Archive for February, 2012|Monthly archive page

Just Sayin’

In Game Day Sweet, GAME DAY SWEET: 2012 Season on February 29, 2012 at 11:24 pm


Even though everyone seems to thrive on bragging about how ‘busy’ they are (and yet, they watch every show on tv, see every movie and play Farmville) isn’t Nail Art the absolute proof that people have way too much time on their hands? Literally?!

What is this ridiculousness? Is there such a thing as ‘Fingernail Hoarders!’


Did it really take 37 hours to watch the Daytona 500 this year? And how did it happen that I (not the guys) ended up being the one to stick it out? I haven’t really cared about Nascar in a few years (since Earnhardt went to the other side) It was cancelled completely on Sunday. I do think it was a good idea to run the race Monday night instead of at 12:00 noon (otherwise everyone’s at work) and I think they should implement that from now on, for all postponed races.

Bizarro World?!!!

The crash that occurred when Juan Pablo Montoya lost control of his car and hit the safety patrol truck (loaded with 200 gallons of jet fuel!) was the most bizarre thing I have ever seen in Nascar! Everyone walked away, but the fire was something like ‘Inferno!’…this led to a two to three hour  delay, and at that point I was like: ‘I’ve stuck it out this far….’ and next thing you know: It’s 1am, and Matt Kenseth wins, Earnhardt in 2nd. Pretty anticlimactic. I still don’t know why I didn’t change the channel….I think I was hypnotized by that jet fuel!


I wasn’t a Davy Jones girl….but I sure loved reading Tiger Beat and 16 Magazine. Davy was one of the many cuties in those pages, and who can forget the Marcia Brady/Davy Jones Dance Debacle? The fact that we all swooned over those magazines was a testament to our ‘Daydream Believing!’

Word Up!

In Frayed Connections on February 28, 2012 at 9:05 pm


There’s a current trend in decorating that drives me crazy. It involves ‘Word Art’. When I see these word signs, I immediately get defensive. First off, I’m not an idiot. I don’t need a sign in the kitchen that reads ‘eat’. I know why I’m here. Likewise, I don’t need a sign that reads ‘Breathe’…I’m pretty much a master now. There are picture frames that read ‘Baby’ (‘Is that what that is?) and  “Cat’ and ‘Dog’ on the food dishes, even though I don’t think pets can read.

OMG! The Wall is NAGGING me to death! 

‘Live, Laugh, Love’ sounds like a demand to me. Obviously, I’m living if I’m reading your wall, but ‘Laugh?’ You’re going to have to give me a little stand-up material, or slip on a banana while holding a bunch of plates. (And- what if I did just start laughing for no reason because your sign told me to? You’d have me committed) Telling me to ‘Love’ strikes me as the kind of thing that, had I not considered it before reading your sign, I would forever be indebted to your wall. As for ‘Be Who You Are?’ Oh my God! You mean I have a choice?

Sometimes the words and phrases get a little too bossy for me, as well. ‘Achieve!’ makes me feel like I should have brought my resume, and don’t even get me started on ‘Live Your Dreams!’ Are you kidding me? Last night I dreamed I was at the DMV with Charlie from ‘Always Sunny In Philadelphia’ and there was a pool in the middle of the floor. As fun as that sounds- I just don’t have the time and resources to make that dream come true.

Another favorite is ‘Do What You Love!’ Oh yeah? You mean painting, acting, singing, dancing-that kind of thing? The ‘Dream’ jobs? Then who is going to do all the crappy jobs? I don’t think the accountant friend in middle management (who has this sign) is exactly ‘Doing What He Loves’, but either are most people, and still they live good lives, despite what their wall art thinks.

‘Believe’ is another popular one. Believe what? That a Facebook acquaintance I haven’t spoken to since 2009, is stuck in Sudan with no wallet and needs me to wire her $2,000? Believe in the Easter Bunny? In Evolution?  Don’t leave me hangin’ Oh Wise Words, please be a little more specific!

‘Stop bossin’ me around!’

Then, there are the signs I actually want to argue with: ‘Happiness Is…A Long Hot Bath!’ Really? Coz I’m more of a shower person. ‘Stay Positive!’ Stay? You mean ‘Get?’ -and why? Maybe I thrive on sarcasm and cynicism. Maybe that’s the one thing I actually am positive about!

‘Keep Calm and Carry On….’ What are we, carrying bushels of sticks on our backs, like the cover-art on Led Zeppelin 4? We have Netflix and Smart Phones and food and shelter! Are we that put upon?

How about ‘Memories’ -exactly what are we talking here- the good ones or the bad ones, or the ones that strike the corners of my mind?  ‘The Best Things In Life Are Free’ Are they? Then why aren’t the homeless jumping for joy? And why didn’t Target just let you have that sign? By making you pay for it, they were basically admitting: This wooden sentence does not qualify as a ‘best’ thing….

‘Keep Calm and Carry on’

Which brings me to this point: If you actually  do, in fact, have a motto or a philosophy- should you let Michael’s or Target tell you what it is? Mottos are a pretty big deal, something I’d rather choose on my own. And not impose on others. And for that I have no words.

This goes out to ALL of the wall words, past, present and future!

Lita Ford and The Cover Of The Rolling Stone….

In Music, The 80's on February 22, 2012 at 7:14 pm

OK- so after writing about Motley Crue, The Road Warrior, Sid & Nancy and the distinct differences between Creem and Hit Parader for the college paper ‘Soundings’, I was contacted by the editor of a local ‘music scene’ newspaper. This paper, ‘Vox Pop’ was available for free at record stores and supermarkets. The editor, who wore a beret, and gave off an eclectic vibe, did not come across as someone who would cover the Metal genre, but as an editor, he knew the music was blowing up, and after all we lived in the suburbs, so-duh!  He offered me a column (which I brilliantly called ‘Metal News’ Woah!) where I could write about the latest heavy metal happenings, and he  promised me I could interview some ‘real’ bands in the future! Naturally, I jumped at the chance!

Lita Ford-First cover! Next stop Rolling Stone!

After several columns, and interviews with a few local bands, I was assigned my first ‘real’ interview with Lita Ford. Formerly of the all girl band ‘The Runaways’ (with Joan Jett) Lita was now going solo, and had set her sights on rocking hard in the male dominated Hair Metal scene. Lita was edgy, and one of the first women who played guitar (her trademark BC Rich’s) and sang. The male fans loved her leather clad, sex-kitten image, and the female fans envied her guitar playing and singing (I often wonder why so many girls in the 80s- myself included- automatically saw ourselves as ‘side stories’ to the music. We might write about it, date musicians, or promote them- but rarely did we set out to participate in the metal genre as musicians. Years later, Courtney Love, pre-Hollywood! would slap some kitten stickers on an axe, write her own lyrics & music -be as badass as any guy on stage- and sing with all of the guttural magnetism of Axl Rose.  Which made me see that it could be done, if one had the guts – and the thick skin it would take to plow through the initial criticism of ‘not acting like a lady!’) Lita, being a decade or more earlier, had to walk the tight rope of presenting herself as a sex object while asking to be taken seriously at the same time. Plus, she was practically the only female out there doing it in the hard rock world, which was beyond a boys club.

Joan Jett, Leif Garret and Lita (w/Lionel Ritchie to the right)

 I headed out on the highway,on the day of the interview with Lita, in my 1982 Firebird (like the Knight Rider car,which everyone pointed out, which at the time was taken as a  compliment.) It was new quarter silver with had black louvers, and a kick ass stereo.

I was meeting Lita at a Ramada Inn the day before her show with Twisted Sister and Ratt. Of course, I was going to that show with friends the following night. I decided not to bring any of said friends to the interview- despite their incessant begging. I wanted to concentrate on Lita, and come through for ‘Vox Pop’. I knew that none of my friends could keep quiet for five minutes in general, let alone for thirty minutes in the presence of a rock star. So ,I took off, being sure I had brand new batteries in my portable tape player, a polaroid camera to get a shot or two of Lita, and my trusty pad and pen for notes. Things were pretty old school in 1984, kids!


Like I said, in 1984, Lita Ford was one of the few women in Hard Rock. She was still four years away from ‘Kiss Me Deadly’ and her duet with Ozzy Osbourne ‘Close My Eyes Forever’. She had just released her second LP, ‘Dancin’ On The Edge’ which contained the hit ‘Gotta Let Go’. I was as immersed in the hard rock scene as anyone, so I felt completely at ease with discussing music with Lita, but was naturally nervous to interview a burgeoning ‘star’. Though I’d met quite a few already, I’d never had to formally sit them down, and try to extract something interesting from them about which to write. I was also naive enough to believe that if I did an interview here and there (while living my  pedal to the metal, up all night lifestyle,working and going to school- not to mention conducting a completely tumultuous love life) that I would wind up doing cover stories for Rolling Stone in no time! Looking back, I can only blush with embarrassment at my naivete!

Lita, on the Twisted Sister/Ratt Tour of 84

Lita was cool as hell- we had an instant rapport- like I said- I was waaaay into the music, and could discuss all of my favorite guitar players, shows I’d been too, rock rumors,things I’d noticed about Lita’s style, the whole nine. We were both well versed in lesser known, but phenomenal guitarists like Michael Schenker, and boy could I wax poetic about my favorite solos. Many of which Lita got excited about. “Yeah! Yeah! I love that too!” I had to cut the interview by half- that’s how long we talked. I was absolutely floored when Tony Iommi (lead guitarist in Black Sabbath) appeared at our table like a heavy-metal apparition, as Lita had just that second been raving about him as an early influence, to which I could not agree  more!

Evidently, they were dating, but Lita asked me not to mention it because the situation was a little dicey. Whatever that meant! (He was married) I was so excited to keep Lita’s secret, flattered  to be brought into her confidence, that I wouldn’t even tell the editor of the paper who ‘the Unknown Guitarist’ in the interview was!  I suppose if I’d been a great journalist, I would not only have mentioned Tony, but also led with it. Tony soon sent over two orange juices -one for each of us (no vodka, to Lita’s chagrin!) which I took as a little nod of politeness from my favorite gentlemanly Rock God!


Below is the interview that was in the paper. It’s really hard to piece together, but I tried. I also have the complete taped interview. Pretty cool stuff. (Oh- and Lita gave me one of Tony’s guitar picks, straight out of her pocket- a prized possession to this day!!) And no- I never did see my byline on the cover of the Rolling Stone. But I did get five copies for my mother of the cover of the Vox Pop! 

View from the booth!


The ‘Real’ Steven Tyler….Of Westport, Conn!!

In Music on February 17, 2012 at 11:37 pm

‘Cool’ Steven, circa 1970’s

I’m not gonna lie: it kills me to see the ‘cool’ rockstars of my day, sell out, one by one. There was a day when the thought of a sixty-three year old Steven Tyler appearing on a music game show on network television, with a diva/ pop-star and some dweeby guy who thinks saying ‘Dawg’ over and over again epitomizes cool would be the stuff of bad (and weird)- dreams. But here we are, and there Steven Tyler is, on a family show ( one that has all of the coolness cache as an old episode of ‘Happy Days’), and there he is again, sitting around in an Oprah special, confessing that he has no friends. But no worries, Steven- Oprah will be your friend. At least for as long as you keep your American Idol job. Oh- and if you can actually get her ‘real’ number….I, however, can’t help but think of a different Steve Tyler, a cutting edge, original, dripping with sweat and sexual innuendo Steven Tyler, who along with his toxic twin, Joe Perry (the utmost of foxes!) was someone you’d hide from your parents, not gather around the tv and watch with them! A seemingly dangerous, yet sexy guy who would laugh hysterically at the mere thought of cozying up to (and kissing the ass of) a daytime tv talk show host like Oprah Winfrey!

I wouldn’t sell out if my life depended on it!

In the 1970’s, Aerosmith rocked hard. When I was-I don’t know- 13? 14? I related sooo much to Aerosmith. I hung pictures of Tyler and Perry on my walls, wore flowing scarves and tons of sterling silver and turquoise jewelry, which I painstakingly picked out at Aspasia’s Jewelry store in Westport, Conn for it’s inherent ‘bad-assness’. I dressed like Steven Tyler’s mic stand. What I didn’t know then, was that years before, in the mid to late 60’s, Steven Tyler (Tallarico, then) was playing in a band called “The Strangeurs’right there in Westport – the next town over from mine! Henry Smith, who lived in Westport and met Tyler during the summer when he vacationed in New Hampshire,said in the book, ‘Walk This Way’, that he thought Steven’s band was so good, he began booking them in Westport. Their first gig: The Christmas Cotillion of Fairfield County! This was a snooty debutante ball, which usually hired an orchestra, but couldn’t book one that year due to scheduling conflicts. Henry told his mom: ‘Don’t worry- I have a band’ So, the Strangeurs were paid $500, and everyone was fine until the band showed up at the country club in long hair, dungarees, and a snotty attitude (note: well at least they had the attitude part right!) Henry recalled: “Steven was complaining that he had nothing cool to wear, so I cut the sleeves off my grandmother’s mink coat and gave it to him to wear as a vest. They looked like the Rolling Stones but even more disreputable.” The chaperones were horrified, according to Henry. “How could you?” they hissed at my mother. But the kids just went nuts. It was the best cotillion they’d ever had!”

I’ll be at the Ice Cream Parlor. Check it Out!

The Strangeurs even played a dance at the Ice Cream Parlor in Westport (note: I was still a little kid.  Remember that place? Across the street from where Sam Goody’s music store eventually stood? Candy hanging everywhere, all those giant lollipops,in crazy colors- the size of record albums!) Says Steve Tyler: “We made $100 for the whole band. There were some trampolines out back of this club and this kid comes out and tells me to stop jumping on them. It got my back up until I found out this kid was Scott Newman*, a friend of Henry Smith’s and actor Paul Newman’s son. We went back to Scott’s house after the show and ended up in the sauna with Paul Newman, drinking brandy all night.”

Joe Perry & Steven Tyler, 70s

Joe Perry & Steven Tyler, 70s

Steven continues: “Henry Smith got us a gig opening for the Yardbirds at Staples High School (on October 22, 1966. Dammit! I was five!) We drove up in my mother’s station wagon at the same time the Yardbirds arrived in their van. I got out and carried an amp into the gym. I don’t even know whose it was. Then I got out again and see Jimmy Page carrying my mike stand. That’s how it was in those days.”

I had seen the Yardbirds play somewhere the previous summer with both Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page in the band. In fact, I got them to autograph a piece of cardboard. In Westport we found out that Jeff had left the band and Jimmy was playing lead guitar by himself. I watched him from the edge of the stage and all I can say is that he knocked my tits off. They did ‘Train Kept A Rollin’ “and it was just so heavy. They were just an un-fuckin’ believable band.” So, for all of my pals in Ct- we were too young to partake, but believe it or not- the preppies at Staples High School, in 1966 had the best prom ever- featuring both Steven Tyler and Jimmy Page! And I’d never heard a word about it until I read the book ‘Walk This Way’ by Stephen Davis!


My own first experience with Steven, in person (sort of) was in the mid 70’s, when I went to see Aerosmith at The New Haven Coliseam, only the second concert I’d ever been to (the first had been at Colt Park, an outdoor stadium, that in my mind still looks exactly like the pictures I’ve seen of Woodstock, but probably wasn’t, as the place was shut down due to it’s state of disrepair and violence) I went to the Aerosmith show with my awesomely cool and beautiful friend Victoria, who had been to all kinds of concerts before this one, and was the most glamorous person I knew. She was so cool in fact, that we drove to the concert in her Mom’s car and she  was only 15, and didn’t yet have a license*.But she had permission to drive the car, because she’d shown her Mom what a great driver she was. And she was! (I know some helicopter parents in my age group just had heart attacks, but how many times a day does that happen to you anyway, as you worry and hover? In the 70’s, it was different.We weren’t our parents whole world. Which resulted in us actually moving out and living on our own, at early ages.)  Anyway-  Rick Derringer opened up for Tyler and Co., and  he was great, jammin’ the ‘Rock’N’Roll Hootchie Koo’. Sounded perfect.  Victoria and I sat on the edge of the Level One stairs, to the right of the stage, our legs dangling in the air (a forbidden spot, but Victoria got us special permission for being so pretty) When Aerosmith hit the stage though, it was a nightmare. Steven Tyler was so inebriated, he messed up all of the words to the songs, and the music was off. I couldn’t believe it! I actually asked Victoria if people could get their money back if the band sucked. Victoria rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, and lit another cigarette. I took that as a ‘no’.

Rick Derringer, Steven Tyler, 1970s

I went on to see Aerosmith many times after that, and they performed magnificently. When Tyler was on, his cock-of-the-walk style couldn’t be messed with. I can’t forget all of the hours I spent listening to Aerosmith records on my giant headphones in my 1970s style bedroom. Songs like ‘You See Me Crying’, ‘Kings And Queens’ and ‘Seasons Of Wither’ – in the dead of winter, wrapped up in sweaters and teenage angst, sometimes crying through the songs. Others, like ‘Lord Of The Thighs’ ‘Lick and a Promise’ and ‘No More, No More’ were nastier, hard rockers.  And when ‘Rocks’ came out- I was floored! It was the heaviest thing I’d ever heard! If I could have  literally eaten it up, I would have. Only Van Halen’s debut album, two years later- felt anything like that- ever. Steven Tyler was for real- and I believed him to be an authentic rocker, born and bred. And I know people change, evolve, get older- the whole nine.But there’s something so mainstream and middle of the road about becoming part of a shitty musical game show (whether it’s true or not, music isn’t a game to me. And shouldn’t be treated as such. I like to think of it as a heartfelt expression, not something to ridicule or manipulate. Or get into for the accouterments. Or sit around and watch with the grandparents and kids- like some G-rated Disney movie. Sorry- but that’s not my thing or my music!) So, when I see Soccer Moms laughing about Steven Tyler’s quirky personalty, or ‘funny clothes’ I want to just say:”Trust me, you don’t know the half of it. And I’m pretty sure if you did, you’d be appalled!” Coz the  Steven Tyler I know used to be a real rocker. He scared Soccer Moms! He stood for everything they are against! Of course, that was eons ago, in a different, and much cooler world!

*sadly, Scott Newman eventually died of a drug overdose, in 1978, at age 28. 

*Victoria at least had her learner’s permit, and was scheduled to get her license the following week!


In Frayed Connections on February 15, 2012 at 2:15 pm

I first joined Twitter about a year ago. It was one of those reluctant ‘if you can’t beat ’em, join em’ type things. I didn’t need it- I feel over-connected already. But it was impossible to ignore it’s popularity. So I made up a username, secured a password, and went in, to see what the big deal was.

These can’t be real, right?

I hit the ground running, signing up for all of the comedians I liked, from Chris Rock to Louis C.K., the few celebs I could stand which include the staff at Chelsea Lately, Joel McHale, and stars of shows I like, including The League, 30 Rock, and Always Sunny In Philadelphia, plus lots of NFL players, and literally no one I actually know in real life. (I couldn’t find anyone!) Time to sit back and see what happens…I set my e-mail notifications  and let ‘er roll.

Leah Remini: Jets Fan!

The first thing I noticed was what the celebs were saying involved promoting their latest projects. There wasn’t a lot of talking back and forth- lots of celebs were talking ‘at’ the regular people. There’s no way that a system like that would have all of this success, I thought- there’s got to be more to it.

Eventually, I found myself volunteering answers to some of the open ended questions that the celebs might ask in a rare moment of selflessness: what did you think of the show last night? What’s your favorite song? (Especially if it’s one of mine!)  

Once I got the hang of it, I slowly began to interact with the comedians, tweeting out wise-ass answers and comments. Of course, I was virtually ignored. Then, one day, I got a personal message from Leah Remini talking about the New York Jets. I was thrilled – wow!- a tv star is talking to me! (Yeah- this  coming from someone who ‘can’t stand’ celebs- until they talk to me!) This flattering interaction inspired me to polish up my ‘act’ and go full throttle into responding to celebrities. Loni Love, from Chelsea Lately messaged me (twice!) including an ‘Oh Snap!’ in response to one of my observations. Heather McDonald wrote back to tell me my comment was ‘Funny!’ while I was reading her book! Kat Von D and I talked about the  music playing at the airport. Even the Honey Badger wrote me back to tell me he didn’t care! (Hi, Jen Kirkman) The Bronx Zoo Cobra, who was on the loose, sent me a ‘Sssssss’. Wow! I was getting swept up in a wave of intimacy with  famous people (and celebrity wildlife!) who would probably never speak to me in person! It was heady!

Kat hates airport music, too! Amazing!

Now I wanted to be re-tweeted, which was the next level in Twitter feedback. This is when a celeb actually holds up what you said in front of everyone as if to say: ‘Look at the genius comment I just found’ and it’s the gold star of Tweets. So I started tossing out my best material. I spent hours experimenting  with what I thought were excellent comebacks. It felt a lot like trying to get behind some imaginary red-velvet ropes at a premiere. Or the real ones at Studio 54.

I finally figured out (months later!) that in 99% of all cases, the sacred ‘Re-Tweets’ are compliments and kissing up to said star. For instance, if you say: ‘So-and-so is the best comedian in the world! Needed Oxygen, I laughed so hard!!!’ you would get re-tweeted. If you complimented (really, really sucked up) their latest movie or book-particularly if it was in stores or theaters, you’d get re-tweeted. In fact, it could be called ‘Ass-Kiss-Palooza!’  ‘Enough about me! What do you think about me?!’ And though I’ve done a lot of things for love- I won’t do that! I had to stop with this.

But just to be sure I wasn’t being too cynical, I purposely tweeted a very cute athlete, who made the play-offs this year, telling him how good-looking he was, and what a stellar athlete he was, complimenting a certain play. Purposely kissing up, as hard as I could. (I don’t want to say who it was, because he’s no more self-absorbed than any other athlete) Sure enough, I got my first re-tweet. And with that, I stopped responding to celebs on Twitter. I just can’t waste hours possibly giving comedians free material (it could happen!)- or kissing up to athletes in the hopes that they’ll acknowledge my existence by commenting on theirs! Not when I have a life to show up for.

“I can give you some tips”

If there’s one good thing about Twitter, it’s the pictures. Celebs and athletes post photos they take during their hectic lives, so you can see their pets, kids, travels and backstage antics. These aren’t the professional shots you see everywhere, so it’s cool. For that reason- and that reason alone, I keep my Twitter account open! But it sure is easy to see how people get sucked in. Being ‘knighted’ with a response or re-tweet sure feels special. And also a lot like being an unpaid Public Relations person!! Or an movie extra. No, wait- they usually get a sandwich.

Houston: We’ve Got A Problem!

In Music on February 12, 2012 at 12:49 pm

 I am sorry that Whitney Houston died, but I am not surprised. Everyone knows she was fighting the demons of drug addiction, and unfortunately, losing. 

I was never a fan of Whitney’s music, but I could appreciate that she was very talented and beautiful. Back in the 80’s-the hoopla with the ‘Bodyguard’ and Kevin Costner and the song “I Will Always Love You’ was a classic. Good for her.

But there is a certain ‘glee’ that comes with celebrity death that sickens me. It’s a cycle. First: The race to be the first to post the info! Everyone wants to be the town cryer. Then, people  who don’t even listen to Whitney Houston’s music, post videos of her songs (that no one will watch) as if that is some great tribute. (Had they posted those videos before yesterday, it may have helped her career- but at that point she was a washed up, ex-singing star, whose music was out of favor, and no one cared!)

But here’s the part that really brings me down: The posting of the tabloid-ish, ‘look-what-a-mess she was before she died!’ articles. Belligerent at the club, unexplained blood stains on her legs- SEE HOW PATHETIC SHE WAS, EVERYBODY! This will go on for awhile.After all-  it’s entertainment! 

The final stage will be after that, when all pictures of her ‘sad’ antics disappear, and the 80’s Whitney, young and beautiful, will hit the Facebook pages and Twitter, just as all of the old and fat pictures Liz Taylor have seemingly disappeared, and now she is seen only as a beautiful young girl, once again.

If we really had any respect for Whitney Houston, we wouldn’t be so ‘giddy’ about her death, clucking like hens.(Fasten your seat-belts for Bobbie Brown’s grief, the bios, the compilations….) We wouldn’t look at the terrible photos, and read all of the horrific drug addled stories that will no doubt be making the rounds. Already I have seen awful Headlines about her ‘terrible last days’- and that’s just by powering up my computer! 

Out of respect for her children, we should write nasty letters to the outlets that publish these pictures and stories and we shouldn’t talk back and forth about her death, sounding so relieved that it wasn’t our daughter or wife or friend.

Most people, were they honest, would have to admit they haven’t given Whitney Houston a single thought, in years. People like Whitney die every day, and they get no accolades. (Well- why should they? It’s not like they could sing!)

For people lucky enough to be born with a voice or staggering beauty, wealth or notoriety in music, books and films, we jump at the chance to say good-bye-regardless of whether we really gave a damn about them as they struggled to fight their demons-when they actually needed support.

Did I forget to mention the ‘ridicule’ phase?

I’m not saying  we shouldn’t acknowledge Whitney Houston’s death. I know most of us only mean well. But there’s something  celebratory about the reactions. A good rule of thumb might be-if it’s not someone that you  liked and followed while they were alive, don’t act like it’s a tragedy in your life, when they die. Because you just look waaaay too excited about it. 

For the love of god-WHO CARES??!!

In Television on February 11, 2012 at 7:13 pm

It takes me forever to read my newspaper. I only receive it on the weekends, and still- I manage to put aside the Leisure and Travel sections, saving them for some unforeseen day when I’ll have nothing to do (and no book to read!) After a few weeks of piling up, I usually end up tossing them (thank you ‘Hoarders’ for scaring me neat!) 

Today I was placing a pile in my recycle bin, when the cover of the Travel section caught my eye. The subject of this New Years Day 2012 article was titled ‘The End’, and the tagline read: If the Mayan calendar means it’s over; here’s where celebs would head. Are you kidding me? We are now going to discuss (disgust?) where celebrities will pamper themselves, should our last days on earth seem inevitable?

 Do I even need to mention that the Mayan calendar bullsh**is not something I buy into, it’s just the latest ‘Save The Date’ for the wackos. But for the sake of laughs, I’ll entertain the thought. I can’t even  wrap my head around caring about anything a celebrity might do in general- let alone in a world-ending situation. And let’s not even get into the logistics, such as how anyone would know the day, how they’d manage to travel- you know: throw common sense out the window or your mind will get all tangled up!)

So, lets see what we have in terms of answers: (I will be paraphrasing to keep it compact) First up is Jewel. Now- I have nothing against Jewel- she is a truly talented singer (not ‘American Idol’ good- which I take to be ‘better than the other contestants’ – Jewel is GENUINELY talented) though she threw me for a loop (no pun intended) when she hooked up with that rodeo guy and again when she tried to tart herself up like a pop star to change her image. I liked the snaggle-toothed, unplugged Jewel just fine. She was endearing.

Since Jewel’s family stars on a survival show called ‘Alaska: The Last Frontier’ (on Discovery Network) where her father and brothers live off the land (I’ve never seen anyone go to such lengths to avoid getting real jobs! har har)  I figured she’d say Alaska, with actual survivalists that she knows and loves, but no.

Her answer: “I don’t want to go into the end-of-the-world part, but we’d probably go to the Bahamas. We like to go to the outer islands”

Well- to each her own, but that seems a little -I dunno-shallow for a ‘last days on earth’ location. I’m thinking end-of-the-world seems more like an overcast day kind of adventure!

The Bahamas? Really?

Tinsel Korey (some chick from Twilight, Breaking Dawn) (btw: Who names their kid Tinsel?)  says: “I would fly to Bora-Bora. Wearing a fluffy robe, drenched in lavender-eucalyptus (apocolyptic?) lotion, eating a cupcake, while I smiled at a Dolphin that would just happen to be swimming around near me. Got to go out in style right?” (this sounds- I kid you not- like a scene from the 1984 movie ‘The Night Of The Comet’. A movie so bad it’s good!) Anyway- it also sounds like the answer a My Little Pony would give, but whatever.

“It better not be Boring-Boring!”

Curt Menefee (Fox NFL Sunday) goes on and on about a town in Uruguay. He ends it by saying that once he’s there, staring out at the ocean,  ‘since he won’t have to get up the next day, a nice bottle of wine-and maybe even a shot of tequilla -wouldn’t be a bad way to say adios to it all” (What’s with the ‘maybe?’)

“and thank you for joining us for the last season of NFL, ever”

Finally we have Alexis Bellino from ‘The Real Housewives of Orange County’ (a show I have never seen, but have no problem imagining) She says: “I would fly my entire family to Bora Bora because we love the beautiful water and sand! (note: She does understand this isn’t going to be a picnic, right?!) ‘

‘We would throw the biggest best party ever and celebrate (note: celebrate?) with music, our favorite cocktail- margaritas in fancy (note: gotta have ‘fancy’ at the ‘we’re gonna die’ party, fer sure!)- and our favorite food- pizza!”

Ahem: A few things here: Do you get the idea that she pictures this party being catered by the most super-conscientious cooks and servers in the world, who -even though the god-damned world is ENDING!, will serve the vapid housewife pseudo-celeb rather than be with their families?

Even the opening of this article admits that on the Earth’s last day ‘service might be be slow” Ya think? Do you suppose Ms. Bellino will invite Ms. Tinsel over as well, so they can have deep convos about Twilight and boys who sparkle? And, like me, don’t you kind of feel that if these are the last people being pampered on the earth during that crucial time,that it really is time for the world to end? 

“I’ll be more than happy to represent the human race, K?”


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