January Inventions

Invention #1: Some type of invisible (sharp?) wall to stop the people at Trader Joe's from putting their cart in line like dishonest squatters and then meandering off 90 times to finish their shopping right before your very eyes so that you want to yell "YOU FORGOT YOUR TOFU TOILET PAPER!" This wall should be spiky and surprising and made of some kind of material that teaches right from wrong or how to not be rat face chihuahua annoying.

Invention #2: Some type of sign, placard or billboard to alert the people who win Academy Awards to REMEMBER: YOU ARE NOT WINNING AN AWARD FOR CURING CANCER, SOLVING GLOBAL WARMING OR INVENTING THE SWIFFER. This sign should either be flashing or have hundreds of little mirrors on it in the shape of Heal The Bay stickers so it looks like something sheik and hip they're supposed to care about.

Over and Out,
Patrolman Snark

Things I Don't Understand, Items 10 thru 12

10. Toddler beauty pageants
11. Curling
12. Mott the Hoople

Cooper Being Burt Reynolds

Shortly after this photo was taken he sped off to Palm Springs with Dinah Shore and Dom Deluise.

A List Of Good Things

1. Whole wheat pasta
2. An almost too hot bath
3. Experiencing the ability to accept things just as they are for 5 minutes
4. The jacaranda trees that line El Molino in Pasadena
5. This American Life
6. Chloe's face
7. Michael's smile
8. Eric's heart and face and walk
9. Having the best sister on earth
10. Tom's drawings
11. Using up all the lettuce before it turns to goopy fossil fuel in the bag
12. Remembering 50 times a day --- WE HAVE A COOL PRESIDENT THAT IS NOT AN EVIL TURD
13. Really kind people
14. Reconciling with my mom and how happy my dad would have been about this
15. My friendship with Robert
16. Finally starting to know it's very very very very rarely about me
17. Perfectly cut pineapple in a glass bowl
18. My buddha statues
19. Linda, of course
20. This sentence: BE MORE CURIOUS THAN AFRAID

Sincerely,
Dean of Fret

Death and Yellow = Odd, True

John Updike died today. If my dad were still here I'd be on the phone with him holding a two person funeral in Updike's honor but since I can't do that I decided to post a pretty picture I took of a tree instead. There's something about that vibrant shade of yellow that makes me feel better and I'm reminded that, coincidentally, the first social event I slithered to right after my dad died was an art opening and that night I bought a painting titled Road Trip from my frielative Mark Norris and wrote this about that painting:

"The strangest things can act as a balm in moments. Like that yellow in Mark's painting. After the memorial, when I was convinced that I'd never be able to make small talk again, I woke up a bit when I walked into the gallery and saw that shade of yellow. I think it might have even shouted at me. For a long while, I just stared. I pointed it out to several people, almost ignoring the rest of the piece. What was it about that color that soothed me so? I think it reminded me of insomnia or headache-bright sunshine or windshield glare on a road trip---things that were acutely undead."

And then you know the most amazing thing? I just picked up Updike's The Same Door and randomly flipped to a page and you know what page I landed on? The story titled Who Made Yellow Roses Yellow?

Score one point for the Dead People Send Messages To Grief Stricken Readers Team.

Love,
Mrs. Oh I Hope It's So

Monday Judgements and Warnings

Bad things:

1. Standard poodles
2. Under or over performing bubble bath
3. Moths that won't die

I'll Send Word = Good

My husband and I were watching Lewis & Clark and at one point a gorgeous letter (one of 90 million read during the documentary) is quoted and it ends with Clark assuring the addressee that, if all goes well, he will send another letter "by next winter".

BY NEXT WINTER.

There is something so beautiful and courageous and romantic about that concept. People waited months and sometimes years to hear from each other. I'm certain each generation stands, at one point, with a kind of longing when looking back over the ways and habits of the other but I can't help feeling sad to the point of panic when I think of the lost habit of writing letters. I am aware that I am getting old when I examine just how judgemental and worried I am about the shortened code language that is emerging with Text Nation. I'm such an old fogey I don't even want to live there.

I can't live without long, precious descriptions of things I'll never see or mindful words strung together so perfectly my heartbeat slows and I feel more relaxed.

I'm thinking of sending the Lewis & Clark documentary to the parents of that girl that did 34 billion texts in one month. So many so that they figured out that she had to have been texting every millisecond. Thank GAWD she wasn't the head navigator on the Core of Discovery. We'd all be living in a parking lot in Pittsburg if she'd been in charge of keeping her eyes on the road.

Somberly Yours,
Geriatric Lady

Foods That Worry Me = True

1. Blood sausage
2. Offal
3. Wild boar
4. Bean curd

Love,
Kenny the Dachshund

Alarming Things = Odd

I'm trying to figure out which is weirder:

1. When you laugh really loud and suddenly you sound like an old grandpa man in a snorty, emphysema, coughing-up-a-lung way.
2. When you're driving and you catch a glimpse of an old person sitting on a bus stop that is an exact version of you when you're 90.

I think its a tie.

Enough With The Grinding and Snarling

I'm a member of the smallest club on earth and the name of that club is:

IS IT JUST US OR DOES ELVIS PRESLEY BORE THE CRAP OUT OF YOU?

There are no dues for this club. The only price to pay is that you have to be good and gosh darn careful who you divulge membership to because once you admit your identity, you run the risk of being shunned or worse---being the target of salivating Elvis lobbyists and their never ending freaky faraway looks when they describe (for the 89 millionth time) how Elvis invented rock and roll or toilet paper or something.

Best Wishes,
Don King's Hairstylist
Cell block 9

Yesterday's Forecast = True

OH MY GOD. The weather people were finally right.

Cooper Being Laird Hamilton

"You think it's easy having a neck the size of Pittsburg?" he asks.

The Only Things That Would Make January 20th More Insanely Enjoyable

1. If my dad were here
2. If all the other missing ones were here
3. If Dick Cheney were forced to sit off to the side wearing a hat that said "I'm Pooping My Pants Right Now"

See you soonly,
Glee Leader
Happy Unit #90

Thoughts On CNN Men

If someone put a gun to my head and told me I had to pick ONLY one CNN correspondent to listen to for the rest of my life I'd pick David Gergen.

Partly because he seems disturbed by James Carville's crazed demeanor and I think this shows a certain refined caution on his part but mostly because he is, by far, the smartest man-turtle in the bunch.

My role model is Kathie Lee Gifford,
Lou Dobbs

Things Of Which I Am One Hundred Percent Certain

1. Gravity exists
2. Broccoli gives me gas
3. There is never a moment of the day or night that Ann Coulter is not wearing that little black dress

Until next time,
Tilly the Beagle

"Look! I Can See Cheney Leaving From Up Here"

I believe I overheard this guy telling one of his finch friends that this would be the perfect spot to witness the extraordinary event that will take place on January 20th at High Noon when Our new President gets sworn in and the old ass face gets sworn out.

There Are Always Options = True

Anderson Cooper is talking about the parents that named their child "Hitler" and I think he should take a moment to consider some suggestions for these parents because there are plenty of other nice names, you know. Like, what about:

1. Pia Zadora
2. Rice and Beans (for twins only, obviously)
3. Blubberface
4. Commie Bastard
5. Toot

You're telling me they wouldn't like one of these?

Gotta scoot,
President of Irrelevant Worry

Recipe

Difficult Crap Day Ingredients

67 cups, worried weasel monkey thoughts, sliced
1 pound of dread, cut in 2 inch cubes
2 tablespoons catastrophic weirdo story lines, minced and set aside
1 15 ounce can anxiety flakes, rolled in lard
6 cans of unwieldy occupation with how unfair things are
seething anger & hate to taste

Cooper Being Ann-Margret

Needless to say, our weekend was filled with romance and beauty.

Pretty Withered One

This is the time of year that is a bit too cold to camp in Joshua Tree but it is the time of year that I start to long for the landscape of it. How the craggy Ichabod Crane trees do a flaily dance against that blue, blue sky. I never fail to feel overwhelming peace there, what with the lack of bears and all.

Reasons Why I Don't Agree With Death, Items 1 thru 3

1. Over-The-Top permanence aspect
2. Your departed one will never get to high five you again
3. Periodic Barfy Panic Grief that turns into stomach knot made of scary tar (not needed)

Bye now,
Minister of I'm Not Exaggerating

Catchy & Timeless

My dad's nickname for Nixon = Ass Eyes

Name = Odd

Francis Dinkelshpiel

It's true. I heard it on NPR.

Oprah's Butt Is Really Big = True

In case you aren't aware, at this moment on Larry King, the ENTIRE HOUR is being dedicated to OPRAH'S BIG FAT ASS. You might think I'm making it up but I'm not. I am as serious as a bag of $19.99 Organic Blue Corn Chips from Whole Foods. Which, apparently, Oprah can't get enough of.

There are three men on the show and they all have really different hair and they are all talking about Oprah's humongousness with severe expressions as if they were talking about the fact that they've all just learned that Larry's shoulders are attached to his arms BY his suspenders. Larry, obviously, is adorned in his usual snazzy attire, dripping in several shades of purple from head to toe. (when I say head to toe I mean head to waist actually because that's all you ever see of him.)I'm not sure what Larry makes of all this but he's hunched over in the way he usually is, driving the show forward, like a big ice cream truck.

Anyway, they're showing clips of her from a million years ago when she weighed like 40 pounds that one time and she brought a wagon of lard on her show to demonstrate how much fat she lost. It's all very dramatic and if you didn't know what the topic was you might think these Gravely Serious Men Talking About Oprah's Big Butt are talking about the recent downfall of the economy or the dangerous state of the world's ecosystems but soon you'd realize that they're actually talking about Oprah and her desire to consume large amounts of cream puffs and buffalo wings.

I've never seen anything like it. Except for everything.

Until Next Time,
Master Ringleader,
Circus In My Head

Things I Don't Understand, Items 7 thru 9

7. that crazy old windbag guy on ESPN that looks like Granny from the Beverly Hillbillies who argues with everyone and everything about nothing and is probably in a heated debate with his breakfast cereal right now
8. pimento loaf
9. when people say "katsup" instead of "ketchup"

2009 = Good

Today was one of, if not THE most gorgeous day here in Beautiful Place, California. I couldn't decide if it was a joke or a reward. Like some person up there in charge was trying to either encourage us or make us more wistful before we end whatever vacations we were on and re-enter the work YEAR. I tried to be all positive and uplifting to myself when I started to succumb to the Sunday weirds but it feels so gigantic to go back to the office after being in heaven for so long. That first day back never fails to feel like 18 years.

I found myself thinking about what we will do next weekend twice today. THE LONGING for more time to:

1. organize one more closet because it makes me woozy with glee
2. make another cup of tea
3. take another bag of clutter to the goodwill
4. talk about how Cooper is so cute it feels wrong for the 900th time
5. putz around, run errands, talk about going to a movie and going on a hike instead
6. try a new recipe
7. eat the new recipe and scream at the top of our lungs THIS IS SO GOOOOOD. OH MY GOD. THIS IS THE BEST THING I'VE EVER TASTED.
8. take another bath
9. play "who's voice" with my husband during commercials
10. read the paper in bed
11. stop every several hours or so to say BARACK OBAMA IS OUR PRESIDENT
12. sit and stare and wonder what I will wear while we watch the Inauguration
13. watch another 56 hours of Food Network

2008 was weird, odd, good, scary and it all would have been flushed straight down the crapper if not for Mister Community Organizer and now I think of 2008 as Brilliant Year or Best Bad Ass Year or The Year I Did Not Vomit After The Election.

Let's go be nice now.