Friday, May 22, 2009

Really. Is there any point in blogging when this stuff writes itself?

Okay, I just heard this. It has to be a joke. Bristol Palin and Candies shoes are teaming up to advocate against teen pregnancy.


Okay, so slutty shoes* and a girl who now believes in abstinence (again . . . belatedly) because being a teen mom is hard, you guys, are joining forces.

Okay, so for anyone who doesn't believe that Americans are completely fuqd up about sex, I'd like to enter into evidence Exhibit A - the Justice League-style pairing of a purveyor ho gear and the International Poster Girl for Locking the Barn Door After the Cow Has Bolted. Makes perfect sense.

* For the record, I think Candies are tres adorable, and perfectly kicky for an evening out at the clubs. But you don't see nuns wearing them either. Oh, and did I mention that Britney Spears is there spokes person? But, hey. Brit was married before she had kids, y'all.

Representing for the Big D - How ya like us now?!?!?

I am just all out of proportion pleased. My dear little Theatre 3 is reviewed in today's Wall Street Journal.

How cool is that? I read Terry Teachout's theater column, even though I'll never get to see any of the shows he reviews (or at least thought I never would), just because I like hearing what's going on, and I like his writing style. Plus, he's admitted that he likes Buffy the Vampire Slayer, so I suspect him and me are right here, eye to eye, baby. And occasionally, I get the whiff of what productions are hot, and will eventually amble their way into the provinces (e.g., Dallas).
But what to my wondering eyes should appear? A review of T3's production of Lost in the Stars. Who knew? Such a gas. Like when you're watching a movie and suddenly realize, "Hey, I've been there!" Or it's like Teachout went to one of my niece's school shows and gave it a thumb's up. Weird, but fun. Well, I just feel like a proud auntie.
I've got tickets for Lost in the Stars this weekend. I was a little wary, because, frankly, a musical based on Cry the Beloved Country just didn't sound like a toe tapper. But now I'm all excited. I may even dress nice. (Okay. Probably not.)

Awww. Lucky.

There’s an article in the Wall Street Journal today about the Obama family getting to pick art from the Hirshorn and the National Gallery in Washington to display in the family residence of the White House.

Holy cow! That’s one hell of a perq!!

My eyes just get googly thinking of being able to go to some of the best collections in the country and just borrow anything I liked. I’m sure the Da Vinci would be off limits, but there’s crazy good stuff to pick from besides that. “I’ll take something from the Hudson River School and a Wyeth for the living room. And a Sargent for my bedroom. Is that a Jasper Johns? Great, the downstairs powder room needed a little something.” And I have a great stairwell that would be perfect for a Calder mobile. Of course, security is probably a little tighter at 1700 Pennsylvania than at my digs.

My crazy love for museums is probably going to lead me to see the new Night at the Museum: Battle for the Smithsonian some time in the next week. The Smithsonian is one of my favorite places on earth. And the Night at the Museum movies really key into my alone with all that fantastic stuff fantasies. I read The Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler as a kid and never recovered. I’m just hoping they have the giant squid come to life. Loved the giant squid.

And you know what? As I’m thinking about it, it’s just been too long since I’ve had a chance to go to a museum. I noticed the Kimbell has Art & Love in Renaissance art going. That just sounds good. Right on! Field trip!!

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Seriously. What's the worst that could happen?

Well, since it seems to be a day for pop culture – the Jon & Kate + 8 thing. Whoo. Not pretty.

And here’s the thing. When OctoMom spawned it was a big point (among many) that she was a single parent. These folks have 8 kids as a couple.


Nobody is guaranteed to stay a couple. Divorce is alive and well in America. It can hit a couple hard. Especially one that’s under stress, from, oh, say, something like, I don’t know – raising 8 kids. And suddenly that 2 parent household that was able to cope with all those children becomes 2 single parent homes. The already deep waters of divorce get fathoms deeper with each kid added into the equation. Even with the most amicable of divorces, moving 2 or 3 kids around in a custody arrangement is difficult. Imagine trying to do that with 8. You get 4 and I get 4, then we switch? I don’t see that working. And if one parent only has partial custody, how does any one kid see that parent enough in a weekend with 8 other kids competing for attention?

I’m sure they went in with every good intention. And expecting that their marriage would last. But sometimes the worst does happen. And in this case, one divorce, 10 casualties. 8 who didn't have any choice in the matter.

It's just a silly singing contest, but . . .

Well, looks like Kris Allen took American Idol. That’s nice. He seems like a nice kid, with a lot of talent. I know there was a lot of chatter about Adam Lambert as the first GAY AMERICAN IDOL. Which would have been nice too.

Based strictly on talent, I think there was a lot of parity there. I’ve heard them both. Adam could be the second coming of Freddie Mercury. And from me, that’s a huge compliment. He’s got rock and roll instincts and an artists approach to music. And while Kris may be less showy, he has an ability to convey a sense of intimacy even in a large venue and draws an audience in close. There’s room in my iPod for both of these guys.

But even though Adam could have been in a position to be a great role model as the winner (and truly, I think he'll do just fine on his own), and I’m all about that, if I was an Idol voting kind of person, I’d have laid my text down for Kris. The whole nail polish thing? Got me right here. Because, in a situation where he had an opportunity to use divisiveness and prejudice to his advantage, he chose friendship and good sportsmanship. He’s a tolerant, conservative, Christian evangelical. That’s like voting for a unicorn. If they ever existed, I was pretty sure they were now extinct. If the Christian community is right that the media neglects their perspective, this is the truly side that doesn’t get shown. A side that is, if not liberal, then at least tolerant of the views and choices of others.

Some kids are going to be gay. And some are going to be Christian. And that’s a community of young people who may be in even bigger need of a positive role model than gay teens.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

When I grow up

I've been giving it a lot of thought lately. Second acts. Maybe it's turning 40. And I'm thinking what I want to do with the second half of my life. I kind of had a loose goal/dream in mind that I'd have my own home by the time I was 40. Surprises the pee-whaker-doo out of me that I did that one. And maybe, I can use that kind of mojo to have a second act ready to roll by the time I'm 50. 50's a nice round number. A nice place to start a new career.

Because I have an absolute terror of retiring. Frankly, I think you retire, you die. Sure, people say you can enjoy your hobbies or charity work or whatever. I think I need something more structured. I have to get out of bed in the morning, because if I don't I'll get fired. Nobody ever got fired from a hobby.

But I don't think I can do this admin thing until I'm 80-something. Kind of depresses me to think about that. In a sort of "f*** me" sort of way. Like being 70 and answering phones? F*** me. Not that it's a bad gig. But I've kind of done it. I need a new horizon.

So I'm starting to put out feelers. Investigating. And I'm in a better place than I was the last time I did this. At 18, I had no clue who I was, let alone who I wanted to be. I've spent a few years figuring that out. I'm not quite completely comfortable in my own skin yet. But it's not out of the question that I'll get there some day now either. I kind of think I will. And I'd like a career that would be suitable for that person that I'm growing into.

I don't have anything conclusive yet. Just a lot of guesses. I made my first baby step today and contacted a university. Kind of freaked me out a little. I've been out of school so long, and had thought I'd sang "no more pencils, no more books" for the last time. But I want to do this right. And more education will lay a foundation.

I'm excited. Scared, but excite.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Ding - a - ling

So, I was riding the DART train up to the Wildflower Fest. I was only going a couple of stops so I was standing. There was a couple seated next to me. Kind of your average American looking couple.

On the train they have those “stop request” strips. On a bus, you push the strip and in lights up a panel so that the driver knows somebody wants off at the next stop. On the DART, they don’t do anything, but are still functional. Hitting one is usually a rookie mistake for a new rider.

Or, if you’re a bit of an idiot, you hit it a few times to tease your significant other.

If you’re a GIANT idiot with distinct douche bag leanings, you jam on it for 3 and a half minutes, while you grin at her like a demented lemur. (And as a side note, you have no idea just how long 3 minutes is until you've heard ding-ding-ding-ding from station to station.)

There is absolutely no shame in being a bit of an idiot. Everybody does it every once in awhile. I’m sure even Hugh Jackman has his bit of an idiot moments. And if your SO has one of these moments, you smile, say “You’re an idiot” and then make him hold your purse at the mall in revenge. That’s how you make a relationship work.

But if you’re SO is a GIANT grinning lemur of an idiot, I just don’t understand how you make that work. What kind of personality traits could he possibly have that could make up for that kind of behavior? My instinct was to turn to her and say “Get out. Get out now.” Cause if your man is willing to embarrass you like that by acting like a 200 lb. 2-year old in public, in front of God and mass transit riders, and gives you the malicious grin while doing it . . . not good.

Maybe people are right and I’m too picky. Maybe this is why I’m still single. But frankly, I wouldn’t be having it. But if it means I wouldn’t have to put up with 40 odd years of this kind of thing, I’ll own it.

What the H-E-double toothpicks is going on here, skippy?

I’m kind of weirded out by what a melee this year’s TV cancellations are. Shows are dropping like flies. And getting saved at the last second. And changing networks. Or getting renewed for partial seasons. (Loving the partial seasons btw. A trick they picked up from cable, and is, in my opinion, very effective.) The only way I’ve been able to keep up is checking EW’s Ausiello Files ( for the score.

I honestly have no clue what I’ll be watching next fall. I have this deep-seated fear that budget concerns are going to make the tube a reality wasteland. I live reality. Not a big fan. Oh, well, granted there are a few gems, but dammit, I want scripted TV too.

At this point, all I can say is thank heavens for USA. More and more I find myself pulled in by their “characters welcome” campaign. Of course, Burn Notice. Best show going as far as I’m concerned. And I’ve gotten hooked by In Plain Sight. Wasn’t loving it at first, but a friend told me to give it a second look, and I’m starting to get it. Especially, Marshal the Marshall. Starting to find I have a taste for that tall drinka water. Plus, they have a kick ass secretary now, and I like seeing her represent.

I can just tell setting up the DVR is going to be a nightmare come September. Adding the new. Deleting the old. Deciding if the new kid is worth allocating the memory space to. Ay-yi-yi. What did we do before DVRs?

Monday, May 18, 2009

Wildflower Festival - Every little thing gonna be alright

Okay, so. Music fest. I saw so much music, I don’t think I could give a coherent overview of the whole weekend. 7 bands that I went to see deliberately, and another 2 or 3 incidentally. My ears are full, and my dogs are tired. I’d be totally useless at something like Coachella or Bonaroo. I just don’t have the stamina. But there were definitely some high points (and low) that I thought I’d share.

The Kildares kicked it off with Celtic rock. Which I’m totally behind. You know what I’m not so much behind? Sexy-man bagpipe players. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a little bagpipe. And in some Celtic rock bands, it adds this kind of peaty funk. But in my humble opinion, a bagpiper should be like a bassist. Stand back. Lay your groove down. Maybe nod a little every once in awhile. Be cool. Not the Kildares. Their guy was in the basic Dallas guy club uniform (dark tailored shirt with a few open, cuffs flipped, boot cut jeans, shaved head, dark glasses – no that look isn’t dead here yet), and he was really prone to the rock and roll power lunge. Legs splayed, one knee bent towards the audience. Which is very effective on lead guitar. Not so much for a guy playing the bagpipes. Just plain weird.

There are bands who just play the music. And there are bands that put on a show. When you get a band that does both well, they deserve to be putting out music as long as they want. And Hoobastank deserves a Green Day style comeback. Total package. If I ever get a band, I’m totally buying those boxes that you put at the front of the stage and stand on during your solo. It also doesn’t hurt when it’s an outdoor show and the wind is blowing just right to blow back your shirt like you planned it. Awesome.

Brief public service announcement:
If you are ever at a concert and some girl comes up and punches you in the face out of the blue, it may be because you have a voice like galvanized nails pounding into people’s foreheads and you never stop to breath, let alone shut up. Not that it would be me. I’m a lady. But some folks don’t have my iron-like self-control.

And while I’m in bitch mode, when a group covers a band whose major songs include Caress Me Down, Date Rape and Smoke 2 Joints, don’t bring the kids. Not appropriate. Are You a Badfish Too? is no 1 Fish, 2 Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. And I know the little ones love the reggae. Put on 3 Little Birds and watch the kiddos dance. But Sublime is not child friendly. And the fact that the air was getting a little thick is not good either. It’ll stunt their growth. Good show though.

And last but not least. The Wailers. Great show. There’s actually only one original band member still touring. But it was really nice to hear that music played live and with heart. They did the entire original Exodus album. Needless to say, some of the best. Everybody was dancing and feeling good. Well, I was butt dancing and feeling good. By Sunday afternoon, I was so tired, I couldn’t get my bohonkus off the grass. The guy who was singing the Bob Marley parts was pretty young. When he first came out he was wearing a hoodie and big sunglasses. And the band stage was in full sun. And I’m thinking, What up with that? Why doesn’t he take off that jacket? But as he goes, I start to notice he’s kinda . . . mmm. Pale? Then he takes off the jacket, and yeah. He looks more or less white. But you know. In this day and age, who can tell? Maybe he’s half black, a quarter, Heinz 57 racial heritage, one of those white dudes who deep in his soul just knows he’s really black. Whatever. He had the pipes and 3 songs in, I don't think anyone even thought much about it. I'm still humming along. And it was a fanatastic way to top off the weekend.

TIME: Quotes of the Day