Baby, baby, it's a wild Web

I recently had a good reminder about being careful of what I say here in my little blog.

One friend tells another friend something in confidence regarding the company she works for. The second friend thinks about what the first friend says, becomes outraged and posts a scathing blog on the subject. Friend 2 rethinks, and deletes the post. But not before it is spotted by a third party who copies the post and sends it to Friend 1 - "Isn't this your Friend 2?" The information it contained is damaging to both Friend 1 and the company she works for. How far did it spread? Who knows? And who knows where it may be stored on some server to raise its ugly head?

I doubt that Friend 2 intended to do damage. She’s a little hot headed, and posted with both guns blazing. And I would bet that like many armchair bloggers like me who post mainly for the amusement of our friends and the occasional passing friendly stranger, she didn’t think anyone would ever see her little rant. We all get this sense of anonymity out here. Like wearing a Mardi Gras mask, it can lead you to be a more devil-may-care version of yourself. But the truth is it’s all out there, and anybody could potentially see it.

It’s always good to stop a second and think before you post. You may not want to put anything out there that you don’t want your grandma, your next door neighbor or a potential future employer to see. Because Grandma may have broadband. You may have look your next door neighbor in the eye at the next block party. And your potential future employer may look you up on Facebook, and decide you don’t have so much potential. It’s harder to be Anonymous these days.

Groundswell starts here

Earlier this summer I said something about choosing something live and local for your entertainment spending this year. And I’m standing behind this. With one exception. I’m going to boost for Julie & Julia, sight unseen. And not just because I find the name charming, ahem. My reasons are twofold, and I would express them thusly:

1. It is a “chick flick” that is neither a romantic comedy, nor a “woman triumphs after being beaten by every man she knows and then being stricken by a rare disease” glorified movie of the week. Frankly, barf. Tired of those. You know all those movie executives say, we don’t make “women movies” because women don’t go to the movies. Ya know why? You bore us. You have 2 story lines, and we’ve seen them. Again and again. Do you have any tricks I haven't seen? Sure, I can go to see indie movies to see a more rounded view, and I do, thank you very much. But sometimes I just want a stupid bit of fluff. And the bits of fluff I’m being offered from the big studios are tired old dust bunnies. I’ve got real hope that Julie & Julia will break out of this stale formula.
2. Have you seen Amy Adams and Meryl Streep in the promotional pieces? I knew Meryl could play down her looks. But who knew that Amy Adams could dial it down that much. She looks NORMAL. Not uglied-up-for-the-Oscars. Just normal. Unlike, oh, say, Katherine Heigl in that thing with Gerard Butler (and sorry, GB, not even for you would I see that thing). I’m supposed to believe she has trouble getting a man? Really? Because she doesn’t know how to flirt? Sorry. She could get a guy looking like that if she had Asperger’s Syndrome and a mean case of Tourette’s. What a joke. Amy Adams (who can look like an old school screen goddess on the red carpet) looks like any one of a dozen people I know. And I don’t know if that’s talent or balls, but she’s got a lot of whichever it is. And Meryl Streep, I love it that she has both the talent and balls to put on that brown, Toni-permed wig, and rock it out as a true icon (shout out to Julia Child!).

So I’m just going to talk up this movie. Buzz has to start somewhere. And since my pops has already said he wants me to wait to go see it with him, I have hopes that this will be a cross-over chick flick. Check it out, folks.
http://www.julieandjulia.com/

There are yellow toes in Texas

I'm just going to be a nice person today. This particular gal gets enough flak, and I'm not going to add to the barrage (other than to say that she's put on a couple of needed ounces, and good for her), so I've cropped this down to the essentials.

Holy Hannah.

Are those open-toed cowboy boots? Sweet Alamo. I'm a native Texan and a Dallas resident, and we're not know for our subtlety. We think Denim & Diamonds balls are formal. And even I find these bastardized leatherette confusions appalling.

Number one, you can't wear sh** kickers that are open toed. Form; function. Form; function. You do not want to meet up with a cowpie with your tootsies unprotected. The cows would laugh at you.

Number two, did we not learn our lesson with the spike-heeled construction boots? In pink, no less. Foo-wah, people. Unless you are in the Sexiest Women with Blue Collars issue of Playboy, or doing a pole routine to She Works Hard for the Money, there's just no call for it. Work shoes are for work. Ho shoes are for, well other kinds of work. And ne'er the twain shall meet.

Geek thrills

In all the years since Star Wars came out, and in all the varying levels of geekdom I've achieved, I don't think I've ever seen this particular picture. Talk about a pop culture relic.

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/herocomplex/2009/07/a-long-time-ago.html

All together in their civvies. Young and innocent. And no idea what a cultural tsunami they'd be riding.

Geez louise. Carrie Fisher must be 4'11".

Shrew Business

So, tonight the weather gods smiled and a cool front dropped the temps enough that I was able to run out and do the second show that Shakespeare Dallas - Taming of the Shrew. It's one of my favorites.

Well, one of my favorites up until the end.

This production was really very good. Petruchio was kinda sexy*, in a Jeremy Pivenish sort of way, but 20% less arrogant douche baggish. And Kate was all red hair, long legs and a tiny waist. She was like comic book super heroine. Which is perfect, as you watch her giving the men in her life flaming hell for trying to boss her. She's a tough cookie. Which is why I've always found the end so sad. It's like watching Superman brought down by kryptonite. She's all fuss and fight until Petruchio busts open a can of crazy ass combined with smooching on her. Child doesn't know which end is up. By the end, she's got a nasty case of Stockholm syndrome and is talking a whole load of crap about jumping any time your man says "froggy". . . oooo, just steams me even thinking about it.

But up until then, the production was very physical, very sexy. Nice. And setting it in the wild west was a nice touch. Sometimes transposing Shakespeare to another time and place is more trouble than it's worth, but here it came off without a hitch. They played spaghetti western music every time Petruchio made an entrance. And Kate's costumes leaned heavily on corsets with riding pants. Very young Barbara Stanwyck.

Between Merry Wives of Windsor and Taming of the Shrew, I'd have to say that I'm pretty sold on Shakespeare Dallas. Not sure if I'm sold enough to do their production of Julius Caesar in the fall, but zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Wha? Huh? Oh, sorry. Fell asleep just thinking about it. But I'll definitely be looking forward to next summer.

* Please note, when costuming your leading man as a character that should be at least fairly guapo, you can't just look at him from the front. If you're going to put him in tight black jeans, make sure that he has the touchey to pull them off. Otherwise, you've got a blocking nightmare on you hands trying to keep him facing the audience all night. And really, there's no shame in getting him a little help. Two words: shape and wear. There are all sorts of foundation garments that can give a man a little assistance. It's not just a codpiece that can be stuffed.