and I don't mean that in a colloquial sense, like when someone tells me that they're "addicted" to Veggie Booty.
Nope. I sat with my friend and ate SO MUCH garlic. It was roasted and then microwaved, and then eaten with bread and then without bread and it was delicious. (This was Monday, so I'm fine now, and just had a lovely "Back to School day" with the kids.) BUT on Monday night I was convinced I was going to die... I didn't know why. I thought it might be a cookie from my friend Dave, but my friend was sick too, and the garlic was the common culprit!
I believe in the power of words, so I prefer "Garlic Overdose" for it's specific clarity, but the internets tell me that it's POISON. (Check out the link if you doubt the fervor of these antigarlic crazies.) I have also come to believe that too much garlic at one time can damage the flora of my stomach and prevent it from digesting things(like a cookie) at it's usual busy clip. (JD, it was like at least one HUGE HEAD, so don't worry, it won't happen if you only use it recreationally. This will not happen to you.) Actually the ease with which I found "information" about "garlic poisoning" stunned me, so it was time to check and see if this was a random Google effect.
"Toner cartridge poisoning" led to almost no related items... no I don't know why "Toner Cartridge" was the first common household (ish?) item to come to mind. Blame the garlic.
"Corn poisoning" was all about sinister exterminators feeding pests.
"Jelly poisoning" was patchy, but DID bring up this disturbing piece about the banal hazards of incarceration.
At this point I had a quick chat with my sister and decided that I should be searching for other "miracle cure" type foods, more like garlic, so I tried "Vinegar Poisoning". Everyone in every interweb agrees that Vinegar is the CURE for all types of poisoning. Sure, now I know.
So, there you have it.
Also, I was mystified enough by this that I wanted to share all of this news with everyone I know, so there it is, I'm going to try a blog again. (Not least because of the Sprayberries.)
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
The Red Sox Won Last Night
and despite not caring a whit about baseball I'm completely thrilled.
Last night I went with some friends who actually own Red Sox shirts and hats (because of where I'm from, I have a default love for the Red Sox, but no actual interest in the American pastime) to watch the Red Sox beat the Mariners in a very dramatic game.
There was a heightened amount of "Security" going on at this game that really threw me. I watched someone's sharpie get confiscated (even though the 3 or 4 in my purse were ignored... it was enough to make me want to develop a tag while I was in the ladies room "Paste" or "Play-Doh" or something....) and then my pal got BOOTED for putting booze in his soda, (he was a kind of a folk hero to all the people in our section after a while) and the "Alcohol enforcement" people came back and officously carded two (very beautiful and youthful) women in their FORTIES which was pretty comical for all of us watching. When I worked in shelters, part of my job was a bouner-type roll, making sure folks weren't shooting up in the bathroom, or drinking beer out of a gatorade bottle, or selling drugs. I learned a lot about how to follow rules that are unpopular, but keep people safe, and the "Profit Enforcement" people brought out a sort of adolescent indignance and obstinance in me that folks who do that work should really try to avoid.
I haven't been to Safeco for 6 years, when I watched the Mariners beat the Red Sox. At that time, my pal Al almost got his ass kicked for wearing Sox gear to the game and we were the ONLY people in earshot chearing for the Sox. This time, though, you could see the bold red and blue contrasting with the kind of sissy pastel teal and purple throughout the stadium, and there was a large contingent of Sox fans in our nosebleed section. There was one dude wearing a newish Sox jersey who kept forgetting and cheering when the Mariners would score. After numerous reminders the poor bastard just stopped cheering altogether and let his ladyfriend in a tasteful white Mariners hat do all the work.
These were not all "since the world series" fans either... you could hear in the way people cheered "Sawks" that they were hahd-co-ah fans from back east. I adore being in a crowd. (Z hates them, and often feels anxious and exhausted at events like that one, but the buoyancy of the rest of us was enough to protect him from the throng.) Being in a crowd full of people all doing the same things together is so energizing to me, and to see have fans for both teams screaming their heads off, because, who knows you're clapping and jumping MIGHT make the difference.... what a rush. Anothter rush was paying $40 for a burger, fries and a beer. Wow, ouch. And then the sox one at the very last minute. It was freakin' awesome.
Last night I went with some friends who actually own Red Sox shirts and hats (because of where I'm from, I have a default love for the Red Sox, but no actual interest in the American pastime) to watch the Red Sox beat the Mariners in a very dramatic game.
There was a heightened amount of "Security" going on at this game that really threw me. I watched someone's sharpie get confiscated (even though the 3 or 4 in my purse were ignored... it was enough to make me want to develop a tag while I was in the ladies room "Paste" or "Play-Doh" or something....) and then my pal got BOOTED for putting booze in his soda, (he was a kind of a folk hero to all the people in our section after a while) and the "Alcohol enforcement" people came back and officously carded two (very beautiful and youthful) women in their FORTIES which was pretty comical for all of us watching. When I worked in shelters, part of my job was a bouner-type roll, making sure folks weren't shooting up in the bathroom, or drinking beer out of a gatorade bottle, or selling drugs. I learned a lot about how to follow rules that are unpopular, but keep people safe, and the "Profit Enforcement" people brought out a sort of adolescent indignance and obstinance in me that folks who do that work should really try to avoid.
I haven't been to Safeco for 6 years, when I watched the Mariners beat the Red Sox. At that time, my pal Al almost got his ass kicked for wearing Sox gear to the game and we were the ONLY people in earshot chearing for the Sox. This time, though, you could see the bold red and blue contrasting with the kind of sissy pastel teal and purple throughout the stadium, and there was a large contingent of Sox fans in our nosebleed section. There was one dude wearing a newish Sox jersey who kept forgetting and cheering when the Mariners would score. After numerous reminders the poor bastard just stopped cheering altogether and let his ladyfriend in a tasteful white Mariners hat do all the work.
These were not all "since the world series" fans either... you could hear in the way people cheered "Sawks" that they were hahd-co-ah fans from back east. I adore being in a crowd. (Z hates them, and often feels anxious and exhausted at events like that one, but the buoyancy of the rest of us was enough to protect him from the throng.) Being in a crowd full of people all doing the same things together is so energizing to me, and to see have fans for both teams screaming their heads off, because, who knows you're clapping and jumping MIGHT make the difference.... what a rush. Anothter rush was paying $40 for a burger, fries and a beer. Wow, ouch. And then the sox one at the very last minute. It was freakin' awesome.
Monday, September 3, 2007
Lady Sovereign
is my new hero.
She's a young English rapper, and she rocks.
I'm reading Songbook by Nick Hornby which is this beautiful collection of essays about individual pop songs and their place in his life. Apparently the hardcover actually came with a mix cd to go with it, but I got the paperback used, and now it's killing me that I can't listen to Thunder Road while I'm reading his piece about it. In any case his tastes are incredibly varied (he's the guy who wrote High Fidelity) so he's got Ani Difranco and the Beattles and Badly Drawn Boy and Ben Folds... It's made me listen to music almost constantly this weekend. A shortlived radio show called Pop Vultures did the same thing to me while it was on. (the show is still available online, and is some great listening). I just suddenly find myself needing music in a way that I associate with adolescence, and I'm having to readjust that idea. Here I am all grown up, needing music in that same desperate way again. The only adult I know who craves and consumes and KNOWS music, especially pop music the way that Nick Hornby does is my father. He knows all music, devotes a huge piece of his brain and life history to consuming and integrating and loving pop music. And now, I guess, here I am, doing a similar thing, only with this part of my brain that tells me that I probably shouldn't. It's wierd.
In any case I've been planning a trip to the record store to stock up on MIA, Lady Soveriegn, Amy Winehouse, and the Blue Scholars. If I could find it, I'd buy a record by a band called Guns That Shoot Knives, who I saw last week at the Sunset, but I doubt they'll have them, since I can't even find them on Myspace! Sheesh. Generally, I walk into a record store with a very clear idea of what I want, and walk out with something that seduced me as I walked down the aisle instead. As a teenager, this was the Morphine problem... I'd walk in to buy a Morphine album and walk out with something else. This is top of the long list of reasons to buy music from a story and not online. The other reason is hip, short, attractive music geeks behind the counter who seem to be the same hip, short, attractive, music geeks who worked behind the counter in Rhode Island when I was in high school and college.... weird.
Anyway, rock some Lady Sovereign.
Oh, and PS use http://www.pandora.com
You type in the name of an artist or band you like and it tries to play you music that is similar. It's awesome.
She's a young English rapper, and she rocks.
I'm reading Songbook by Nick Hornby which is this beautiful collection of essays about individual pop songs and their place in his life. Apparently the hardcover actually came with a mix cd to go with it, but I got the paperback used, and now it's killing me that I can't listen to Thunder Road while I'm reading his piece about it. In any case his tastes are incredibly varied (he's the guy who wrote High Fidelity) so he's got Ani Difranco and the Beattles and Badly Drawn Boy and Ben Folds... It's made me listen to music almost constantly this weekend. A shortlived radio show called Pop Vultures did the same thing to me while it was on. (the show is still available online, and is some great listening). I just suddenly find myself needing music in a way that I associate with adolescence, and I'm having to readjust that idea. Here I am all grown up, needing music in that same desperate way again. The only adult I know who craves and consumes and KNOWS music, especially pop music the way that Nick Hornby does is my father. He knows all music, devotes a huge piece of his brain and life history to consuming and integrating and loving pop music. And now, I guess, here I am, doing a similar thing, only with this part of my brain that tells me that I probably shouldn't. It's wierd.
In any case I've been planning a trip to the record store to stock up on MIA, Lady Soveriegn, Amy Winehouse, and the Blue Scholars. If I could find it, I'd buy a record by a band called Guns That Shoot Knives, who I saw last week at the Sunset, but I doubt they'll have them, since I can't even find them on Myspace! Sheesh. Generally, I walk into a record store with a very clear idea of what I want, and walk out with something that seduced me as I walked down the aisle instead. As a teenager, this was the Morphine problem... I'd walk in to buy a Morphine album and walk out with something else. This is top of the long list of reasons to buy music from a story and not online. The other reason is hip, short, attractive music geeks behind the counter who seem to be the same hip, short, attractive, music geeks who worked behind the counter in Rhode Island when I was in high school and college.... weird.
Anyway, rock some Lady Sovereign.
Oh, and PS use http://www.pandora.com
You type in the name of an artist or band you like and it tries to play you music that is similar. It's awesome.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
file under "NOW I've seen EVERYthing"
file under "NOW I’ve seen EVERYthing"
I grew up with a hatred of pawn shops and Rent-a-Centers because they profit only from the poverty of others. I particularly hate their ad tactics and their placement in places where folks "need" them most.
Today I was walking through a Spendy neighborhood near Leschi, when I saw a white SUV with hot pink "People Pawn" stickers on the sides. It's a mobile pawn shop that will come to your "home or office" to exchange petty cash for jewels, electronics and presumably guns. At what kind of office exactly is it appropriate to have the People Pawn SUV parked outside? What?! I'd already visited the "Yuppie Pawn shop" in Lake Forest Park. (Basically for folks who feel like they're giving too much away when they send their REI jackets and older model Cuisinart to the Goodwill.) I always thought of Pawning something as a kind of desperate act, so I can see how the place may benefit from availability... getting there before you think twice about trading heirlooms to pay the electric bill, but the "office" part just doesn't add up for me.
That said, the org I serve IS in the middle of a big fundraising campaign, and we ARE looking under every rock at this point....
Nah. Forget it, what would they give me for some fingerpaintings and a lego helicopter anyway?
I grew up with a hatred of pawn shops and Rent-a-Centers because they profit only from the poverty of others. I particularly hate their ad tactics and their placement in places where folks "need" them most.
Today I was walking through a Spendy neighborhood near Leschi, when I saw a white SUV with hot pink "People Pawn" stickers on the sides. It's a mobile pawn shop that will come to your "home or office" to exchange petty cash for jewels, electronics and presumably guns. At what kind of office exactly is it appropriate to have the People Pawn SUV parked outside? What?! I'd already visited the "Yuppie Pawn shop" in Lake Forest Park. (Basically for folks who feel like they're giving too much away when they send their REI jackets and older model Cuisinart to the Goodwill.) I always thought of Pawning something as a kind of desperate act, so I can see how the place may benefit from availability... getting there before you think twice about trading heirlooms to pay the electric bill, but the "office" part just doesn't add up for me.
That said, the org I serve IS in the middle of a big fundraising campaign, and we ARE looking under every rock at this point....
Nah. Forget it, what would they give me for some fingerpaintings and a lego helicopter anyway?
Friday, August 10, 2007
Radio 8ball
Last night I went to see Radio 8ball... it's a live version of a radio show. On the radio show, the host, a guy name Andras, listens to a caller's questions and then picks a Cd and song at random to answer the question and then he and the caller interpret the answer. This process has also been called the "Ipod Tarot"... tonight though, it was a live show for an audience full of barefoot women, men with facial hair, mood lighting and a DJ and the songs all came from one Jim Page.
(Jim Page is a busker/folk musician here in Seattle who has played really revolutionary and musically solid songs for longer than he cares usually to talk about.)
Everyone submits a question, and then a person's question is picked out of a box and they are invited onstage to read their question, spin a dial that is marked with signs of the zodiac. There's this big sign with the signs next to names of Jim's songs, and then he plays that song to you. Everyone else's job is to hold their own interpretation, their own intention for each question. Jim Page's songs are sometimes political... tonight the owner creator of Fishtales Organic Beers in Olympia got up and asked when she should move to New Orleans, and if she does if she should open a floating brewery there. The wheel turned to jim's song "Petroleum Bonaparte" which is an angry/funny diatribe about Oil and George Bush. Afterwards there were different interpretations... clearly New Orleans is a part of "Big Oil" and the song was saying not to participate in what's happening there... or perhaps the song was saying to wait until George Bush is out of office, or that New Orleans desperately needs more beer right away. (Did I mention that after you ask your question, you're given raw chocolate and an "Herbal Brew" filled with kava kava and yohimbe and raw honey and other herbally stuff?)
One young man (17?) asked "How do I know if I am a good person or a bad person?" his answer was called "More than anything else in the world" and the rest of the chorus was "I'm never gonna let you down". Jim Page is probably in his sfifties or sixties, and his own interpretation of this answer is that one makes a decision to be a good person. I took it a different way, but enjoyed that idea. The young man's friend's question was also picked. His was "How do you go from surviving to thriving?" The dial landed on the special "Radio 8ball" song which was sung (and written) by this Andras fellow, and it was called "I fucked a pumpkin". It was painful to watch as this young man's serious question ( I hear the word "survive" and assume some heavy shit, though maybe he was just talking about how shitty it is to have curfew or something) answered by an obscene Halloween comedy bit. People took the guy with the lost cat and the woman doubting her path of yoga WAY more seriously than this person's youthful angst, which was hard for me personally to take, because I'm crazy about young people who share their angst. I guess the Pop Oracle decided that humor and pumpkin fucking is what he needed... who am I to argue?
Another woman asked if she had a guardian angel, and the song that answered here was "Jesus and the Laughing Deity" a song about a jester-god who jokes with Christ until he finds himself off his cross, leaving behind his suffering. The guy who's cat Fargel had wandered off three weeks before got a song about Julia Butterfly and Taoism and activisim which was confusing for some of us. All the pet owner heard were the words "Jack the Ripper" which didn't bode well for him.
It was such a fascinating evening... my good friend asked her question onstage. I'd told her when we arrived that I was certain one of us would get selected... she was the last one. She asked "In what direction is my vision going?" because sometimes it gets better, but for the last three years it's gotten steadily worse. The song that she spun was about Rachel Corrie, and about not ignoring the suffering in the world. The first four lines or so were about being a really decent, loving person who changes what needs to be changed which reminded me of her partner, a great guy who I think has been the difference between "surviving and thriving" for her. I cried through the whole thing.
Afterwards, there was a great party. Jim Page was wandering around with a huge piece of cake (his birthday was last week) and looking for a place to sit, so I invited him to join us. We had a great talk. I told him I thought it'd be had to play his own music without being in charge of the show. He said that ordinarily, he had to manufacture his conversation with the audience, but in this venue it was understood, impossible to avoid and that he liked that, said it was easier. It was a fantastic thing to behold, and I can't wait to go again.
(Jim Page is a busker/folk musician here in Seattle who has played really revolutionary and musically solid songs for longer than he cares usually to talk about.)
Everyone submits a question, and then a person's question is picked out of a box and they are invited onstage to read their question, spin a dial that is marked with signs of the zodiac. There's this big sign with the signs next to names of Jim's songs, and then he plays that song to you. Everyone else's job is to hold their own interpretation, their own intention for each question. Jim Page's songs are sometimes political... tonight the owner creator of Fishtales Organic Beers in Olympia got up and asked when she should move to New Orleans, and if she does if she should open a floating brewery there. The wheel turned to jim's song "Petroleum Bonaparte" which is an angry/funny diatribe about Oil and George Bush. Afterwards there were different interpretations... clearly New Orleans is a part of "Big Oil" and the song was saying not to participate in what's happening there... or perhaps the song was saying to wait until George Bush is out of office, or that New Orleans desperately needs more beer right away. (Did I mention that after you ask your question, you're given raw chocolate and an "Herbal Brew" filled with kava kava and yohimbe and raw honey and other herbally stuff?)
One young man (17?) asked "How do I know if I am a good person or a bad person?" his answer was called "More than anything else in the world" and the rest of the chorus was "I'm never gonna let you down". Jim Page is probably in his sfifties or sixties, and his own interpretation of this answer is that one makes a decision to be a good person. I took it a different way, but enjoyed that idea. The young man's friend's question was also picked. His was "How do you go from surviving to thriving?" The dial landed on the special "Radio 8ball" song which was sung (and written) by this Andras fellow, and it was called "I fucked a pumpkin". It was painful to watch as this young man's serious question ( I hear the word "survive" and assume some heavy shit, though maybe he was just talking about how shitty it is to have curfew or something) answered by an obscene Halloween comedy bit. People took the guy with the lost cat and the woman doubting her path of yoga WAY more seriously than this person's youthful angst, which was hard for me personally to take, because I'm crazy about young people who share their angst. I guess the Pop Oracle decided that humor and pumpkin fucking is what he needed... who am I to argue?
Another woman asked if she had a guardian angel, and the song that answered here was "Jesus and the Laughing Deity" a song about a jester-god who jokes with Christ until he finds himself off his cross, leaving behind his suffering. The guy who's cat Fargel had wandered off three weeks before got a song about Julia Butterfly and Taoism and activisim which was confusing for some of us. All the pet owner heard were the words "Jack the Ripper" which didn't bode well for him.
It was such a fascinating evening... my good friend asked her question onstage. I'd told her when we arrived that I was certain one of us would get selected... she was the last one. She asked "In what direction is my vision going?" because sometimes it gets better, but for the last three years it's gotten steadily worse. The song that she spun was about Rachel Corrie, and about not ignoring the suffering in the world. The first four lines or so were about being a really decent, loving person who changes what needs to be changed which reminded me of her partner, a great guy who I think has been the difference between "surviving and thriving" for her. I cried through the whole thing.
Afterwards, there was a great party. Jim Page was wandering around with a huge piece of cake (his birthday was last week) and looking for a place to sit, so I invited him to join us. We had a great talk. I told him I thought it'd be had to play his own music without being in charge of the show. He said that ordinarily, he had to manufacture his conversation with the audience, but in this venue it was understood, impossible to avoid and that he liked that, said it was easier. It was a fantastic thing to behold, and I can't wait to go again.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
What a day!
The weather was in the 80's last week, which told me that summer was *coming* but when I walked down my street and saw that the movie marquee had
Spiderman 3 (saw it, loved it)
Pirates of the Carribbean 2 (ditto... I know, I know, they're dumb, but so good in an old fashioned corny-ass way)
and Shrek 3 (I know EVERYONE else digs them, but I saw the 2nd one on a plane and wasn't impressed...)
Coming soon? The Bournes Ultimatum (third in the series) and Ocean's 13 (can't wait!) In other words.... it's summer, my friends. Generally speaking, I've never been one for sequels, but I can't wait for Ocean's 13. (I tried to watch the original... I'm crazy about Sinatra, but try as I might to change my frame of reference to a different, more misogynist time, I couldn't watch it.)
ANYway. I stayed home sick today with a stomach ache, and our water heater suddenly started to "leak"...ie gallons and gallons of hot and then cold water came tumbling onto my basement floor (and thus, my dirty laundry). It was a good thing that I was home because from his office, Z would never have heard the noise, and it would have gone on for much longer. It was my incredulity that my husband would do laundry in the middle of the day (that was what the water sounded like) that led me to investigate.
So, I finally got to "STOP FREAKIN' Call Beacon!" which I've been waiting to do for years. A pinnacle of marketing genius that line...
New Boiler and a cheeseburger were exactly what the doctor ordered.
Spiderman 3 (saw it, loved it)
Pirates of the Carribbean 2 (ditto... I know, I know, they're dumb, but so good in an old fashioned corny-ass way)
and Shrek 3 (I know EVERYONE else digs them, but I saw the 2nd one on a plane and wasn't impressed...)
Coming soon? The Bournes Ultimatum (third in the series) and Ocean's 13 (can't wait!) In other words.... it's summer, my friends. Generally speaking, I've never been one for sequels, but I can't wait for Ocean's 13. (I tried to watch the original... I'm crazy about Sinatra, but try as I might to change my frame of reference to a different, more misogynist time, I couldn't watch it.)
ANYway. I stayed home sick today with a stomach ache, and our water heater suddenly started to "leak"...ie gallons and gallons of hot and then cold water came tumbling onto my basement floor (and thus, my dirty laundry). It was a good thing that I was home because from his office, Z would never have heard the noise, and it would have gone on for much longer. It was my incredulity that my husband would do laundry in the middle of the day (that was what the water sounded like) that led me to investigate.
So, I finally got to "STOP FREAKIN' Call Beacon!" which I've been waiting to do for years. A pinnacle of marketing genius that line...
New Boiler and a cheeseburger were exactly what the doctor ordered.
Friday, May 4, 2007
No, like, for real
Some of you will know that I got a subscription this year to the 5th Ave theatre. (RI folks, think PPAC). Generally thinking I'm more of a late-night, fringe, bring yer beer into the black box, wacky trashy pay-what-you-can kind of theater goer, BUT my pal Paula and I both like musicals. (Only I'm generally too embarrassed to tell other people that because I'm tuff.)
We got the subscription with another friend because they were showing "Company" (Sondheim show about sex and marriage, also the theme music for my early childhood. yeah.) and "White Christmas" (I cried, and loved the fake snow, and sang along at the end louder than anyone else in the nosebleeds because in the dark, noone can see you're tuff.) and "West Side Story" (c'mon!)
We also got "Buddy; The Buddy Holly Story" and, fatefully, "Edward Scissorhands". (We actually signed up for something else even more unlikely, but "Buddy..." replaced what the original season included. Imagine, like "Woody; The Woody Allen Story" or something.)
Last night was Edward Scissorhands. It was something else. I'll jump to the end of the night, which took place in the corporate video establishment (which I always avoid) because it was too late for my local joint and I couldn't wait.
Kendra: Hi. I can't find Edward Scissorhands, will you help me?
Short Dorky Blonde Video Guy: Did you look in drama?
Kendra: Yeah. I found Eddie and The Cruisers.
SDBVG: Here it is. (In comedy)
K: fifty fifty shot I guess.
at the counter:
SDBVG: Hey, did you know that there's, like, a ballet version of that right now?
K: Yep. That's why I'm here. I just saw it.
SDBVG: I heard it was great. What did you think?
K: I'm not sure. I was expecting a musical, and brought my blind friend, so I spent the whole time whispering narration, so I couldn't really get into it. Maybe it was really good.
SDBVG: Oh. (BLIND. GOSH. YUCK. WHAT DO I SAY?) My friends said it was really good.
K: The set was cool.
SDBVG: (THANK GOD!) Yeah. They said the the sets were amazing. They saw the London cast, which is pretty much the same thing.
That's right friends. I narrated the ballet version of Edward Scissorhands in my quietest indoor voice from the nosebleeds.
"Now that slutty lady brings the salesman into her house... whoops, he's out again. I think he might be golfing with her husband now."
"The cheerleader loves Edward... the other teenagers are doing a peer pressure dance now. Oh. She leaves him".
There was a dream sequence (I'm not big on ballet that isn't the nutcracker... is that like some ballet trope of some kind?) where Edward has hands and all the other folks are topiaries. It was probably awesome, but it turns out that all of my cynicism lives in my left brain right next to my words, but my right brain has all my Dream-dancing-appretiation.
Fucked up. A joke, even. Sheesh.
If "West Side Story" is, like, a One-Womyn performance piece, I'm staying home.
Oh. Ps. Not one smoke in four months. Word.
We got the subscription with another friend because they were showing "Company" (Sondheim show about sex and marriage, also the theme music for my early childhood. yeah.) and "White Christmas" (I cried, and loved the fake snow, and sang along at the end louder than anyone else in the nosebleeds because in the dark, noone can see you're tuff.) and "West Side Story" (c'mon!)
We also got "Buddy; The Buddy Holly Story" and, fatefully, "Edward Scissorhands". (We actually signed up for something else even more unlikely, but "Buddy..." replaced what the original season included. Imagine, like "Woody; The Woody Allen Story" or something.)
Last night was Edward Scissorhands. It was something else. I'll jump to the end of the night, which took place in the corporate video establishment (which I always avoid) because it was too late for my local joint and I couldn't wait.
Kendra: Hi. I can't find Edward Scissorhands, will you help me?
Short Dorky Blonde Video Guy: Did you look in drama?
Kendra: Yeah. I found Eddie and The Cruisers.
SDBVG: Here it is. (In comedy)
K: fifty fifty shot I guess.
at the counter:
SDBVG: Hey, did you know that there's, like, a ballet version of that right now?
K: Yep. That's why I'm here. I just saw it.
SDBVG: I heard it was great. What did you think?
K: I'm not sure. I was expecting a musical, and brought my blind friend, so I spent the whole time whispering narration, so I couldn't really get into it. Maybe it was really good.
SDBVG: Oh. (BLIND. GOSH. YUCK. WHAT DO I SAY?) My friends said it was really good.
K: The set was cool.
SDBVG: (THANK GOD!) Yeah. They said the the sets were amazing. They saw the London cast, which is pretty much the same thing.
That's right friends. I narrated the ballet version of Edward Scissorhands in my quietest indoor voice from the nosebleeds.
"Now that slutty lady brings the salesman into her house... whoops, he's out again. I think he might be golfing with her husband now."
"The cheerleader loves Edward... the other teenagers are doing a peer pressure dance now. Oh. She leaves him".
There was a dream sequence (I'm not big on ballet that isn't the nutcracker... is that like some ballet trope of some kind?) where Edward has hands and all the other folks are topiaries. It was probably awesome, but it turns out that all of my cynicism lives in my left brain right next to my words, but my right brain has all my Dream-dancing-appretiation.
Fucked up. A joke, even. Sheesh.
If "West Side Story" is, like, a One-Womyn performance piece, I'm staying home.
Oh. Ps. Not one smoke in four months. Word.
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