I'm awful at blogging regularly these days. Enough said.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, life has been poking along as usual, though I did spend a week in Cincinnati, which was a nice change of pace. Now that I'm back, the cats can't seem to get close enough to me, and look on suspicously whenever I step out the door. At the moment, they're both hovering over me at the desk, occasionally causing odd typos by crowding around the keyboard until I set them firmly back on the floor.
I've just watched the 1975 documentary, Grey Gardens. It was filmed by the brothers who made Gimme Shelter, and is an oddly beautiful and bleak look into the lives of Edith Bouvier Beale, and her daughter, Edie. The women are relatives of Jackie O., and spent a good part of their lives in high society, and living exceedingly comfortably. However, at the time of the documentary, they're cloistered into a decaying summer homes owned by Edith.
The strangeness of certain remnants of their former lives against their current circumstances is part of what makes the documentary riveting--in the same way a train wreck is. Edith, her sparse white hair swept up into a 1930's style, spends most of her days propped up in stale bed covered in newspapers, old photographs, and cats. She talks in her aritstocratic east coast accent about her days as a singer, and contemplates giving herself "a month to get my voice back" so she can be a celebrated woman of the stage again.
Edie, the younger of the two, is in her fifties, but seems very like a teenage girl. She has a kind of naivety that is surprising, and tends to giggle to herself about things. At the same time as fiercely longing to be "outside," she fears the outside world, and this fear is part of the the chain that traps her with her mother. When she's not grumpily following her mother's orders, she spends her days feeding the crowd of cats, dancing, dumping bread onto a newspaper in the attic for the racoons. She also gazes off the back balcony with binoculars into the sea of overgrown foliage and vines that is the backyard, and beyond that, the real ocean.
There's a short scene that really sums the entire film in all its tragicomedy-- Edith is fighting with Edie about whose fault their circumstances are. Edie stops long enough to point at a large framed portrait of Edith in her younger days. It's a beautiful piece of art, in a gilded frame, leaned against the wall on a pile of old magazines and trash. "Ma, the cat's going to the bathroom behind it!" Edie declares, and old Edith takes a glance and remarks, "Well, at least someone's doing what they want around here."
I recommend watching Grey Gardens with a couple of people and bottle of wine. It'll make for a quiet and thoughtful time. Some of it is quite funny, in a sad sort of way.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
The Promised Zatarain's Run-down.
Do the newer Zatarain's commericals bother anyone else? Ad concept: a family sits down for dinner, and one parent, because of the fabulous taste or smell of Zatarian's rice product, is transported mentally to a street in New Orleans during Mardi Gras. It's a party, I tell you! Then then, suddenly, they realize where they are.
My problem with these commercials is... have the people who came up with the concept ever been to Mardi Gras? I can just barely swallow the idea of a ridiculous and awkward father pretending to lead a marching band using a dishrag. He's about as full of soul as a sieve is full of water. But I suppose I can buy it. His small son looks at him derisively, clearly counting the days until the parent-child divorce goes into effect.
What I can't get my mind around is the commercial where the mother flashes back to Mardi Gras while delivering Zatarain's rice to the table. She's in a crowd of cheering, brightly dressed party goers, and confetti and beads are flying. "Throw me some beads, Mister!!" she screams, and then realizes that she's standing in the dining room with her little nuclear family staring at her in confusion.
Does something about that seem just a little off? What is it that the writers are just tempting you to think with that commercial? Well, what happens when a "party lady" wants beads from a man on a float during Mardi Gras? Come on. YES. She screams "Throw me some beads, Mister!!" and either flings her bra, or lifts her shirt over her head, exposing her boobies. Did they seriously think no one was going to snicker at that?
I'm sure I'm not the only one thinking that. And if you hadn't thought of it, don't write to tell me how naughty my mind is. I already know. It's Zatarain's who are naughty, I tell you!
My problem with these commercials is... have the people who came up with the concept ever been to Mardi Gras? I can just barely swallow the idea of a ridiculous and awkward father pretending to lead a marching band using a dishrag. He's about as full of soul as a sieve is full of water. But I suppose I can buy it. His small son looks at him derisively, clearly counting the days until the parent-child divorce goes into effect.
What I can't get my mind around is the commercial where the mother flashes back to Mardi Gras while delivering Zatarain's rice to the table. She's in a crowd of cheering, brightly dressed party goers, and confetti and beads are flying. "Throw me some beads, Mister!!" she screams, and then realizes that she's standing in the dining room with her little nuclear family staring at her in confusion.
Does something about that seem just a little off? What is it that the writers are just tempting you to think with that commercial? Well, what happens when a "party lady" wants beads from a man on a float during Mardi Gras? Come on. YES. She screams "Throw me some beads, Mister!!" and either flings her bra, or lifts her shirt over her head, exposing her boobies. Did they seriously think no one was going to snicker at that?
I'm sure I'm not the only one thinking that. And if you hadn't thought of it, don't write to tell me how naughty my mind is. I already know. It's Zatarain's who are naughty, I tell you!
Saturday, February 10, 2007
*CUTE ALERT*CUTE ALERT*
Warning! Your head may explode while playing any one of these adorable little flash games. People whose heads are prone to exploding due to cuteness should check with their doctors before clicking the following link:
This has been a public serivce announcement from the Department for the Prevention of Cute-related Injuries.
This has been a public serivce announcement from the Department for the Prevention of Cute-related Injuries.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Another Post for the Commercial Hall of Shame
Now that Superbowl Sunday is over, and I've watched all the commercials (online) that I forgot to watch at the same time as I didn't watch the game... (?) it's gotten me thinking about a couple commercials which ought to be stricken forever from the broadcast lineups. Both commercials make me cringe in distinctly different ways.
Offender #1: Office Depot's "Lend you a Hand" commercials
"No. NO NO! NO-NO-NO!!" That is what I would have said, accompanied by a smack with a rolled up newspaper, to the marketing team responsible for this campaign. The first time I glimpsed one of these things, I noted the crisp office envionment, the obvious whites and reds, and I thought, "Oh neat! A Staples "Easy Button" commercial I haven't yet seen!" How wrong I was.
Perhaps explaining what is good about the "Easy button" campagin will help explain what is so stinky about the "Lend you a hand" campaign.
Easy Button: After some office consternation, someone presses the Staples "easy button," wherein all their problems are miraculously solved. The button is a fun and witty little representation of all the services Staples offers. We know printer ink doesn't fall from the sky when you press the easy button, but it gets the point across nicely, and I enjoy the multiple takes on how the world works in the little Staples alternate universe. I see it, and I remember the brand--it's Staples, and it's easy to get things done there! Right?
Lend you a Hand: In these commercials, some actor melodramatically heaves sighs about how much work there is to do, and another person declares overcheerfully, "Sounds like YOU need a hand!" At this point, a suspicious parcel on someone's desk explodes open, a disembodied hand shooting out the top. Rather than fleeing in terror, everyone congratulates each other as though it were the finale of a vintage Mentos commercial. "Oh, you...I guess you made a pun!" What miracles does the hand perform, you ask? Does it show them amazing shortcuts and exemplify all the things Office Depot employees can help you accomplish? Does it snap its fingers and cause the office supplies to be restocked? Actually, no. Well....uh... it waves. And it points at things. And it probably gives people the finger when the camera's not rolling.
It's pointless. Someone hands it a paper, and it puts the paper into the box, which happens to be oh...a foot or two away from the person handing it the paper. So are they saying using Office Depot adds more steps to what ought to be simple tasks? An office worker labors behind an overfilled shopping cart. Perched atop the pile, the hand in its box points imperiously at various things that the office worker knows he needs to get anyway. Does this exemplify Office Depot customer service? When asked for help, do they wordlessly point at something out of reach on a shelf?
Come on now--they're not even giving you a hand, They're lending it to you. God knows they'll probably crap out on giving you your deposit back if the cuticles aren't just so when you return it.
Seriously though, these commercials just fall flat. They're not amusing, the early-nineties over the top jingle is annoying, and it's a blatent and lame attempt to copy the "Easy Button" commercials. Boo on you, Office Depot!
Next up, Zatarain's: Dirty Rice and dirty old men!
Offender #1: Office Depot's "Lend you a Hand" commercials
"No. NO NO! NO-NO-NO!!" That is what I would have said, accompanied by a smack with a rolled up newspaper, to the marketing team responsible for this campaign. The first time I glimpsed one of these things, I noted the crisp office envionment, the obvious whites and reds, and I thought, "Oh neat! A Staples "Easy Button" commercial I haven't yet seen!" How wrong I was.
Perhaps explaining what is good about the "Easy button" campagin will help explain what is so stinky about the "Lend you a hand" campaign.
Easy Button: After some office consternation, someone presses the Staples "easy button," wherein all their problems are miraculously solved. The button is a fun and witty little representation of all the services Staples offers. We know printer ink doesn't fall from the sky when you press the easy button, but it gets the point across nicely, and I enjoy the multiple takes on how the world works in the little Staples alternate universe. I see it, and I remember the brand--it's Staples, and it's easy to get things done there! Right?
Lend you a Hand: In these commercials, some actor melodramatically heaves sighs about how much work there is to do, and another person declares overcheerfully, "Sounds like YOU need a hand!" At this point, a suspicious parcel on someone's desk explodes open, a disembodied hand shooting out the top. Rather than fleeing in terror, everyone congratulates each other as though it were the finale of a vintage Mentos commercial. "Oh, you...I guess you made a pun!" What miracles does the hand perform, you ask? Does it show them amazing shortcuts and exemplify all the things Office Depot employees can help you accomplish? Does it snap its fingers and cause the office supplies to be restocked? Actually, no. Well....uh... it waves. And it points at things. And it probably gives people the finger when the camera's not rolling.
It's pointless. Someone hands it a paper, and it puts the paper into the box, which happens to be oh...a foot or two away from the person handing it the paper. So are they saying using Office Depot adds more steps to what ought to be simple tasks? An office worker labors behind an overfilled shopping cart. Perched atop the pile, the hand in its box points imperiously at various things that the office worker knows he needs to get anyway. Does this exemplify Office Depot customer service? When asked for help, do they wordlessly point at something out of reach on a shelf?
Come on now--they're not even giving you a hand, They're lending it to you. God knows they'll probably crap out on giving you your deposit back if the cuticles aren't just so when you return it.
Seriously though, these commercials just fall flat. They're not amusing, the early-nineties over the top jingle is annoying, and it's a blatent and lame attempt to copy the "Easy Button" commercials. Boo on you, Office Depot!
Next up, Zatarain's: Dirty Rice and dirty old men!
Preach it, Bourdain!
Anthony Bourdain has concisely expressed everything I think about the Food Network in one fell swoop.
Where's my Alton? Where's my Mario? And WHERE in tarnation is my Nigella?? Yes, the woman happens to be gorgeous, but she's also unpretentious, slightly nerdy, and absolutely passionate about food.
Why does the Food Network assume I'd rather watch Paula Dean squawk, "Tuhday we're gonna make some deep fraahd budder topped with lard, y'all!" than something as interesting and mouthwateringly informative as Molto Mario?
Where's my Alton? Where's my Mario? And WHERE in tarnation is my Nigella?? Yes, the woman happens to be gorgeous, but she's also unpretentious, slightly nerdy, and absolutely passionate about food.
Why does the Food Network assume I'd rather watch Paula Dean squawk, "Tuhday we're gonna make some deep fraahd budder topped with lard, y'all!" than something as interesting and mouthwateringly informative as Molto Mario?
Friday, February 02, 2007
Ta-da!
Although I got some lovely gifts for Christmas, this was one of my favorites: From J&J, a ceramic robot head that holds a roll of toilet paper for dispensing through the mouth. The Engrish on the box states: Roll Paper Horder!
I blow my nose on its tongue. Ew. And, poor thing, when I need cheering up, I (fondly) mock it by cutting the paper thusly:
Huk huk!
One of the resons I love it so, is that it reminds me of the other red robot.
No series of Christmas pictures would be complete without a picture of my adorable niece with her new life sized Raggedy Ann. Some brilliant soul came up with the idea of making velcro loops on RA's feet, so they can be slipped over the shoes of the little owner, facilatiating lots of happy duo dancing.
The end!
I blow my nose on its tongue. Ew. And, poor thing, when I need cheering up, I (fondly) mock it by cutting the paper thusly:
Huk huk!One of the resons I love it so, is that it reminds me of the other red robot.
No series of Christmas pictures would be complete without a picture of my adorable niece with her new life sized Raggedy Ann. Some brilliant soul came up with the idea of making velcro loops on RA's feet, so they can be slipped over the shoes of the little owner, facilatiating lots of happy duo dancing.
The end!
it's just like that.
What can I say? I hate the "new Blogger," so I don't think of blogging all that often. I'm sure I'll get over it, though. In terms of basic function, sure--it does what it's supposed to do. I like that I can apply tags to my posts for searching later. However, this rigamarole about signing in to new or old blogger is apparently too complicated for their programmers. The entire site now freaks out when I attempt to use Firefox (my regular browser) . I've done the whole song and dance about updating, contacting them, redoing cookies, blah blah. In the end, if I want to blog, I'll just have to use another browser.
Rant concluded.
How is everyone?
Rant concluded.
How is everyone?
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