Christmas Thoughts (mostly about TV stuff)

The holiday season is upon us again.  I am not going to be jumping on the Happy Holiday/Merry Christmas argument.  My only comment there is it's nice to be wished something positive.  If someone wants me to have a happy day on the 25th of December and indicates it by saying Merry Christmas, why fight it.  Heck, it's a day on the calendar.  A general Happy Holidays is just as welcome.  It's the greeting and the intent that are important.

I started introducing the kids to some Christmas entertainment last year.  We watched It's a Wonderful Life (now the movie Victoria considers her favorite), a version of the same with a female lead played my Marlo Thomas, Miracle on 34th street (both the original and the 1974 David Hartman/Sebastian Cabot vehicle), Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol, Scrooged, Elf, Santa Claus:  The Movie, Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, A Christmas Story, An American Christmas Carol (with Henry Winkler in the Scrooge persona), the Schwarzenegger opus Jingle All the Way,  and most of the TV fare.  We decided to continue the tradition this year.  So far we have watched A Christmas Story, Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer, Holiday Commercial Countdown, and Rudolph.  New for this year (and there will be repeats) include White Christmas, Polar Express, Flintstones' Christmas Carol, Emmet Otter, Fred Claus, Four Christmases, Arthur Christmas, The Santa Clause, Home Alone, and perhaps George and I will take in Die Hard.  I am also delighting them with some sitcom Christmas episodes.  And the list keeps growing.

I mention all of this because last year we started taking a different view (for me at least) of the Christmas fare.  Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, what a horrible story.  The poor reindeer is ridiculed not only by his reindeer friends but his own father makes him cover up who he really is.  Santa Claus pretty much tells him he can't be part of the team.  And the misfit toys.  Just bad.  Interesting observation the kids made.  They said they get some of the idea behind the toys (square wheels on a train) but, as one of them pointed out, Charles in the Box not Jack doesn't make him misfit, just misnamed.  And the bird that swims?  Hmm, like a duck?  And then there's the elf who is mocked.  Is it my imagination or is this a slight toward the Jews?  I mean he is the only one with a small nose (either a reference to plastic surgery or a way to differentiate based on the nose) and he wants to be a dentist.  Think about it.  Of course, once the truly hated and bemoaned Rudolph can help others, then he is suddenly a hero.  Come on, you know there is still whispering going on after the final credits roll.

Frosty the Snowman.  Here we have a magical snowman and a bunch of kids (who just head off across town, not watching street lights, one runs off to the North Pole without even alerting her parents) are constantly trying to take possession of a hat that is not their property.  I believe we call that stealing.

The Little Drummer Boy has always been a favorite Carol of mine but one needs to step back and wonder, what kind of present is drum playing to a family with a newborn who probably just wants the kid to go to sleep.  I know when my kids were infants the last thing I would want would be a kid playing the drum in the house.  Just Sayin'

I will not show my kids movies where the premise is that Christmas won't occur because Santa is unable to deliver presents (sure all of these have some little piece of that but it isn't the thrust of the movie).  I just think that is ridiculous.  How can the lack of presents invalidate a religious holiday.  I remember as a kid seeing a preview for a movie (might have been the Year Without a Santa Claus) where Santa shows up at some kid's house in street clothes and says "Christmas won't be coming this year."  I was dumbfounded  How the hell is that possible?

Final thought for the moment, the world where parents accept there being no Santa Claus but he really does exist (Elf, Grandma Got Run Over . . . , etc.)  How in these worlds are the extra presents under the tree explained away.  I mean, the parents get some number of toys for the kids and suddenly little Billy is playing with a truck neither of them purchased.  They have to wonder where that came from.  Perhaps it creates a fight between the parents.  "Why did you buy him that extra toy?  We agreed on just a few?  He didn't need another truck?  Who the hell is Billy?" 

Things to think about.

Looking forward to continuing watching and destroying these holiday chestnuts with my kids.

Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas!!!

Math vs. The Pill

I once thought about a village that practiced birth control based on the theories of mathematics.  There is a theory that pretty much states in order for an object to go from one place to another it must first go half the distance to that destination.  Try it, it works.  Then, in order to reach that destination you need to travel 1/2 of the remaining distance.  And then one half of that remaining distance and so on.  Given this, the object will never actually reach the destination, just get infinitesimally close.  Apply this principle to the sperm cell fertilizing the egg.  Not only does it need to reach the egg, it needs to penetrate the egg.  But it can't.  It barely makes it to the egg.  And for years, the application of this principle served as the perfect means of birth control.  Until the population started to die out.  the residents grew older, it was mathematically impossible for them to procreate, they were distraught.  And the village and its culture would have died off entirely until the came up with a solution.  They decided to adopt.


And for those of you who might remember me from Algebra I and II, this was where my mind went when I looked off into space, pencil eraser between my teeth. 

And yes, I am Still Pissed . . .

On the way to school today we heard a track from Return of the Jedi.  It's from the scene where Luke is heading off to confront Vader and Leia tries to stop him.  I will paraphrase as I did in the car as the music played.

"But you have a power I don't understand and I'll never have."

"Yes, you do .  The Force is strong in my family, my father has it, I have it, (long dramatic pause as he looks deeply at her and realizes they swapped spit a few years back) and my sister has it"

"Yes, I know, I've always knows (this is the point where Victoria yells out "and you still kissed him, ewww!")"

"Why must you confront him?  Run. Far away.  Get out of this place"

"No I must face him.  There is good in him.  I have felt it"

And then I lost it.  What the fu . . .  (I realized the kids were in the car) . . . hell!!  And look at that.  She doesn't understand it and never has it and he ends up running far away!!

Oh, damn, I have to get this out of my system!!

I'll say it again, it wasn't a bad movie, but it WASN'T a Star Wars movie.

Equal Oppurtunity Offender

If you follow this blog, are a Facebook friend of mine, or have ever just met me, you know that I operate pretty much without a filter.  If I find something humorous or observable, I will state it.  I never mean to offend but hell, all humor is based on some sort of pain.  I actually wrote a paper in college called "I Only Laugh When It Hurts" describing that very premise.  My influences growing up were Bill Cosby (sorry, but he was a pretty funny guy), George Carlin, Woody Allen, Alan Sherman, and Tom Lehrer.  Not to mention The Smothers Brothers, Laugh In, Pat Paulsen, and Early Saturday Night Live.  These are my roots.  I learned from all of this (and my Mom who had such a cutting wit) that it needs to be universal.  I can't be afraid to make fun of something or someone due to race, religion, gender.  I figure if I am as universal as possible it explains that I have no issue, in reality, with any of them.  And I don't! 




I say all of this because I was once chastised for making Jewish jokes.  I was told as a Jew I shouldn't make fun of my people because that makes it okay for others to put us down.  Oddly Judaism is full of humor.  Some of the best comedians and comic writers are Jewish.  The Talmud, from what I understand, is a virtual laugh riot.  Oddly the best comedians do tend to be minorities because laughing at yourself helps to get you past a lot of the pain.  I truly think they movement towards political correctness has hurt this and we see it in the oversensitivity in our society.  But I digress into the seriousness.


I do, by the way, have my limits.  I do not joke about the Holocaust.  I find nothing funny in slavery.  And I try to steer clear of the Inquisition (thought kudos to Mel Brooks and Monty Python).  and actually I did make a comment once about the Jews building the pyramids (still waiting for my 40 acres and a camel) and they should have had one of us do the nose job on the Sphinx, cause, well look at it.




So really this is all a preamble to something that hit me a few weeks back.  It's one of those, I can't believe someone else hadn't thought of this years ago.  And for all I know, someone did.






I was going to dinner with a friend I hadn't seen in years and someone I work with said they had a Groupon for the place 10% off.  When I looked it up I found 25% off and it hit me, that with that big of a discount they should really call a Jewpon!!




Yes yes, poor taste, but at least its better than using that word to discuss a JAP's (Jewish American Princess) sanitary products.




Yep, the week between Rosh Hashannah and Yom Kippur, probably not the best time for observations.




Take Care all

This'll be Quick -- another T shirt idea

As I'm starting to consider this blog a bit of a memory retention for me I wanted to get something else in the books.


Years ago I was working with a woman who was pregnant.  No, not me.  Happily married, one or two other kids.  Suddenly one of those idea things popped into my head and I got her an xl T shirt which I had printed with the following.


Sex Isn't All It's Knocked Up To Be


Bet these would have sold out of the maternity section. 

Straight out of . . . .

So I'm at my stepson's football game the other night (they won 51 to 14).  He plays for the Calabasas Coyotes and I saw a number of people wearing Straight Out Of Calabasas t shirts in support of the team.  Suddenly something hit me.  What a homophobic movie that was.  I mean what about being gay out of Compton.  Not even considered.


This is where political correctness now has my mind going.


Then I thought some more (always a danger) and decided to do my usual and throw political correctness to the wind.  I wished I was back a year and was ready to pull off a major marketing coup.  This is so amazing in my eyes, I am sure someone did this and my subconscious just brought it back up.


Why not t shirts reading ---


STRAIGHT
OUT OF
THE CLOSET


Okay now, move along, move along.

There is a difference.

As I typed the title (above), all I could think of was a blindfolded chef running through the streets of Paris.  Scene from the little known (and not as funny as I had hoped -- Tunnelvision -- which I suddenly want to see again).

For years I thought the terms "being a dick" and being an asshole" were fairly interchangeable.  Two years ago I identified the difference.  In order to not get myself into trouble, I will us a (or is it an) hypothetical to present said difference.

I dated this girl a number of years ago.   We were steadily dating and fairly exclusive for over 2 1/2 years and just when I thought it was getting serious, she broke it off.  She was bored of the relationship; she need her space.  Bottom line, someone else came along that she wanted to be with more than me.  Hey, it happens right?  Life goes on.  I did pine for awhile.  Hoped that she would end the other relationship and come back to me.  My friends consoled me.  Told me that she wasn't worth it.  Move on.  The usual.  I was happy I didn't get a lot of the "yeah, I never liked her but didn't want to say anything."  Heck they liked her, it just had run its course.

So I moved on.  As did she.  Circumstances were such that we did see each other, on occasion.  Always polite and personable and no ill feelings.  She got engaged, broke it off, dated someone new.  I did what I do  best, just kind of met who I met.  Spent time with some, none with others.  Had my alone times and my busy times.

Jump forward two years.  Her car breaks down and she calls me, just to vent.  wasn't the first time; wouldn't be the last.  Ends up her car needs to be in the shop over a long weekend because there were parts needing replacement.  She needed to get to an event about 100 miles away, and had no transportation.  This was well before the age of Uber.  She was in a bind and told me (yep, didn't really ask, but told me) that I needed to drive her to the event.  wait for the 3 hours it would go on, and then drive her back.

My first thought was, "Go screw yourself, get your last boyfriend to do it!"  I didn't say that because then I would be being a dick.  Instead I drove her, waited, drove her home (even bought her dinner on the way back).  THAT was being an asshole.

Think about it

Yep, still pissed

I'm driving the kids to school the other day and some music from The Empire Strikes Back comes on. 


Comes on?  Let me explain (cause God forbid I should make a comment without having to justify it).  I have a GPS in my car (not attached, separate Garmin unit) and it plays MP3's.  I put about 2700 tracks onto a micro sd (8gb) of various piece of my collection and play them , in alphabetical order (which ultimately is as random as shuffle without the darn thing resetting every time I turn it on), over usually about 2 to 3 months.  When it gets through everything, a new sd is inserted with some of the same music and some different stuff.  I might do themes (like as may Beatles recordings as I could find by both the Beatles and those covering the Beatles so we can do a compare and contrast, a bunch of music from Glee, radio serials, musicals -- comparing stage and movie, etc.).  Sometimes just a bunch of different stuff.   This one particular disc features a lot of stuff from the Star Wars movies, Star Trek, Indiana Jones, and more of a similar ilk.


So, I'm driving the kids to school the other day and some music from The Empire Strikes Back comes on.  It happens to be the scene in the Wampa cave, so as it's playing I'm doing the whole Wampa walking, Luke hanging upside down, reaching for the lightsaber, lightsaber barely moving, Wampa walking, lightsaber leaps into hand, Luke upright swinging saber and running out.  Took me all the way through "The Jedi Master who taught me." 
Okay, so most of this was at a red light and pretty much just me waving my hand around and making lightsaber noises and weak Luke utterances and a bad Obi Wan Kenobi imitation.  But my kids enjoyed it (when they weren't looking at each other and wondering how they got stuck with this guy for a father).




And then my mood went from levity to just downright pissed off.  I couldn't hold it in.  "So," I say to my kids and that audience that I believe is there because I truly think my life is just a series of TV episodes, "here we have the son of Darth Vader, Darth Vader, he who was so strong with the force that he was made of the midichlorians.  He who had a higher count than Yoda.  Here's his son, who has had a little bit of training from Obi Wan, a Jedi master, barely being able to move a lightsaber from the snow, a mere inches away.   Yet some random chick (I say stuff like that when I'm ranting) with no Force training almost bests the grandson of the very same fallen Jedi with all the midichlorians.  IT JUST MAKES NO SENSE!!!" 


"I MEAN . . . !!!"  They calmed me down.  Told me I have to stop thinking about it.  Love my kids.


But, I am still pissed.

Th Fight

The Fight

 

 

They decided to see Raiders of the Lost Ark, again.  Sure they had seen it together 4 times and had a combined total viewings of 11, but it was a Friday and it was playing and what the heck. 

 

The ride to the theatre was a bit trying for Rich.  For some reason Gregg was on this rampage about finding him a date.  This always got under his skin.  Sure Gregg was out every other night with another of his young “groupies” but Rich wanted more from a relationship than “the old slap and tickle” Gregg referenced his meaningful relationships as.  Little did Rich know, this was going to be a night to remember.

 

They arrived at the Plaza theatre about 30 minutes before the show.  Gregg had this uncanny need to be early wherever they went.  As they approached the ticket counter, Gregg stepped ahead.  “I got this,” he commented.  He gave the cashier a bit of a look.  She seemed to be about 17, cute, blonde, and reading a page worn copy of Watership Down.  “Two for Raiders, eight fifteen show”, he pushed a ten dollar bill through the slot and awaited the tickets and change.  She barely glanced up at the two of them, took his money and delivered back two tickets, a crumpled dollar bill and two quarters. 

“Enjoy the show,” her voice was barely audible between the glass and her face being down, looking back at the book.

 

“Hey,” Gregg started.  Rich felt a knot form in his stomach.  “What time do you get off?” She looked up with a start, glanced at him, as a smile slowly formed on her lips.

 

“Well, elevenish.”  These a bit louder than her earlier comment.  “Need to clean up after this show and close up.”  She let the book close and began to twirl her hair with two fingers.  “Why do you ask?”  She leaned in slightly towards the glass separating the two of them.

 

“Come on, let’s go!  I wanna make sure we get good seats,” Rich grabbed at Gregg’s arm which was unmovable.  “Every time,” this to himself, “why does he have to do this every time?”

 

“Well, I was just thinking,” his voice got a bit quieter, almost sounding shy, “uhm, well, if you aren’t doing anything after the movie you might want to . . .” he paused for affect.  Rich started to turn away as he rolled his eyes.  “Go to Denny’s with my friend here.”

What the hell!!  The expression on Rich’s face clearly expressed the words he was thinking. “Uh, Gregg, what did you . . . “he couldn’t complete the phrase as he turned away.  Angry, embarrassed, a little of both?

She looked over Gregg’s shoulder to see Rich clearly for the first time.  The smile faded slightly.   “Well, I don’t know I have a lot of work to get done this weekend and . . . “Rich pulled Gregg away by the arm.

“Sorry, he’s a bit out of place, don’t mean to bother you,” Rich said over his shoulder as he dragged Gregg away.  “What the heck are you doing?  I don’t need you to be fixing me up.  Especially with kids.”

“Lighten up.  Just a little harmless fun.”  Gregg pulled away from Rich’s grasp.  “It’s just, well, I never see you dating anyone and thought maybe . . . “

 

“Here’s an idea,” Rich was genuinely getting upset, “Do what you’re best at and stop thinking.”  The comment struck Gregg as more funny than anything else and he looked up at Rich with a smile.  Rich couldn’t hold his anger, shook his head, and smiled, making sure Gregg didn’t notice.

 

As they approached the candy counter Gregg turned to Rich, “Hey, I gotta go to the little boy’s room.  Can you get me a large Popcorn, no butter, Jujy Fruits and a Coke?” He reached in his pocket but Rich stopped him.

“Sure, and hey, you got the tickets, I got this.”

“Thanks,” and he headed across the lobby to the Men’s Room.

Five minutes passed, and Gregg caught up to Rich as he was attempting to gather all their food while retrieving his change from the girl behind the counter.  She was brunette, probably about 21, and carried an air of authority about her.  “Must be the manager or something,” Gregg thought as he reached for the large bag of popcorn.

“Perfect timing,” this from Rich as he slid the large soda over to Gregg.  He pocketed his change and began to pick up his medium popcorn and small soda.

“Hi there,” Gregg smiled at the young lady.  “Gregg Stickeler, Damn glad to meet you.”  He feigned a salute with the hand holding the popcorn.  As a small amount fell to the floor, Gregg thanked the writers of Animal House for the umpteenth time.  The girl smiled cordially and hoped someone else was in need of some candy or drink as she turned away.  “I see you’ve met my good friend Rich,” he stressed the name just a bit too hard.

“Please shut up,” Rich looked to the ornate ceiling of the lobby.

“We’re heading over to the VF tavern after the flick and it would sure be nice if you could join him, I mean us,” the correction of words was purposely obvious.  “I know you probably get out about eleven or eleven thirty.  I’m sure he won’t mind hanging around.  I have a friend meeting me there so I’m sure she won’t mind picking me up here first.”  He was really pushing the issue.

“Thanks, I’m flattered,” she looked towards Rich, feeling his pain, “but I just don’t think so.  You seem like a nice guy, Rich is it?  But I don’t think my boyfriend would understand.”  She looked at the usher approaching the counter from Theatre 1.

“Let’s just go see the movie,” Rich smiled absently at the counter girl as he nudged Gregg to Theatre 2.  “Will you please stop it!”

They found seats in the middle of the theatre which was oddly only about a quarter full for a Friday night.  Granted the movie had been out a few weeks already, but still, it was Raiders.

 

They watched the movie.  After the credits, Rich did his best to rush Gregg out of the theatre to avoid the counter girl, the usher, and the cashier.  They drove to Denny’s and ordered their traditional Saltines and Coke.  They sat for 30 minutes or so discussing the movie and the new things they had spotted.  “No,” Gregg insisted, “that was not See Threepio on the pillar.”  He then went on with his usual diatribe about how Lucas’ concept was really good but Spielberg didn’t know how to direct a chase scene.

Gregg grabbed the check, eyed it, and turned to Rich.  “Well with tip it’s like three dollars each.”  He reached into his wallet and pulled out a credit card.  Rich handed him three dollars, which he pocketed.  He put the bill and the card at the edge of the table.

“Let me get that,” a woman’s voice, “Bob just went on break.”  Gregg looked up.  For the second time that night, Rich felt a knot in his stomach.  She was probably at least thirty.  Attractive, Gregg thought, in an older woman sort of way.

“Hi there,” after all these years Rich was still surprised at how Gregg was just able to turn that smile on without a seemingly second thought.  “You new here?”

“Nah,” was that a slight Jersey accent? “I usually don’t work the weekends but my husband’s out of town and we really need the money so . . . “  Gregg was able to maintain the smile even with her incessant gum chewing Rich knew he couldn’t stand.

 

“Husband, huh?  That’s a shame.  I’ve been trying to find a date for my friend here for a concert next weekend, and . . . hey, wait,” inspiration flashed in his eyes, “you got any friends?  He’s a great guy.”

 

Rich stood up, more embarrassed than angry this time.  “Look, I’ll wait for you in the car.”  He left, not saying a word to the waitress as he slid past her and out into the night.

 

“This is getting ridiculous,” Rich, in a rare moment of annoyance, almost yelled.  “Could you just stop it!”  All Gregg could do was just smile, almost as if he was telling himself a joke.

They drove off in a rare silence.  The radio was on but not a word was spoken.  Rich slowed the car and stopped at a red light.  Gregg peered out the passenger window as red VW beetle pulled up beside them.  The convertible top was down and he could clearly see a very attractive red head in the driver’s seat.

“Hi!” Gregg yelled to her in order to be heard over the dueling radios. “What’s your name?”

From behind her shoulder, a man’s face appeared, a very angry looking man.  “Who the hell wants to know?”

Gregg didn’t skip a beat.  “My friend here was wondering. .. “ he never completed his sentence as the light changed and Rich sped away down the street.

 

At least that’s what they were planning to tell everybody.

Things I've Always Wanted to See In a Movie

For years I had a couple of images I figured if I ever make a movie, I need to incorporate.  Nothing where attention is drawn to it.  Just a quick sight of it in the background or off to the side.  One of those caught it on the second viewing kinda things.

A Gasoline tanker pulled off on the side of a rode.  Not a freeway, more of one of those rarely travelled stretches of road like in the southwest.  Or central New Jersey  The camera is in the car with whatever character interaction is gong on.  A few seconds later you see a lone truck driver, walking, looking hot an d bewildered, carrying a gas can.

The second one has been deemed offensive by many.

I handicapped parking spot that seems empty but on a closer review you notice there is a wheel chair chained to a pole next to it.

Later as our characters enter a grocery store, we see a man, crawling on the ground, just using his arms to propel himself forward.

Yep, that's the kind of background action I'm looking for.

Again, this isn't as much for general entertainment but to make sure I don't forget.

Thanks for listening.

New and Old Musings

Its been quite some time since the last time I had a chance to put some of this stuff down on paper.  Well, not really paper, but we all know what I am getting at.

Ive recently discovered some GGG'isms from the past and I thought best to get them etched before I forget.

I also have a couple of newbies.  One is going to be called inappropriate and bigoted and the other just plan wrong.

Ah, the beauty of the GGG'ism.

Here we go --

Looks like its going to be an Abbott and Costello kind of day.

If the made a TV show based on my life it would be a Surreality show.

 Self doubt is really the worst kind yet oddly the only kind.

Whats the definition of a Booty Call?  When a gay friend butt dials you.

I was at a bar the other night and I overheard this woman say to her friend, "He was such a cold ass bastard, when I sucked his dick I got brain freeze."

And on that note . . .

Ive been meaning to jump on here with my revised version of Dr Seuss' If I Ran the Zoo.  I've always held a certain belief about zoos and finally think I found a way of putting it into words.

I also will be recounting the story of when I was writing a play in high school.  Actually more interesting than it sounds.



Oh yeah, almost forgot (and this is for those of you following me a little bit closer than most), I was watching the Olympics last week and damned if half the women's track team from Ghana weren't girlfriends of mine.  Have to say, dressed very fashionably.

That's it for now.

Dreams of Note

Dreams of Note

 

I’ll admit it.  I have weird dreams.  Always have.  I had a dream once introduced by Rod Serling as if it was a Twilight Zone episode.  And though I dream in color, this one was in black and white.  I have had credits at the end of my dreams.  Very cinematic stuff as well.  I had a dream once that contained a few split screen scenes.  I once had a dream that continued over 4 or 5 days.  One of my most realistic dreams I had in my 20’s.  A group of friends and I were at the mall after closing.  We were dressed in all black with black make up on our faces, like commandos.  Suddenly giant walls came in down in front of the store fronts.  Concrete walls that dropped heavily onto the floor until all but one small area the size of a desk was covered with concrete slabs.  As my friends and I approached stealthily across the second floor, we saw a door open and in walked Hitler with body guards and high level associates.  They approached that square that was left untouched.  We looked over the railing to see.  He was at an ATM.  Our mission, find out his PIN number. I woke up just before we got it.

 

As a kid I was pretty good about getting myself out of scary dreams.  When things got really bad I would just think, well time to wake up.  And I would.  Years back, while still married, I was having a horrible dream.  I don’t remember what it was, but it was terrifying.  Hard as I might, I could not wake myself out of it so I started screaming, “Sarah, Wake me up!!  Wake me up!!”  Thankfully she did.

 

And yes, I’ve had my share of walking to school naked dreams and brakes going out dreams.

 

To this day I still dream about an old apartment I lived in (not in real life but in a dream) that I left some boxes in under the building in a storage cave.

 

About a year ago, I had a dream that I went to pick up the kids at their Mom’s apartment.  Instead of waiting downstairs and texting I came up and knocked at the door.  She opened the door and as we were talking I looked over her shoulder.  On a table behind her were two live miniature T Rex’s.  They were each about the size of a Chihuahua.  They weren’t in a terrarium or cage, just playing on the table.  The playing started to get like a little brawling.  I looked away to continue the conversation and when I looked back at them, one had mounted the other and they were having sex, dinosaur style (I would guess).  Well that woke me up.

 

So what’s the point of all this u=other than I g=haven’t written a blog in a while.  Over the last couple of weeks, some wild dreams.

Last week I dreamt of a Zombie clown attack.  I think they were zombies.  They seemed to be.  People kept turning into these clowns.  They weren’t trying to eat me or my brains or anything, and if you gave them a good whack they would fall down and literally into pieces.  I was fighting them and finally killed off the last one.  I went into a department store and saw a bunch of women shopping.  Only women.  I set off on a search and finally found a pimply faced 17 or 18 year old boy and took him to the store, opened the door, and said< “Look it’s all women.”  I realized that all the Zombie Clowns were men.  I turned to my adolescent friend and said “Five women for every guy!”  He smiled a scary, pimply faced smile and went into the department store.  Cut to an aerial shot of a theatre something like the Hollywood Bowl, but indoors.  The seats were filled with men surrounded by 5 women each.  I heard my voice repeat the word “Five women for every guy.”  The image of the theatre dissolved to that young man and me.  I had my arm around his shoulder and said, once again, “Five women for every guy.”  The credits started.  They were cartoon images of Star Wars characters with credit written across them and once again I heard my voice, “Five women for every guy.”  Then there was a pause and then “That’ll be the name of the sequel!!”  Fade to black.

And, the next day I told the kids about it on the way to school and George laughed and repeated that catch phrase.

 

Last night I dreamt that I had twin girls.  I don’t know how I had them or where they came from.  They were practically newborn and I was picking them up.  No clue who the mother was and honestly totally unprepared for this.  I had no baby seats in the car, no crib, no strollers, nothing.  I just remember looking at them, wanting them, loving them, and scared to death as to how I was going to take care of them.  Eventually my problem was solved because I woke up.

 

Once again I told the kids about my dream.  They listened intently and then George, because he is my son, started to laugh.  Through his giggles he said, “Five women for every guy.”

 

There are times I just don’t want to go back to sleep.

Force Awakens More Pondering

The Force Awakens (More Pondering)

 

I think at this point I need to vent to get this off my chest and hopefully out of my head. 

 

I was watching the local news this morning.  The gentleman who is referred to as the entertainment reporter (Sam Rubin, you might remember him as the guy who couldn’t distinguish between Samuel L Jackson and Lawrence Fishbourne a few months back) was at the Critic’s Choice awards.  Well it wasn’t the actual awards yet, it was 6:15 this morning and he was just wandering around the tables.  He was showing us where the various celebrities would be sitting and then got to one and informed us it was for JJ Abrams.  He leaned in towards the camera and in a hushed, almost reverent voice told us that Star Wars was nominated for Best Picture and that often the Critic’s Choice awards make up for the missteps of the Academy.  WHAT?!?!?  I checked to see if I had mysteriously jumped back in time to 1977 but then in 1977, who the heck was JJ Abrams?  This was on the heels, by the way, of the Academy Award nominations yesterday.  After the first 11 were announced, Mr. Rubin came on and mentioned that Star Wars had gotten a lot of nominations.  Those were his words, A Lot!  Of the first 11, Star Wars had gotten 2 nominations.  Hell if there were only two categories, and a movie was nominated in both the term a lot still wouldn’t apply.  I wonder whose ass at Disney is providing the shading for Sam’s nose these days.

 

I’ve said it before and I will say it again, I enjoyed the Force Awakens but it is by no means a great movie; an award winning film.  Gotta be totally honest here, I’m starting to have trouble considering it as a full film.  I read recently that a story has a beginning, a middle, and an end.  This had the middle part down pat, just seemed to be missing a lot of beginning and it just kinda hung there, instead of ending.  Even Fellowship of the Rings, a clear Book 1 of a trilogy, started and ended.  Star Wars (the original) was said to be the first chapter of the 3^rd book of a trilogy had a beginning, middle, and end.

 

I am a diehard Star Wars fan (I am also a Die Hard fan, but that’s a blog of a different color).  As I mentioned before I awaited the opening of the film, I saw it a bunch of times (and yes I have the movie stubs from the first 25 times I saw it).  I could never get enough.  I couldn’t wait to see the Holiday Special (that was a mistake).  I had great discussions for the three years between Empire and Return of the Jedi about who the other was and if Darth Vader (who we knew since 1977 was named such for “Dark Father”) was Luke’s dad.  My big argument was that Vader was suing the force to manipulate Luke, no way he was the dad (but as we said in the 90’s, “Way!”).  I have toys and books and magazines.  Everywhere I’ve lived has been decorated in what I lovingly refer to as “Early American Star Wars.”  I lived and breathed the movies.  They were and are such an important piece of my life.

 

Let’s hold off on the prequels for a few minutes now.

 

So the Force Awakens comes to us with huge fanfare.  But then why are most of the marketing connections tied to the original trilogy?  Darth Vader and Yoda all over the place.  Even Boba Fett.  Well, I love my Star Wars stuff so I’m not complaining, but seemed very strange to me. 

 

I’m not going to resurrect my review again.  Just, as I mentioned and felt on all 4 viewings.  It isn’t Star Wars.  It lacks the heart.  It lacks the originality.  Hell in one flick we visit Tattooine, Hoth, and the forest moon of Endor (never was sure if the planet was Endor and it was one of many moons, this one featuring a forest or if the moon was named Endor and they just said forest moon as they might say the comedy styling’s of Kevin Pollack).  There was a cantina, The Death Star 3 (oh wait, 3.0 bigger, badder and called Starkiller to make the long time fans squirt).  The one thing that wasn’t copied very well, a story.  A real dramatic conflict.  A villain of any strong sense.  Drama.  Oh sorry, I’m reviewing again.

 

The first comment most of my friends and fellow fans made about this movie was some version of “It was better than the prequels.”  So, you hated the prequels and this was better than them.  Not really saying much.  I will admit, I disagree.  I liked the prequels better but then I never hated the prequels, I happened to enjoy them (and had quite long discussions after Clones as to what Sith would be like and how they might show the transformation of Anankin to Vader and how they would hide the fake that they were twins so there was some surprises for those who watched numerically, not chronologically).  And I longed for the battle I had waited to see since 1977 between Obi Wan and a young Darth that caused him to be enclosed in that armor.  But back to the comparison.  It was good; I liked it better than the prequels.   That says so much about the movie.

 

Well, as usual I ramble.  I’m just really bothered by the movie itself and the way it is being admired, in my opinion, without real justification.  Many have compared it to the original.  Other than a bit of a rip off (see above or better yet watch the two back to back), it lacks the heart, the originality, and the spirit of the original.  Wait, I got it, it lacks the force and in this case Han, that IS how the force works.

 

I’m not done yet.  Everyday more comes to mind as I think about it.  Writing this hasn’t given me the release I had hoped for.  Just raised even more issues.

I welcome discussion.  I love talking about Star Wars (even this alternate universe version).  And, like it or not, I will return.

 

On Line Dating Part 4

On Line Dating (Part 4)

 

Well, I think I am finally over the fascination of On Line Dating.  If you have read my previous blogs, you know that I have been pretty much staying on these sites as a form of entertainment.

 

I get at least 10 winks and requests for chats a week.  All o f these women (and there recently have been a few guys, who I don’t follow up with) have seen my profile picture (me in a hat and meatloaf t shirt and me dressed as Groucho) and find me extremely attractive.  Very Handsome.  You name it, I’m it.  Though their profiles say they are from California or Arizona, or other nearby states once I engage them, they are living in Ghana.  When I started this out, they were all in the fashion industry.  Seems Ghana has had its fill of fashion but it is the prime location for nursing schools.  They continue to be living with the parent who hasn’t died (in one case she moved to Nigeria with her Mom as her Dad died under suspicious circumstances and the mother was potentially guilty).  Or with an Uncle or roommate if both parents have died recently.  They’ve all been on the site for just a day or two and are looking for their soul mate.  And in every case, that’s me.  Within 24 hours they call me dear, or love (one girl insisted on calling me king).

My new strategy is to get pictures from them.  Oddly enough in 2 cases they sent me pics that were, well, let’s just say, not even safe for my work.  We end up on Hangouts.  Many want to text but I inform them that my phone is a company phone and I have gotten in trouble for using it for such things in the past.  One girl called me for a video chat but she and I couldn’t hear each other.  It was interesting as there was a video countdown line across the bottom of the screen.  “Well, love, I’d like to see and hear you but I need a new phone!”  Or webcam, or tablet

My internet connection is bad; send me money to pay for better (Ghana not known for strong internet serve).

 

One of my favorites (and this was after a nude shot from her, not me) was a young girl (she claimed 23) who had $900,000 in gold that she needed to transfer but couldn’t afford the documents.  Another had 500,000 pounds that only needed an empty bank account to transfer into.  “Couldn’t you just take one of your accounts and just leave a dollar in it?”  Last night took the cake.  No money, manager was mean, needed money to eat.  When I said no, she told me how she was going to starve.  I said no again and haven’t heard back from her.  Oh shit!!  Maybe she wasn’t a phony.

 

Oh wait, there was one that I told I had only met scammers (didn’t mention that they were neighbors with her in Ghana).  She asked how and I told her they wanted me to send money.  She proceeds to ask how much I sent.  I responded that I was too embarrassed to admit how much (don’t worry, it was nothing) and she continued to probe me for how much I sent.  Amazing.

 

One of my favorites came from Tinder.  She had actually moved to LA FROM Africa recently.  I got them coming and going.

 

Another girl on Tinder (and I think this one was real) told me that she was a struggling student and for $150 Id get the time of my life.  I honestly considered setting up a go fund me page (to raise the $150 and enough for a hotel) with her picture and caption it with “Help me help a struggling student”.  The other from Tinder was a woman who after on and off back and forth for 2 months told me that she wanted to be in a mutually beneficial relationship.  What was that, I enquired.  Seems I pay her an allowance and she takes care of me.  Again, pretty sure this one existed and was serious.

 

But alas, this bores me.  On to Trivia Crack