1.  I have never used an ATM machine.  I have a feeling it would be the beginning of a bad personal habit.

2.  I still have never watched a single Survivor-type show.  Still not interested.

3.  Ditto for Oprah, and even less interested.

4.  The Christmas wreath is probably still on the front door; we never use the front door, so I really couldn’t tell you for sure.  If you stop by, and the wreath is still there, please lift it down and lean it against the porch wall.  I’ll no doubt find it when I hide the Easter eggs.

5.  I’d like to tell you all that I still haven’t ever peeked at the answers in the back of a crossword puzzle book, but the fact is, I did.  Last week.  So much for that claim to fame.  Only once, though.

6.  I still haven’t outgrown my fascination with and liking for Spencer Gifts.

7.  I still enjoy the electronics section of a store more than the clothing section.

8.  I’m sorry, but I still snort when teachers get all excited while they tell me about fascinating new and innovative theories or techniques for student engagement that are nothing but recycled and renamed old stuff that’s being marketed and sold as something that will definitely work even though it failed miserably the first few rounds.  On second thought, I’m not really sorry.  I’m just kind of amused and judgmental.

9.  I still haven’t gotten tired of reading and re-reading the Harry Potter books. Every time I re-read a beloved book, I discover something new.  I know most of them by heart now.  I usually try to memorize literature I love; then I’m never without it.  If you are a teacher who doesn’t believe in memorizing, there’s nothing much you could have to say that would make any impression on me because you’re a lazy idiot please go sit somewhere else because you smell really, really bad.

10. I’ve never had a root canal, and I hope I haven’t cursed myself by putting that in writing.

There are, of course Twelve Actual Rules of Christmas, according to the law, and in case you don’t know what they are and have intentions of storming the school or business that’s maliciously ignoring your rights as a Christian/Jew/Catholic/Protestant/Wiccan/Pagan/Atheist/Order of Elfland/Kisser of Mother Earth’s Backside, etc, perhaps y’all should take a glance at the law concerning such matters.

. . . interrupting my Christmas Eve blues (it’s almost here, which means it’s almost over!), my wallowing in Love Actually, my longing for visits from family, my worry about family members who are ill, my total digging (hippie language) of the White Christmas Blizzard happening outside as I type, and my dread of taking down all my holiday decorations in a week or so, with another version of the  Twelve Rules of Christmas, just for you:

1.  Christmas is always better than you thought it would be, even if it’s not.

2.  Christmas brings people together, even if it’s by contrast and not comparison.

3.  Christmas gifts made by childish hands are the best.  Christmas gifts FOR a child are even better.

4.  Christmas dinner is always great, even if it’s frozen pizza.  Because it’s Christmas.

5.  No one is alone on Christmas unless he/she chooses to be alone.  There are just too many places to go or to volunteer, to stay at home or in one’s room and whine.  Feeling left out?  Put on your coat and drive to the soup kitchen/homeless shelter, etc.  If being needed and appreciated is what you’re after – and who isn’t? – head for places where you’re definitely needed and genuinely appreciated.  It’s your own fault if you’re alone and sad at Christmas, or any other time, actually.

6.  Every Christmas tree is beautiful.

7.  Every wrapped package under the tree is beautiful, especially the ones wrapped by inept fingers.

8.  Christmas M&M’s taste better than ordinary M&M’s.  Ditto Christmas Snickers and Christmas Reese’s Trees.

9.  Christmas fruitcakes make great footballs, doorstops, and stories for next year, unless you actually like to eat fruitcake, in which case, bon appetit.  Watch your teeth.  And what exactly are those green slimy things?

10.  Christmas trees often bring the outdoors inside for our pets, ifyouknowwhatImean.

11.  Christmas season begins too soon and ends too quickly.

12.  The proper and polite response to “Merry Christmas” is “Thank you,” even if you do not believe in it.  Rudeness is always a choice, and it’s never appropriate to throw someone’s well-wishes back into his/her face.  If you’re insulted by someone’s wishing you well, keep it to yourself.  Charming Fairylit Woodland Seasonal Solstice Nothingness Greetings to you, too.  (Thank you.)

I’ve watched Love Actually three times this Christmas week, and I might have to give it another couple of viewings to get the sentiment and emotion out of my system.  Otherwise, I might be like Rebecca Randall’s Aunt Jane, so soft and sentimental it’s a wonder I don’t leak out the doorsill.*  It’s been suggested before.

Just to hear the music. . . . That soundtrack – it’s blazingly fantastic.  Fantastic, and, well, lovely.  Just lovely.

Excuse me.  I have to go mop myself up off the floor before all of me oozes under the door and out onto the yard.

If you haven’t ever seen Love Actually, what the bloody hell is WRONG with you!!! oh dear Lord, watch it now.  Be aware, however, that it’s not exactly family friendly in a few scenes.  Watch it late at night, with someone you love.  Or all by yourself in your kitchen whilst making homemade bread and fudge and trying not to weep copious tears into the dough.

P.S.  #13.  Christmas is a time for family and friends, and it’s so magically wondrous when they come to visit!  I can believe in God when I’m with family.  Without them, it can be difficult.

*Bonus points if you understand the reference.

Halloween has been and gone but it’s still THAT SEASON, which means many things, one of which is that I have a giant bowl half-filled with Tootsie Roll Pops and Hershey bars on my coffee table, and another of which is that I am once again compelled to obsess over my favorite cult film, “The Rocky Horror Picture Show.”

“I would like, if I may, to take you on a strange journey.”

Please remember that I am a sedate and typical possibly not-as-young-as-you-are woman, and the following information may or may not be true. Probably it’s not, because sedate and typical women, particularly mothers of innocent children, never do such things, and are in fact appalled at the very notion.

“Hot patootie, bless my soul! I really love that rock n’ roll!”

It may come as a bit of a surprise to some of you, or maybe not, that when I was a lot younger, My boyfriend and I might have gone to the midnight showing of this film at least once a month, and that rumor has it that he went as Riff Raff and I went as Magenta, the Domestic. It’s possible that I went with a deck of cards, a newspaper, a water gun, a baggie of rice, a party hat, a garter, and a noisemaker. Perhaps I even owned fishnet stockings. I still know every song by heart. I used to do the Time Warp. Maybe. In another time, and another space. Not to mention in a smaller body.

I may have used the decks of cards as frisbees; I really can’t remember that far back.

It might also be true that, long ago, I used to teach my study hall students to do the Time Warp, but then again, unless you were there, you’ll never know.

“Don’t dream it; be it.”

Speaking of sexy men (Oh, were we? Well, we are now.) I have this to say: Tim Curry. Then and now, but especially then. I know you all want desperately to see a picture of Tim Curry in drag. Well, I do, anyway. Like many of us, he used to be really hot. (Don’t look if you’re all prudey and pruney; fair warning.) (Oh, for heaven’s sake, you’ve already seen it on the movie poster!)

It’s a dreadful movie, really. Silly, soft-pornish, ridiculous, terrible acting, stilted dancing, camp at its best worst. . . . And yet, for some reason, it’s endeared itself to many people in spite of it all. I still love it.

“It’s not easy having a good time! Even smiling makes my face ache!”

These days, what I remember most is that my outfit was a size 5. In short, the domestic’s costume no longer fits, in more ways than one.

Memorize the entire movie? My goodness, that would be ridiculous for a woman my age! Why, I’m almost hyperventilating at the very thought!

“Your new playmate is loose and somewhere in the castle grounds.”

Rumors that I have a membership card in my wallet may or may not be true. I’m officially grown up now; why would I do that, now really? And why would I own one of the few copies of the soundtrack from the sequel? Shock Treatment? Or a Richard O’Brien cd?

And for you Star Trek fans out there, I’ve included a second video, proving that you can’t escape from the Time Warp, even in outer space. I might add, one would probably be even more apt to encounter a time warp in outer space. Well, it seems logical to me.
Enjoy.

“They” say that Peter Hinwood, who played Rocky, is so mortified by his participation in this movie that he can’t even talk about it.

I hope everybody noticed Barry Bostwick’s appearance in the Rocky Horror Glee episode. . . .You won’t see him in the Glee video, but believe me, he was there.

I’m a big Bostwick fan. I even remember that he was the original Danny in Grease.

“If only we were amongst friends… or sane persons!”

In context, the whole Rocky Horror thing is so absurd it’s, well, absurd. Taken out of context, some of the music is really good. This song, most of which was deleted from both the American and the British versions of the film, still has the power to make me pensive.

I’ve done a lot, God knows I’ve tried
To find the truth, I’ve even lied
But all I know is down inside
I’m bleeding.
And Super Heroes come to feast
To taste the flesh not yet deceased
And all I know is still the beast
is feeding.
And crawling on the planet’s face
Some insects called the human race
Lost in time, and lost in space
And meaning.

And, I’m really glad that whoever-was-responsible-for-such-things finally wised up and put “Superheroes” back in the movie. I love that song. I couldn’t find the actual video of it, but this is singing by the cast, even if it’s not the movie itself.

This is not a movie for children; perish the thought. But it’s a fun romp for adults. Learn to participate; it’s fun. Don’t forget the party hats.

Of course, if you don’t have time to watch an entire movie, you can always check out the bunnies.

It looks like you.

And why should you be interested?

Because it could have been you. Maybe it was you.

Women remove their bras for many reasons. You know them, so I won’t list them. But I will add this one: so we can check for lumps.

I would, of course, be participating in the Army of Women’s “Blog For Your Breasts” project in any case, since I am a human being, a woman, and an owner of breasts, but I have a particular interest in this project because I love my sister and I loved my mother-in-law.

Several years ago, my sister discovered a lump. She immediately contacted her doctor, who saw her right away, but even so, by the time her doctor saw the lump, it had grown bigger. He put her in the hospital, and the lump, along with pretty much everything touching or near the lump, was removed.

My sister underwent chemo. Our mother drove a hundred miles every few days to take her. My sister has very few memories of those trips; chemo takes it out of you in more ways than one. Her hair fell out, and even though she works for a big insurance company, that company refused to pay for a wig so she could continue to work. She finally did get one, however, and knowing my sister, I’m betting the company finally agreed to foot the bill. Harsh as the chemo was, it did the trick, and my sister has been cancer-free for several years now. She makes jokes about being lop-sided, but with the exception of her chest, everything about her, physically and mentally, including her hair, which grew back super-curly, is intact, for which all who love her, and that definitely includes me, are grateful. Every time I see her, I think about that time, those weeks in which we weren’t sure we were going to be allowed to keep her around, and I am so grateful she beat the odds that tried so hard to beat her down.

To be truthful, when it comes to this sister and any kind of odds, I’d bet on my sister every time. She’s tough and she’s good and she’s ALIVE. Love you, Teresa. Always have; always will.

My mother-in-law discovered her lump many years ago, but she didn’t tell anybody. By the time she showed it to her sister, it was huge. By the time she showed it to me, it was even huge-er – and black.

We had to bully her into going to the doctor; she was convinced that if she continue to ignore it and pray, it would go away without any effort on her part. I guess she forgot that God helps those who help themselves, because she put all the onus on God and flatly refused to do any of the work herself for years. Meanwhile, the lump put out roots and waxed strong.

Finally, she let us take her to the doctor, who, naturally, was horrified, both at the state of the lump AND at the state of her stubbornness. She underwent surgery; the lump was removed, as were as many of its clinging roots as possible. However, those of us who garden know what roots can do; they can live for a long time when the bulk of the growth is long gone; those roots can fester, evolve, and grow. Those roots can put out rootlets far from the original root. Think “strawberries.”

It was only when someone at work knocked her down and broke her hip that we discovered the extent of the malignant spread. The growth had grown, and poured itself forth throughout her entire body. Still, she upheld her claim that she would be healed without any help from humanity. I admired her faith, but I can’t admire her refusal to work along with her faith. (I believe that attitudes like this often dissuade others from “believing,” in fact. Sigh.)

Again, we bullied her into undergoing radiation treatments. From the very start, she was convinced that these treatments would not help her; I wonder still if that attitude was a self-fulfilling prophecy.

In the fall of 2008, she was still getting around, driving, eating, and working three days a week as a newspaper reporter. She retired in December of 2008. In February of 2009, she was gone.

Many people, including me, firmly believe that if she’d had that lump taken care of back in the mid-nineties when she first found it, she’d still be alive today. I suppose part of it was a generational and upbringing thing; she didn’t want to expose her breasts to a male doctor, and breasts are a private part that aren’t supposed to be exposed at all. She was brought up VERY strictly, with many rules and regulations that were ridiculous. It’s a bloody wonder she was able to rise above many of them at all. Sigh. She was much loved, and will always be missed. She was a wonderful mother-in-law, and was always very good to me.

Both of these women were brave, courageous, and bold, just like Hugh O’Brien’s Wyatt Earp: “Long live (their) fame, and long live (their) glory, and long may (their) story be told.”

However, if “it” should happen to you, please follow my sister’s example, not my mother-in-law’s.

Want to know more about the Army of Women? Click here.

Want to get involved? Click here.

Anyone who disagrees with Val in this typically awesome Stone Soup cartoon is welcome to defend his/her really poor manners right here. Go on, explain to us why your loud, crackling packages of chips that you open AFTER the movie starts are justifiable.  Enlighten us about your desperate need to slurp down a four-course meal in a movie theater.  Tell us why you have a right to crunch that ice.  Be sure to arrive late so you have to sit in the middle, and then disturb everyone every fifteen minutes because you have to go to the bathroom.  Wear your biggest hat and don’t remove it.  Keep that iPod plugged into your ear and be sure the volume is up so high the people near you can’t tell the difference between it and the movie soundtrack.  Oh, and by all means keep your cell phone on; you might get an important call which you will no doubt answer with “Oh, nothing; what are YOU doing?”  Come on, try it. Tell us why you are entitled to behave in any way you choose in a public theater. We’re waiting.

If theaters brought back those uniformed ushers who threw out everybody who so much as wiggled too much during the movie, I’d pay extra to go to that theater.

So now, tell me why you think you have a right to talk, move around, eat like a slopping hog, check your email, block people’s view of the screen with your way cool chapeau, crunch your ice until people think they’re trapped in a cave during an avalanche, prop your feet on the back of the seat in front of you, and holler at the actors.  Come one, explain yourself.  If you’ve got something other than “Because I am a hog,” I want to hear it.

I didn’t think you could.

Everyone who agrees say ‘aye!’

The theater is not your living room.  When you enter the theater and the lights go out, your mouth should zip itself shut and not open again until the lights come back up.  You may leave room to insert a straw but the second you slurp, you lose that privilege, too.

The general public has no right to dictate your loud, slaphappy, wiggily, pizza-inhaling ways in your home, but the theater is not your home.  It’s a public place, and in a public place, nice people behave themselves.

Period.

What’s that?  You paid for your ticket?  Guess what; so did the rest of us.  Shut up and behave yourself.

Theaters, for the love of all that is holy, raise the ticket price a buck and hire ushers.  The meaner the better.  You might lost a few customers, but believe me, none of the rest of us will miss that kind, and if you guarantee that those people won’t be there, the rest of us will come back, again and again.  And we won’t leave the disgraceful horrendous mess all over the floor and seats that those people leave, either.  Think of the savings there.

Not to mention the positive word-of-mouth marketing that no amount of money could buy.

Please?

P.S.  If your bladder is small, get there in time to find a seat on the aisle.  The universe thanks you.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

I hate it when the grass gets high.  I feel as if I’m drowning.  There are places in the low parts of the lawn that are mashed down sideways flat, where the ponds and creeks have overflowed.  We usually see a big snapper or two in weather like this, but so far even the animals have had sense enough not to try to come out in the rain.  Even the deer are huddling under the trees.

1. A crown is merely a hat that lets the rain in. — Frederick The Great

2. A poet is someone who stands outside in the rain hoping to be struck by lightning. — James Dickey

3. I do pity unlearned people on a rainy day. — Lucius C. Falkland

4. I love to walk in the rain, because nobody can see my tears. –Charlie Chaplin

5. It always rains on tents. Rainstorms will travel thousands of miles, against prevailing winds for the opportunity to rain on a tent. — Dave Barry

6. We will never be an advanced civilization as long as rain showers can delay the launching of a space rocket. — George Carlin

7. Criticism, like rain, should be gentle enough to nourish a man’s growth without destroying his roots. — Frank A Clark

8. There’s always a period of curious fear between the first sweet-smelling breeze and the time when the rain comes cracking down. — Don Delillo

9. Do not, on a rainy day, ask your child what he feels like doing, because I assure you that what he feels like doing, you won’t feel like watching. — Fran Lebowitz

10. Don’t pray when it rains if you don’t pray when the sun shines.– Satchel Paige

11. Some people walk in the rain; others just get wet. — Roger Miller

12. Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather. — John Ruskin

13. The drop of rain maketh a hole in the stone, not by violence, but by oft falling. — Hugh Latimer

14. The best thing one can do when it’s raining is to let it rain. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

15. I’m singing in the rain
Just singing in the rain
What a glorious feelin’
I’m happy again
I’m laughing at clouds
So dark up above
The sun’s in my heart
And I’m ready for love
Let the stormy clouds chase
Everyone from the place
Come on with the rain
I’ve a smile on my face
I walk down the lane
With a happy refrain
Just singin’,
Singin’ in the rain

“>One of the best movies of all time.

Euphemisms and PC are a kind of censorship, and censorship is the action of a weak, fearful,  and ignorant mind.  Smart people understand that many words have more than one meaning.  Weak and ignorant people can’t, and, unfortunately, weak and ignorant people seem to be in charge of the universe.

Understanding the concept of “context” is of vital importance, and “context” is something many people do not understand in the least.  Weak and ignorant people believe that each word has one meaning, by golly.

I use this example with my students; in fact, I’ve been using it as my AIM lifestream all week.

How important is context?  Well, it’s one thing for Bill to do the dishes, and quite another thing for Bill to do the upstairs maid.

Same word; different context.

Weak and ignorant people changed the last page of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol.  Scrooge had no further intercourse with the spirits was changed to Scrooge did not ever meet any more spirits.

Bah, humbug.

Snow White doesn’t live in the woods with seven dwarves any more.  It’s politically incorrect.  Now, when the men are mentioned at all, they are referred to as little men. Well, pardon me, but a story about a young woman who lives deep in the woods with seven little men strikes me as a merry piece of porn, not a fairy tale.

We can’t call them fairy tales any more, either.  Again, politically incorrect.  Yeah, whatever.  Weak and ignorant people make me tired.

Oh, and there are no asses at the manger with Our Lord.  Now, only the ox and lamb may keep time.  And don’t even get me started on the idiot who changed don we now our gay apparel to don we now our best apparel.

Honestly, people’s brains are shrinking so fast, some people have nothing but a raisin in their skulls.

Even Anne Frank.  ANNE FRANK.  There’s a big brouhaha about The Definitive Edition of The Diary of a Young Girl, and the book has been removed from the shelves.  ONE PARENT complained, and now nobody’s kids can read this book.  Disgraceful.  Listen, bitch concerned mommy, you have a perfect right to forbid your own children from reading any book, but your right to do that ends on your own doorstep. Keep your fear, ignorance, and faulty belief/value system away from everybody else’s children.

Why are people so afraid of controversy?  People should be welcoming questions, not forbidding them.  I sincerely believe that a belief/value system that can’t stand up under a few honest questions, or even a few baiting questions, is NOT a viable value/belief system.  If yours doesn’t like questions, I have a question for you:  Why on earth would you continue to cling to it?  A belief/value system that can’t cope with questions or deal happily with doubt and controversy is a faulty, lousy, ignorant belief/value system.  Please, let’s all strive NOT to associate ourselves with such a system.

Sadly, many people wear their association with these kinds of systems like a crown or badge.  Sigh.

I was a participant in a Twitter War tonight about censorship.  I was agin it.  Yes, I lowered myself to participate in an internet war.  I’m so embarrassed.  I was already pensive and feeling a bit off, and the combination has made me actually surly now.  If I were the 8th dwarf little man, I would probably be Surly. Sleepy, Sneezy, Dopey, Grumpy, Happy, Bashful, Doc, and Surly.

But I won’t think about that today.  I’ll think about it tomorrow.  After all, tomorrow is another day!

Frankly, Scarlett, I don’t give a darn.

Ah, euphemisms and most PC.  Sprinkling glitter on a shit-pile and thinking that people won’t notice that it still stinks.

(Part of this post was first posted on Nov. 12, 2008, but it’s been updated and it cleaned up right nice.)

P.S.  The Diary of Anne Frank is a play, not the diary.  The diary is titled Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl. And, totally unlike young girls of today, she often argued with her mother, had crushes on boys, worried about the future, wondered about her state of mind, and was curious about her body.  Just imagine.  Dear me, how abnormal of her.

Those weekly shows hosted by Ed Sullivan, Andy Williams, The Smothers Brothers, Sonny and Cher, Glen Campbell, Dean Martin, Carol Burnett, Perry Como, Flip Wilson. . . Laugh-In. . . The Muppet Show. . . . John Gary. . .  those Bing Crosby Christmas specials. . . Bob Hope’s USO shows. . . Those were places for real talent, not just celebrity-of-the-week.

SNL is probably the closest thing we have to a variety show, now, although it’s not nearly, NEARLY, as cool as it used to be. But those old variety shows. . . . Sigh.

We could tune in weekly and count on seeing well-written sketches, all kinds of singing and dancing, and appearances by well-known and not-so-well-known celebrities and budding celebrities, REAL celebrities – the kind with talent.  Singers and bands, comedians. . . you name it, it was on the variety shows.

I am not talking about talk shows, where somebody whose fifteen minutes is still running comes on and plugs his/her new movie/book/tv show, etc – those are a dime a dozen now, although it used to be different. I’m talking about variety shows: genuinely talented people from Broadway or movies that didn’t include Carrot Top or anybody whose last name has become a blend of someone else’s with whom they are currently having tempestuous public monkey sex, or tv shows that had lasted long enough to become properly popular. People who really had talent, not just a sweet/fast-talking agent. People who SANG their songs, not people who lip-synched them.

Lip-synchers. Bah.

Ed Sullivan took a chance every week with complete unknowns, some of whom remain unknown to this very day. He also introduced the Beatles to America; I remember that night very well. My parents scoffed at this new concept in entertainment, but even though I was just a little kid, I remember the distinct feeling that something inside of me had changed after watching the Beatles. When the camera turned on John Lennon, the words “Sorry, girls, he’s married” flashed across the screen, and for the first time in my life I knew what “jealousy” really was.

Ultimately, though, it was George who was my favorite.

Dean Martin’s show was ad-libbed almost all the way through. It was fantastic. Dean and his guests were show-biz-savvy, and they had TALENT. They didn’t need writers to tell them what to say. They knew what to say because they were real troupers and could do it themselves.

Carol Burnett, Harvey Korman, and Tim Conway laughed their way through some of the best-written sketches of all time. Sonny & Cher (who woulda thought it!) had a great show, too. I remember Elton John, back in his Mad Hatter period, wearing his trademark giant glasses and pounding the daylights out of the piano, on their show.

I also remember the Smothers Brothers’ show, the night of the musician’s strike. It was business as usual, and all the instrumental backgrounds were provided by their vocal chorus.

Back in the days of the variety shows, we could see all kinds of celebrities, not just Britney and Lindsey and Brennifer and Brangelina and some guy with a new fall tv show. Guests were required to perform, and PROVE their celebrity worth, not just giggle and smirk and hawk stuff.

Television seems to go in circles and trends: one season, it’s doctor shows; another season, it’s westerns; later, it’s crime scene shows, etc.

I haven’t watched tv since MASH went off the air, but if somebody ever has the balls to bring back the variety shows, REAL ones, with Broadway stars and comedians who know how to be genuinely funny without using four-letter words and assuming everybody approves of pre-marital sex for sophomores, and fully-clothed dancers who can really dance, not just strut their stuff, and bands who sing live, and scenes from New York plays, and dramatic recitations, and parodies. . . not just ONE THING, but many different examples of many different talents, lasting a full hour. . . I’d probably buy whatever their advertisers advertised.  Are you listening, business world?

Maybe the general population’s tastes have changed to the point where such shows are no longer what they want, or maybe they just haven’t ever SEEN them, real ones, since TV is so dominated by the same old thing season after season, stressing celebrity rather than talent, and shock value, gore, and snark rather than actual good writing, with only a few exceptions. Today’s celebrities seem to be in the news more for their off-screen antics – usually nasty and disgusting – than for having any actual talent.

I’m no prude, not by a long shot, but it would be nice to have something – dare I mention the now-humorous word “wholesome. . . .”? – that I could watch that would make me say things like, “He’s such a beautiful singer!” and “She’s so funny; call Mom and tell her to turn on her tv.” and “That’s the funniest sketch I’ve ever seen!” and “We’ve got to get tickets to this Broadway show!” and never once hear an F or a Big D or a GD, watch some hormonal idiot reap the consequences of his/her own actions, or be expected to applaud when someone hires someone else to kill someone. I want to see awe-inspiring talent, not some dippy moron whose grammar and private life public life make me want to scream and yell and throw things at the screen.

I hear and see enough of those in my real life. When I watch something, be it tv or movie, I want to be entertained and thrilled and enchanted and blown away by the sheer brilliance of somebody’s blazingly individual talent, being performed live, warts and all. Perhaps I AM an exception, but I am just not interested in the antics of hormonal attention-seekers. I will, however, spend my money on products and businesses that sponsor quality.

Remember when the Hallmark Hall of Fame presentations were commercial-free? That’s the era I want back. I would seriously patronize a company that sponsored a commercial-free program.

Man, I’m old. But some things really were better back in the day.

Is anybody out there listening? Do we even HAVE enough genuinely talented celebrities to put together a variety show these days? I bet we do.

Item: I want to watch them perform. I do NOT want to listen to them promote, whine, and talk about their latest movie.

P.S.  Do you know who’s in the picture?  Talk about an unlikely pairing!  And it worked like a dream.  I have their duet on my hard drive.  It’s bloody awesome.

Mamacita says:

My all-time favorite Christmas movie is still Love Actually.  That doesn’t mean, however, that I don’t like any other Christmas movies.

There’s nothing like a zany Christmas movie like “Mixed Nuts” to really get me in the holiday mood. It’s Steve Martin back when he was cute and funny and cool, like WAYYYY before he started making stupid movies and disgracefully bad remakes of genuinely great films. Actually, Steve’s been in too many bad remakes to count.

I still like him, though. If you see Steve, tell him so he won’t feel bad when he reads my blog.

#25 is my favorite.  I think of it regularly.  It reminds me of my father, before the diabetes made him. . . different.

1. There’s nothing sadder in this world than to awake Christmas morning and not be a child. — Erma Bombeck

2. This is the message of Christmas: We are never alone. — Taylor Caldwell

3. Remember, if Christmas isn’t found in your heart, you won’t find it under a tree. — Charlotte Carpenter.

4. Unless we make Christmas an occasion to share our blessings, all the snow in Alaska won’t make it ‘white’. — Bing Crosby

5. Christmas, my child, is love in action. — Dale Evans

6. My first copies of Treasure Island and Huckleberry Finn still have some blue-spruce needles scattered in the pages. They smell of Christmas still. — Charlton Heston

7. My idea of Christmas, whether old-fashioned or modern, is very simple: loving others. Come to think of it, why do we have to wait for Christmas to do that? — Bob Hope

8. The joy of brightening other lives, bearing each others’ burdens, easing other’s loads and supplanting empty hearts and lives with generous gifts becomes for us the magic of Christmas.
– W. C. Jones

9. Christmas gift suggestions: To your enemy, forgiveness. To an opponent, tolerance. To a friend, your heart. To a customer, service. To all, charity. To every child, a good example. To yourself, respect. — Oren Arnold

10. The perfect Christmas tree? All Christmas trees are perfect! — Charles N. Barnard

11. Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love. — Hamilton Wright Mabie

12. Christmas is a necessity. There has to be at least one day of the year to remind us that we’re here for something else besides ourselves. — Eric Sevareid

13. Christmas, children, is not a date. It is a state of mind. — Mary Ellen Chase

14. There has been only one Christmas – the rest are anniversaries. — W.J. Cameron

15. Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time. — Laura Ingalls Wilder

16. Instead of being a time of unusual behavior, Christmas is perhaps the only time in the year when people can obey their natural impulses and express their true sentiments without feeling self-conscious and, perhaps, foolish. Christmas, in short, is about the only chance a man has to be himself. — Francis C. Farley

17. Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen. — Author unknown, attributed to a 7-year-old named Bobby

18. In the old days, it was not called the Holiday Season; the Christians called it ‘Christmas’ and went to church; the Jews called it ‘Hanukkah’ and went to synagogue; the atheists went to parties and drank. People passing each other on the street would say ‘Merry Christmas!’ or ‘Happy Hanukkah!’ or (to the atheists) ‘Look out for the wall!’ — Dave Barry

19. When we were children we were grateful to those who filled our stockings at Christmas time. Why are we not grateful to God for filling our stockings with legs? — G.K. Chesterton

20. The message of Christmas is that the visible material world is bound to the invisible spiritual world. — Author Unknown

21. The Supreme Court has ruled that they cannot have a nativity scene in Washington, D.C. This wasn’t for any religious reasons. They couldn’t find three wise men and a virgin. — Jay Leno

22. The earth has grown old with its burden of care, but at Christmas it always is young. — Phillips Brooks

23. Nothing’s as mean as giving a little child something useful for Christmas. — Kin Hubbard

24. Christmas – that magic blanket that wraps itself about us, that something so intangible that it is like a fragrance. It may weave a spell of nostalgia. Christmas may be a day of feasting, or of prayer, but always it will be a day of remembrance – a day in which we think of everything we have ever loved. — Augusta E. Rundel

25. There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say, Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round — apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that — as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it! — Charles Dickens