenue is a mechanical bull. Can we at least sit on the stuffed Bison?
To answer that question. Yes. Yes we can.
Are you suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorder.. SAD? Do you experience lower energy levels, weight gain, fatigue, interrupted sleep and irritability each fall and winter?
While most of us despise the winter blues, there are some people that benefit(and dare I say prosper exponentially) this time of year. Those in the light therapy business must be ecstatic when that clock falls back an hour in October. Evidently this therapy box of sunshine gives off bright light that mimics natural outdoor light. Sound like a portable travel size tanning bed. Adorable. This faux sun therapy is thought to alter our circadian rhythms and suppress our body's natural release of melatonin. Biochemical changes will magically alter in our brain and reduce symptoms of seasonal affective disorder.
Bar owners also must yearn for an evening that starts a few hours after lunch. Professional and amateur drinkers both received the memo that intoxicating during daylight hours is frowned upon. If you have an affinity for one of the only legal drugs,you get to indulge in your addiction earlier than you became “that drunk in the beret“ at that Bastille Day party last July.
A few years ago, I reviewed some New York City bars in "Shecky’s Nightlife Guide". I am recommending a few that you might want to visit at night..at 4:00 PM. On a Tuesday.
Temple Bar
332 Lafayette St.
(Bleecker & Houston Sts.)
NoHo
212.925.4242
Temple bar provides the perfect atmosphere and décor for the chic business casual crowd wanting to impress a highly anticipated first date or those in the midst of a scandalous clandestine affair. The long stained cherry oak bar, inviting cocktail lounge, dimmed back lighting and velvet drapes set this romantic stage at this lover’s den. With jazz favorites crooning in the back background, an extensive list of alarmingly strong specialty beverages and seventy different types of vodkas can be savored at this Noho establishment. If you want to nibble on more than your date’s neck, try the tasty salt and pepper Calamari. You can always rely on the complimentary bowls of popcorn. if the high end cocktails have emptied your wallet.
Old Town Bar
45 E. 18th St.
(Broadway & Park Ave. So.)
Flatiron
212-529-6732
Authentic New York at it’s best. For over 110 years, Old Town Bar and Restaurant has welcomed generations of good ‘ol beer guzzling Manhattanites. Grandiose are the 16 foot ornate tin ceilings, 55 foot long mahogany/marble bar, and the giant urinals “fresh” from 1910. Pretentious attitude remains refreshingly minimal at this former Speak Easy. Grab an ale and juicy Bison burger while you enjoy tunes ranging from Jewel’s rendition of “Wild Horses” to the soulful melodies of Louis Armstrong. The walls are pasted with beer signs, political paraphernalia and photos of stars who have filmed here…Liam Nesson, Frank McCourt and Chloe Sevigny. Not only does this bar lure celebrities, it IS a celebrity. The neon sign was featured on Letterman’s Intro when he was on NBC. That’s good history!
RODEO BAR
375 3rd Ave.
(26th & 27th Sts.)
212-683-6500
Tread through the sawdust and peanut shells, grab a bottle of Dixie beer and hoedown to the tunes of this lively southern roadhouse. Great honky tonk bands with names like “Bastard Sons of Johnny Cash” play in a horse trailer imported from Vermont and are enjoyed by a melting pot including Good’ Ol boys, punk rockers, upper east side gentry and German tourists. Don’t let the giant stuffed Bison above the bar prevent you from ordering some top notch barbecued Tex Mex grub. According to the menu, “Rodeo bar employees are the baddest mofos walking this stupid planet”. The only thing missing from this Lone Star barn on Third Avenue is a mechanical bull. Can we at least sit on the stuffed Bison?
To answer that question. Yes. Yes we can.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Day 95 - Shall I Read Your Mind?
November 11th, 2009
I am cognizant that my blog readers are keenly aware and profound thinkers. There is so much more that unites us than just our precious virtual connection. I feel you and you feel me in ways that are ethical and legal. Most of the time. Yes, I do take your questions in my “Ask Jax” series but I know some of you might be too shy, busy or ashamed to submit your inquiries.
As a thank you for following my 365 blog entry challenge, I’m going to utilize day 95 To ANSWER QUESTIONS that you’re THINKING about right now. I will let intuition be my guide and everyone wins. You get to keep your anonymity and chances are others might benefit from my replies to your thoughts.
JAX'S ANSWERS TO YOUR THOUGHTS:
1. Yes, if we go to a Japanese restaurant and order swan and have leftovers that are wrapped in a tin foil origami swan…that is indeed full circle.
2. No sir, I’m not interested in joining you for a really moving John Tesh concert.
3. Oh I can help you out with that.. the capitol of Idaho is Boise.
4. IF I AM WRITING IN “ALL CAPS”..then yes, it’s safe to assume that I am indeed yelling at you.
5. Yes, it would be fun to ride on a luggage carousel.
6. No sir, I’d rather not quiet the room down and soothe your soul with jazz sounds that combine island passion and urban emotion.
7. Yes m’am. Rosemary is a delightful herb. There is none more woody, medicinal, savory and aromatic than this perennial plant.
8. Sir, that is totally inappropriate..and I’m not that limber.
9. I’d love to join you for a ceremony involving Pagan chants and Wiccan rituals.
10. No, I don’t believe that we’re related… that would be kind of awkward..right?
11. I do think Geraldine Ferraro would look great with cornrows
12. You are correct. Cleavage can be an economical accessory during these fiscally challenging times.
13. Yes, a still life of a bidet with fake fruit would be quite stunning.
14. Yes sir, if things aren’t running smoothly in your life..you are not accountable. Remember that deep down in your soul that it is Joe Jackson’s fault.
15. My mother’s maiden name? Addlestone. The 3 numbers on the back of my credit card? You’re a dick.
16. You want me to paint a portrait of you while you pensively stare at a tea kettle? My pleasure.
17. Yes, SARS does feel slighted that the Swine Flu is the new “in epidemic”.
18. Am I ready to rock? Actually, no. No I am not.
19. Yes, fake flowers are like the white zinfandel of the plant kingdom.
20. It is safe to assume that Bea Arthur and Estelle Getty have found each other at the Del Boca Vista retirement community in the sky.
I am cognizant that my blog readers are keenly aware and profound thinkers. There is so much more that unites us than just our precious virtual connection. I feel you and you feel me in ways that are ethical and legal. Most of the time. Yes, I do take your questions in my “Ask Jax” series but I know some of you might be too shy, busy or ashamed to submit your inquiries.
As a thank you for following my 365 blog entry challenge, I’m going to utilize day 95 To ANSWER QUESTIONS that you’re THINKING about right now. I will let intuition be my guide and everyone wins. You get to keep your anonymity and chances are others might benefit from my replies to your thoughts.
JAX'S ANSWERS TO YOUR THOUGHTS:
1. Yes, if we go to a Japanese restaurant and order swan and have leftovers that are wrapped in a tin foil origami swan…that is indeed full circle.
2. No sir, I’m not interested in joining you for a really moving John Tesh concert.
3. Oh I can help you out with that.. the capitol of Idaho is Boise.
4. IF I AM WRITING IN “ALL CAPS”..then yes, it’s safe to assume that I am indeed yelling at you.
5. Yes, it would be fun to ride on a luggage carousel.
6. No sir, I’d rather not quiet the room down and soothe your soul with jazz sounds that combine island passion and urban emotion.
7. Yes m’am. Rosemary is a delightful herb. There is none more woody, medicinal, savory and aromatic than this perennial plant.
8. Sir, that is totally inappropriate..and I’m not that limber.
9. I’d love to join you for a ceremony involving Pagan chants and Wiccan rituals.
10. No, I don’t believe that we’re related… that would be kind of awkward..right?
11. I do think Geraldine Ferraro would look great with cornrows
12. You are correct. Cleavage can be an economical accessory during these fiscally challenging times.
13. Yes, a still life of a bidet with fake fruit would be quite stunning.
14. Yes sir, if things aren’t running smoothly in your life..you are not accountable. Remember that deep down in your soul that it is Joe Jackson’s fault.
15. My mother’s maiden name? Addlestone. The 3 numbers on the back of my credit card? You’re a dick.
16. You want me to paint a portrait of you while you pensively stare at a tea kettle? My pleasure.
17. Yes, SARS does feel slighted that the Swine Flu is the new “in epidemic”.
18. Am I ready to rock? Actually, no. No I am not.
19. Yes, fake flowers are like the white zinfandel of the plant kingdom.
20. It is safe to assume that Bea Arthur and Estelle Getty have found each other at the Del Boca Vista retirement community in the sky.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Day 94 -Nothing Says I love You Like Declaring it on Facebook
November 10th, 2009
It’s always so nice to spend time with you on Facebook. Let's face it, this is where stars are born and legends are made. I wish Jesus had a Facebook page so(on Christmas) he could write the obligatory status update thanking everyone for the birthday wishes.
I debated even tapping into the Facebook universe for a blog topic as it is no secret that it will undoubtedly be overtaken by another self promoting ,voyeuristic and more desirable online networking community. I already fear that there will be a rumble between Facebook and Twitter. It would go down very similarly to the “Beat It” video choreography. Twitter’s most powerful weapon of all: simplicity. While Facebook ultimately wins with the help of the Fans of Bea Arthur.
I want Facebook to change their look again. I enjoyed the violent backlashes and mini revolutions when they dared to alter the familiar layout. I’d like to lead a revolt with the intention of reclaiming Newer Facebook back..that’s right...the one from the future. After winning that battle, I will time travel back in time to early 1900’s Tsarist Russia Facebook and join groups called “I Love my Babushka” and “Fan of Arranged Marriages”.
Let’s talk about this poking thing. It screams, “I am too lazy to see you in person, call you, write you a hand written letter, send you an email, text you or post a ‘I’m thinking of you but would prefer to put little to no effort into it’ post on your Facebook wall." Not only does it sound worthy of a sexual harassment lawsuit, poking is as pointless as searching for a job in this economy, a soundtrack for a silent film and Stedman.
Although I seem cynical about our favorite virtual addictive time waster, I guarantee that I will continue to Facebook the hell out of you. Truth be told, I’ve never felt this way about an online community before. Yes, I am a sensitive soul and you must know that I do feel bad about blowing off other online communities. Do Myspace and Friendster ever ask about me? Friendster is a mean drunk.. I learned that the hard way.
It’s always so nice to spend time with you on Facebook. Let's face it, this is where stars are born and legends are made. I wish Jesus had a Facebook page so(on Christmas) he could write the obligatory status update thanking everyone for the birthday wishes.
I debated even tapping into the Facebook universe for a blog topic as it is no secret that it will undoubtedly be overtaken by another self promoting ,voyeuristic and more desirable online networking community. I already fear that there will be a rumble between Facebook and Twitter. It would go down very similarly to the “Beat It” video choreography. Twitter’s most powerful weapon of all: simplicity. While Facebook ultimately wins with the help of the Fans of Bea Arthur.
I want Facebook to change their look again. I enjoyed the violent backlashes and mini revolutions when they dared to alter the familiar layout. I’d like to lead a revolt with the intention of reclaiming Newer Facebook back..that’s right...the one from the future. After winning that battle, I will time travel back in time to early 1900’s Tsarist Russia Facebook and join groups called “I Love my Babushka” and “Fan of Arranged Marriages”.
Let’s talk about this poking thing. It screams, “I am too lazy to see you in person, call you, write you a hand written letter, send you an email, text you or post a ‘I’m thinking of you but would prefer to put little to no effort into it’ post on your Facebook wall." Not only does it sound worthy of a sexual harassment lawsuit, poking is as pointless as searching for a job in this economy, a soundtrack for a silent film and Stedman.
Although I seem cynical about our favorite virtual addictive time waster, I guarantee that I will continue to Facebook the hell out of you. Truth be told, I’ve never felt this way about an online community before. Yes, I am a sensitive soul and you must know that I do feel bad about blowing off other online communities. Do Myspace and Friendster ever ask about me? Friendster is a mean drunk.. I learned that the hard way.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Day 93 - 1993
November 9th, 2009
Today is day 93 of my 365 day blog entry challenge. This number contains a hint of significance to me because I graduated high school in 1993. I attended Grimsley High ( you might recognized us as being ranked the 84th best public high school in the nation by Newsweek in 2008. ) It was at GHS that I learned how to put a condom on a banana in 9th grade health class. That’s right readers, #84 in the country! The school had quite a diverse population with an enrollment of around 1,600 students and a deep-rooted commitment to wanting to beat our rival, Page High School, in football. Generally, we lost. I blame it on our mascot, the Whirlie. Let’s face it, tornado-like symbols don’t really inspire excellence on the field. Yet Grimsley often kicked ass in the blood drives. So Page, you had football..but we beat you in blood.
it seems as if every year has a paella of significant events. Within a twelve month time frame, something interesting seems likely to occur. If not, rest assured that our givers of news will eagerly spice up some bland ”news” topic. What if we were given some type of teaser that would give us an idea of what to expect the following year?I was feeling nostalgic for the year 1993 and went deep inside my brain and imagined the pre-production for 1993 that took place in 1992.
In order to run with this concept, I needed to bring back Johnson and Phillips. I introduced them to you in “Day 16 - Bacon Fetish”, you grew to love them in“Day 43 - Take a Load Off Annie” and you felt a combination of complicated emotions for these guys by" Day 63 - You Hate Me. You Really Really Hate Me". As a reminder, they are reoccurring fictionalized (but real in my heart) ahead of their time marketing executives with a mutual interest in each other’s wives and unsubtle sexual innuendo for each other. Let’s just assume that the conceptualization of the events for the year 1993 took place in a Manhattan boardroom on December 31st, 1992. Out the window, there is a good view of the ball about to drop, joyously cold crowds and “Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve”.
Johnson: Phillips, I see big things for 1993! We’ll start off strong with the inauguration of our 42nd president of the united States, William Jefferson Clinton.
Phillips: Love it. Let’s throw in some scandal by showing a lot of pictures of Al and Tipper Gore French kissing.
Johnson: Excellent angle Phillips. Perhaps in a sequel we’ll add something I like to do with your wife. Think cigar related improper relations with an intern. But not yet. Too soon.
Phillips: We speak the same language my friend, my love. Let’s take a religious sect in Waco, Texas that will be lead by a man named David Koresh who believes himself to be its final prophet.
Johnson: Brilliant! He looks like Jesus so nothing bad can happen! Also, we should kill River Phoenix so his brother Joaquin can have a promising career.
Phillips: Yes. Joaquin. Love him. Nothing intense about that guy at all. Also, just for shits and giggles let’s throw in a 13-year-old Los Angeles boy that will accuse the King of Pop of fondling him.
Johnson: Damn you’re good Phillips. I want to fondle every hair on your back right now. But back to work!
Phillips: During 1993, you and I can unsuccessfully suppress our homoerotic tendencies by drinking an excess of a new alternative beer called Zima. It is sure to represent all that is straight and cool!
Johnson: Indeed. People will love this Zima as much as I love your wife’s pot roast and curling up with you when we took that well needed and deserved business trip to that cabin in Vermont. Now kiss me you fool...because 3-2-1...HAPPY NEW YEAR! Cigar?
Today is day 93 of my 365 day blog entry challenge. This number contains a hint of significance to me because I graduated high school in 1993. I attended Grimsley High ( you might recognized us as being ranked the 84th best public high school in the nation by Newsweek in 2008. ) It was at GHS that I learned how to put a condom on a banana in 9th grade health class. That’s right readers, #84 in the country! The school had quite a diverse population with an enrollment of around 1,600 students and a deep-rooted commitment to wanting to beat our rival, Page High School, in football. Generally, we lost. I blame it on our mascot, the Whirlie. Let’s face it, tornado-like symbols don’t really inspire excellence on the field. Yet Grimsley often kicked ass in the blood drives. So Page, you had football..but we beat you in blood.
it seems as if every year has a paella of significant events. Within a twelve month time frame, something interesting seems likely to occur. If not, rest assured that our givers of news will eagerly spice up some bland ”news” topic. What if we were given some type of teaser that would give us an idea of what to expect the following year?I was feeling nostalgic for the year 1993 and went deep inside my brain and imagined the pre-production for 1993 that took place in 1992.
In order to run with this concept, I needed to bring back Johnson and Phillips. I introduced them to you in “Day 16 - Bacon Fetish”, you grew to love them in“Day 43 - Take a Load Off Annie” and you felt a combination of complicated emotions for these guys by" Day 63 - You Hate Me. You Really Really Hate Me". As a reminder, they are reoccurring fictionalized (but real in my heart) ahead of their time marketing executives with a mutual interest in each other’s wives and unsubtle sexual innuendo for each other. Let’s just assume that the conceptualization of the events for the year 1993 took place in a Manhattan boardroom on December 31st, 1992. Out the window, there is a good view of the ball about to drop, joyously cold crowds and “Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve”.
Johnson: Phillips, I see big things for 1993! We’ll start off strong with the inauguration of our 42nd president of the united States, William Jefferson Clinton.
Phillips: Love it. Let’s throw in some scandal by showing a lot of pictures of Al and Tipper Gore French kissing.
Johnson: Excellent angle Phillips. Perhaps in a sequel we’ll add something I like to do with your wife. Think cigar related improper relations with an intern. But not yet. Too soon.
Phillips: We speak the same language my friend, my love. Let’s take a religious sect in Waco, Texas that will be lead by a man named David Koresh who believes himself to be its final prophet.
Johnson: Brilliant! He looks like Jesus so nothing bad can happen! Also, we should kill River Phoenix so his brother Joaquin can have a promising career.
Phillips: Yes. Joaquin. Love him. Nothing intense about that guy at all. Also, just for shits and giggles let’s throw in a 13-year-old Los Angeles boy that will accuse the King of Pop of fondling him.
Johnson: Damn you’re good Phillips. I want to fondle every hair on your back right now. But back to work!
Phillips: During 1993, you and I can unsuccessfully suppress our homoerotic tendencies by drinking an excess of a new alternative beer called Zima. It is sure to represent all that is straight and cool!
Johnson: Indeed. People will love this Zima as much as I love your wife’s pot roast and curling up with you when we took that well needed and deserved business trip to that cabin in Vermont. Now kiss me you fool...because 3-2-1...HAPPY NEW YEAR! Cigar?
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Day 92 - The Past That Bites You In The Ass!
November 8th, 2009
The Past That Bites You In The Ass!
By Jacqueline Kabat and Kenny Wade Marshall
(Gay Christopher and fag hag Sheila and film crew inside fancy NY apartment)
Sheila: Hi, I’m Sheila Jaffee!
Christopher: And I’m Christopher Lemmel! And we’re here in New York City’s
Both: Upper-West Side!
Sheila: Victor and Bernadette Smith-Bouvier have finally reached that time in their lives where everything is coming together..
Christopher: Victor just made junior partner at Weinstein-Weinstein-Weinstein & Gentile!
Sheila: Bernadette has found success with her at home business, Denim for Doggies, her own exclusive line of acid wash jean shorts for miniature canine breeds.
Christopher: God, I wish I had four legs!
Sheila: Silly Christopher! Word on the Equinox Sauna Blog is that you might just have three!
Christopher: Sheila! But, back to Victor and Bernadette!
Sheila: Due to the miracle of fertility drugs
Both: And selective reduction
Christopher: They’ve just had twins!
Sheila: And we’re about to give them the surprise of a lifetime!
Christopher: We’ve bribed their doorman
Sheila: Into letting us into their Junior 4
Christopher: on West 78th Street!
(Sheila opens the refrigerator door of the Smith-Bouvier kitchen making herself at home.)
Sheila: They’re just about to return from their fun day at the Museum of Natural History.
Moo-Goo-Gia Pan Christopher?
Christopher: Thanks Sheila! Victor and Bernadette have no idea that we are even here!
Both: Shhhhhhhhh!
Sheila: I hear a key in the door!
Christopher: Hide!
(Victor and Bernadette Smith-Bouvier enter each holding a baby.Bernadette has red hair..just make a note of that)
Victor: What a lovely day sweetheart.
Bernadette: I know honey. We started out doing the New York Times crossword puzzle.
Victor: And that was certainly a nice acceptance letter that the twins got in the mail.
Bernadette: What a relief that they are going to the most exclusive private high school in Manhattan.
Victor: Yeah. Class of 2021.
(Sheila and Christopher burst out of hiding together.)
Both: And your days about to get better!
Victor: What the F---?
Bernadette: Who are you? How did you get into our apartment?
Sheila: I’m Sheila Jaffee!
Christopher: And I’m Christopher Lemmel!
(Bernadette and Victor begin to notice the cameras.)
Bernadette: Oh My God!
Victor: We’re on TV!
Both: Yes, you are!!
Bernadette: You’re here for the HGTV free nursery upgrade! Oh, I just knew it!
Victor: Even though they said our ridiculously high income made us ineligible.
Sheila: Oh, guess again, Victor and Bernadette Smith-Bouvier!
Christopher: Although your current lifestyle has turned into what you dreamed it would be,
Sheila: We’ve got a tape of what you were doing in 1983!
Bernadette: What? 1983?
Sheila: Bernie, that’s the years between 1982 and 1984.
Victor: I think you best be leavin' now. Hand over the Moo-Goo-Gia Pan!
Christopher: Sheila, the tape.
Sheila: Christopher, you bet!
Both: Cause it’s time for….
(Sound Cue IN)
Voice-Over: The Past That Bites You In The Ass! This week’s episode, Victor Smith-Bouvier.
(Sound Cue OUT)
Christopher & Sheila: Play.
Voice-Over: After having an all night fraternity pledge event at Cornell which involved making love to various barnyard animals, Victor Smith-Bouvier consequently failed his Early Irish American History midterm due to lack of sleep and a mild case of scurvy. Professor McGuiness had no sympathy for young Victor Smith-Bouvier’s plight. To avenge his failing grade, young Victor Smith-Bouvier drugged her with rubber cement and forced her against her will to visit every North Eastern miniature golf course on the eastern seaboard.
This was followed by even more sadistic behavior on the part of young Victor Smith-Bouvier as he subjected a defenseless McGuiness into bad food and horrific entertainment at Chucky Cheese’s chain restaurants in a three state radius. As a result, Professor Connie McGuiness, Ph.D., was found dead by an attendant underneath the skee-ball machine as he attempted to refill the ticket dispenser. At the scene authorities noticed that she had been gagged with a red Putt-Putt standard issue windmill golf ball. On her forehead was scribed Rouge Ripper in what appeared to be marinara sauce. The “I” was dotted with a pepperoni.
Bernadette: Huhhhhh….
Voice-Over: What resulted was a series of baffling murders committed against ginger women by Victor Smith-Bouvier, otherwise known as the Rouge Ripper.
(Christopher and Sheila stop the tape.)
Sheila: I smell Oscar!
Christopher: You can say that again Sheila!
Bernadette: But, wait. How can my husband be the Rouge Ripper? Look at me. (Points to red hair)
Christopher: Even the most seasoned
Sheila: Sadistic
Christopher: Serial killer knows….
Both: Sometimes the carpet doesn’t match the drapes!
Victor: They’re right on both accounts honey. I have been responsible for the murders of 42 red headed women in the 80’s, 90’s, and most recently, twenty-five minutes ago in the paleontology exhibit at the Museum of Natural History.
Bernadette: Well, that’s just great. What are the other mothers at Gymboree going to think?
Christopher: Well, Mrs. Smith-Bouvier, sorry to say….
Sheila: That’s not our problem and we’ve gotta be on our way!
Christopher: We’re about to tell an upper-eastside socialite that her real-estate tycoon husband
Sheila: has been laundering money from the American Cancer Society
Christopher: FUN! Well, it looks like the two of you have a lot to talk about. Right, Sheila?
Sheila: Silly Christopher! I know it’s hard to say goodbye to us. That’s why we’re going to leave you with
Christopher: Christopher Lemmel and Sheila Jaffee sing your favorite folklore hits from the French Indian War, Volume II.
Sheila: Very popular in Europe.
(Christopher and Sheila hand the Smith-Bouviers a copy of the CD. They Exit. They both re-enter)
Christopher: Oh, almost forgot something!
(Christopher takes the Moo-Goo-Gye Pan.)
(Awkward pause)
Bernadette: Well, that explains the missing Irish nanny incident. Thanks Victor. It’s so hard to find a decent fucking nanny I could just die!
Vincent: Would you do that for me?
(Lights slowly fade out.)
The Past That Bites You In The Ass!
By Jacqueline Kabat and Kenny Wade Marshall
(Gay Christopher and fag hag Sheila and film crew inside fancy NY apartment)
Sheila: Hi, I’m Sheila Jaffee!
Christopher: And I’m Christopher Lemmel! And we’re here in New York City’s
Both: Upper-West Side!
Sheila: Victor and Bernadette Smith-Bouvier have finally reached that time in their lives where everything is coming together..
Christopher: Victor just made junior partner at Weinstein-Weinstein-Weinstein & Gentile!
Sheila: Bernadette has found success with her at home business, Denim for Doggies, her own exclusive line of acid wash jean shorts for miniature canine breeds.
Christopher: God, I wish I had four legs!
Sheila: Silly Christopher! Word on the Equinox Sauna Blog is that you might just have three!
Christopher: Sheila! But, back to Victor and Bernadette!
Sheila: Due to the miracle of fertility drugs
Both: And selective reduction
Christopher: They’ve just had twins!
Sheila: And we’re about to give them the surprise of a lifetime!
Christopher: We’ve bribed their doorman
Sheila: Into letting us into their Junior 4
Christopher: on West 78th Street!
(Sheila opens the refrigerator door of the Smith-Bouvier kitchen making herself at home.)
Sheila: They’re just about to return from their fun day at the Museum of Natural History.
Moo-Goo-Gia Pan Christopher?
Christopher: Thanks Sheila! Victor and Bernadette have no idea that we are even here!
Both: Shhhhhhhhh!
Sheila: I hear a key in the door!
Christopher: Hide!
(Victor and Bernadette Smith-Bouvier enter each holding a baby.Bernadette has red hair..just make a note of that)
Victor: What a lovely day sweetheart.
Bernadette: I know honey. We started out doing the New York Times crossword puzzle.
Victor: And that was certainly a nice acceptance letter that the twins got in the mail.
Bernadette: What a relief that they are going to the most exclusive private high school in Manhattan.
Victor: Yeah. Class of 2021.
(Sheila and Christopher burst out of hiding together.)
Both: And your days about to get better!
Victor: What the F---?
Bernadette: Who are you? How did you get into our apartment?
Sheila: I’m Sheila Jaffee!
Christopher: And I’m Christopher Lemmel!
(Bernadette and Victor begin to notice the cameras.)
Bernadette: Oh My God!
Victor: We’re on TV!
Both: Yes, you are!!
Bernadette: You’re here for the HGTV free nursery upgrade! Oh, I just knew it!
Victor: Even though they said our ridiculously high income made us ineligible.
Sheila: Oh, guess again, Victor and Bernadette Smith-Bouvier!
Christopher: Although your current lifestyle has turned into what you dreamed it would be,
Sheila: We’ve got a tape of what you were doing in 1983!
Bernadette: What? 1983?
Sheila: Bernie, that’s the years between 1982 and 1984.
Victor: I think you best be leavin' now. Hand over the Moo-Goo-Gia Pan!
Christopher: Sheila, the tape.
Sheila: Christopher, you bet!
Both: Cause it’s time for….
(Sound Cue IN)
Voice-Over: The Past That Bites You In The Ass! This week’s episode, Victor Smith-Bouvier.
(Sound Cue OUT)
Christopher & Sheila: Play.
Voice-Over: After having an all night fraternity pledge event at Cornell which involved making love to various barnyard animals, Victor Smith-Bouvier consequently failed his Early Irish American History midterm due to lack of sleep and a mild case of scurvy. Professor McGuiness had no sympathy for young Victor Smith-Bouvier’s plight. To avenge his failing grade, young Victor Smith-Bouvier drugged her with rubber cement and forced her against her will to visit every North Eastern miniature golf course on the eastern seaboard.
This was followed by even more sadistic behavior on the part of young Victor Smith-Bouvier as he subjected a defenseless McGuiness into bad food and horrific entertainment at Chucky Cheese’s chain restaurants in a three state radius. As a result, Professor Connie McGuiness, Ph.D., was found dead by an attendant underneath the skee-ball machine as he attempted to refill the ticket dispenser. At the scene authorities noticed that she had been gagged with a red Putt-Putt standard issue windmill golf ball. On her forehead was scribed Rouge Ripper in what appeared to be marinara sauce. The “I” was dotted with a pepperoni.
Bernadette: Huhhhhh….
Voice-Over: What resulted was a series of baffling murders committed against ginger women by Victor Smith-Bouvier, otherwise known as the Rouge Ripper.
(Christopher and Sheila stop the tape.)
Sheila: I smell Oscar!
Christopher: You can say that again Sheila!
Bernadette: But, wait. How can my husband be the Rouge Ripper? Look at me. (Points to red hair)
Christopher: Even the most seasoned
Sheila: Sadistic
Christopher: Serial killer knows….
Both: Sometimes the carpet doesn’t match the drapes!
Victor: They’re right on both accounts honey. I have been responsible for the murders of 42 red headed women in the 80’s, 90’s, and most recently, twenty-five minutes ago in the paleontology exhibit at the Museum of Natural History.
Bernadette: Well, that’s just great. What are the other mothers at Gymboree going to think?
Christopher: Well, Mrs. Smith-Bouvier, sorry to say….
Sheila: That’s not our problem and we’ve gotta be on our way!
Christopher: We’re about to tell an upper-eastside socialite that her real-estate tycoon husband
Sheila: has been laundering money from the American Cancer Society
Christopher: FUN! Well, it looks like the two of you have a lot to talk about. Right, Sheila?
Sheila: Silly Christopher! I know it’s hard to say goodbye to us. That’s why we’re going to leave you with
Christopher: Christopher Lemmel and Sheila Jaffee sing your favorite folklore hits from the French Indian War, Volume II.
Sheila: Very popular in Europe.
(Christopher and Sheila hand the Smith-Bouviers a copy of the CD. They Exit. They both re-enter)
Christopher: Oh, almost forgot something!
(Christopher takes the Moo-Goo-Gye Pan.)
(Awkward pause)
Bernadette: Well, that explains the missing Irish nanny incident. Thanks Victor. It’s so hard to find a decent fucking nanny I could just die!
Vincent: Would you do that for me?
(Lights slowly fade out.)
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