Category Archives: commentary

This Post Does Not Bear Repeating

“Everybody talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.”

It’s one of my favorite quotes. You say it in a real airhead voice, as if you think you’re saying something profound when really if you had a thought in your head it would not be crowded.

I’ve written about this before. I don’t want to repeat myself, BUT…

Oh, there’s a good topic for Non Sequitur Thursday. Most of us repeat ourselves. They say some things bear repeating (that’s not one of them), but mostly people repeat things because they felt clever for having said them in the first place, or whatever it is still bothers them, or they can’t think of anything else to say.

Wow, I guess there’s a lot of reasons to repeat oneself. Try this: the next time you want to repeat yourself, instead say WHY you were about to repeat yourself. Then see if you repeat that.

I was about to tell a story about a friend repeating herself and me repeating myself in reply to her, and her calling me on repeating myself but not noticing her repeating herself. I’ve told that story roughly 5,687,211 times (I was going to say a bazillion but thought I’d change things up with an actual number).

I guess this is more stream of consciousness than non sequitur (that remark may be a repeat from last Thursday). Let’s let this train of thought jump the tracks (which were crossing the stream; I’m not mixing metaphors) and give a shout out to Ilion Little Theatre’s December production.

Rented Christmas opened last weekend and continues this weekend. It is a family musical about a guy who, you know, rents a Christmas. If you like cute kids with nice voices singing Christmas carols, this is a good show for you. It plays Friday and Saturday, December 28 and 29 at 7:30 p.m., and Sunday December 30 at 2 p.m. For more information, visit their website, http://www.ilionlittletheatre.org/ or their Facebook page.

Final Note: On reading this over before publishing, I realize I did not follow my own instructions and say WHY I was going to repeat myself. I’ll save it for the half-baked philosophy component on Lame Post Friday.

Have Yourself a Merry Post-Christmas Let Down

Look, bloggers get post-Christmas let downs, too. Today I can only offer a little more Christmas Carol commentary. I hope you find it amusing.

Regarding “Do You Hear What I Hear?”: If I would have been the little lamb, the second verse would have gone, “Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy, ‘Hey, the wind is talking to me.'” Then the third verse could have gone, “Said the shepherd boy to the Hollywood agent, ‘I have a talking sheep.'”

I realize neither of those lines is in the rhythm of the original tune, but you know how singers interpret things (I actually hate it when they do that, but hell, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em).

One other thing: What if I don’t WANT to have myself a Merry Little Christmas? What if I want to have myself a Merry Big Fat Christmas? What are you going to sing to me then?

I have no other silly observations to make, so I will finish by sharing a Christmas Carol memory.

One Christmas many years ago, my husband Steve and I as well as my sister Diane and her husband, Chris, were staying at my parents’ house. To complete the picture, I’ll just mention that at this point my parents’ house only boasted one bathroom.

Christmas morning I was up before anybody else and got into the shower. I thought since everybody was still asleep, I could get away with taking a long shower. I sang Christmas carols in the shower. In retrospect, I don’t know how I thought anybody could sleep through that, but I do love to sing Christmas carols. Indeed, other people were up when I emerged from the shower squeaky clean.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “If I had known you were awake, I would have taken a shorter shower.”

My sister Diane retorted, “You would have taken a shorter shower if you didn’t have to sing every verse!”

It’s still five days away, but my New Year’s Resolution is to have more Mohawk Valley adventures, so I don’t have to make such silly blog posts all the time. Hope your own post-Christmas let down is mild.

More Carol Commentary

Merry Christmas to all. I mean to make this a fast post so I can get back to my own celebrations. Anyways, who reads blogs on Christmas? I hope somebody.

I thought I would share a few more of my thoughts on Christmas carols.

“You better watch out/ You better not cry.” This always struck me as unreasonable. What if I was really sad? What if I hurt myself, you know, not from being bad?

Later in the same song: “He knows when you’re awake.” Leaving aside the stalker implications, why is insomnia considered misbehaving? Ever since I was a little girl I’ve had the problem of waking up in the middle of the night and not being able to get back to sleep. This, also, was not the result of misbehavior such as, for example, stealing my mother’s International Coffee (she freely shared it with me in later years).

I’m just saying (I love that expression).

A comment was made on my previous post on Carols: moviewriternyu brought up “Frosty the Snowman.” He wondered why this dying man only wanted to run and play with the kids and nobody called 911. I had never thought of that, but wished I had. What struck me, after reading his comment, was why was Frosty hanging out with all these kids with no other adults present? This, however, seemed rather unsavory, so I did not continue that line of thought.

One last thought: why do we all dream of a white Christmas when I have never ever in my life met anybody who liked to shovel snow? Oh, I know, snomobiles, skiing, etc. In fact, this morning when we were shoveling my parents’ driveway, a neighbor remarked that it was good exercise. So I guess that makes my last thought kind of lame. Too early in the week for that!

I guess the reason I brought up “White Christmas” is I wanted three carols mentioned. Three is kind of an important number in many contexts. That is some half-baked philosophy that I will pursue at another time. In the meantime, although it’s been said many times, many ways (most recently at the top of this post), Merry Christmas to you.

NOTE: Go to http://moviewriternyu.wordpress.com/2012/12/20/the-bloody-cool-carolers-vampires-snowmen-bring-christmas-joy-to-maine-homes/ for another post on Christmas Carols.

Can’t Give You Anthing But Lame

What a dithery week I’m having.

I had meant to continue my Christmas Carol Commentary today. I even had a couple of paragraphs written. I thought, “Don’t do Lame Post Friday right after Non Sequitur Thursday.” And here it is Friday and it seems I can’t be anything but lame.

I have said in the past that I don’t suffer so much from Writer’s Block as from Writer’s Blank. My head feels like a big, empty wasteland. Well, today I think it’s Block. My head feels like a concrete wall. Nothing is getting through.

Possible reason for this phenomenon:

I got some “likes” for my posts earlier this week, and at least one new follower. What if they read my next post and DON’T LIKE IT AS MUCH? What a disaster!

Oh, I know it’s not really a disaster and logically, nobody will like each post equally as well as all others. But I think many writers can identify with the fear that we will not be good enough. After all, better to be silent and let the world think you’re a fool than to write a blog post and remove all doubt.

Actually, I guess that ship sailed with the first post: everybody knows I am something of a fool. I might postulate that most writers are fools: we put our words out there and think somebody, somewhere might want to read them. And you know what, maybe we’re not such fools after all. I like to read what people write. I’m thinking you do too, because, you know, here you are.

One of the best excuses for a lame post is, at least it’s short. Happy Friday, everyone.

Christmas Carol Commentary

Today I attempt to follow my own advice from yesterday and skip the futzing. I have had no Mohawk Valley adventures since yesterday, so I will attempt some seasonal commentary.

The other day I posted a Facebook status that got some good attention. I share it again, with apologies to any readers who are also Facebook friends: So if I know Dasher and Dancer and all them, why would I NOT recall the most famous reindeer of all?

That has bothered me ever since it occurred to me. Now I’ve been looking for other examples of silly lyrics in Christmas songs.

One of my least favorite songs is “All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth” (although I love the cover of it by The Count of Sesame Street). “Been so long since I could say/ Sister Susie sitting on a thistle.” (Have I mentioned that before? Note to self: look at last December’s posts before I publish this.)

Has anybody ever in their life said that sentence at all, let alone felt sad that they hadn’t said it in a long time? Can I just say, if you have a sister of whatever name who is in the habit of sitting on thistles and that forms a large part of your conversation, with or without teeth, I would advise you to get out more (that’s not a run-on sentence).

(Note written later: I looked at my last December’s posts but did not read through them all. I think I’m good).

And another thing: why didn’t anybody offer to walk Grandma home? Or maybe go fetch her medication for her? Maybe they were all drinking too much eggnog, but that reminds me, should she have been mixing her medication with eggnog? A good question for Grandma’s pharmacist.

Oh, and before anyone gets snarky about it, obviously the eggnog was spiked, by implication if not by actual booze.

That’s all I’ve come up with so far. I intend to continue listening to Christmas music, however, so I will report further as developments warrant. Maybe on Lame Post Friday.

I Think I Like Cheesy Movies Better

When I saw Forbidden Planet listed on TCM, I got all excited.

“That’s a famous bad movie,” I told Steven. Turns out I was half right: it’s famous. I remembered that the movie was based on The Tempest by William Shakespeare (loosely, I believe) and that it is the movie that introduced Robbie the Robot.

I know Robbie the Robot from Lost in Space. I remember in one episode he played The Robotoid, who was apparently a better robot than The Robot, and The Robot got all jealous and sad. And I seem to remember Robbie being an evil robot as well, but that may have been the same episode. (Of course The Robot started out evil, but let’s not get all bogged down in Lost in Space reminisces.)

When Ben Mankiewicz gave his pre-movie commentary (which I love), he informed me that Forbidden Planet broke the mold of previous science fiction movies by having a budget and taking pains with the script, sets and acting. Who knew? Well, I’ve mentioned in the past it seems foolish to not watch a movie because I’m afraid it will be too good. I thought I’d give it a try.

I almost didn’t recognize Leslie Nielsen without his white hair and with his tongue not in his cheek. Ann Francis is the only girl both on the planet and in the movie, and Walter Pigeon plays her father. Those were the names I recognized in the cast.

I thought the plot of the movie was a little bit “Waaait a minute.” Leslie and ship have traveled two years through space to check on a group that set out to colonize some planet (I forget the name of the planet, and you know, nobody in the movie actually refers to it as “forbidden.” Just saying). Hello, 20 years? They didn’t let the Pilgrims go that long without checking on them, and proportionally travel and communications was a lot less sophisticated back then (I say “proportionally” because, you know, space vs oceans).

Then, after they find all is not well, although Walter Pigeon insists that it is, it’s going to take them like a month to cannibalize their ship to build a device to communicate with earth for further instructions. Excuse me, what? What were their original instructions and what did they expect to find? Didn’t they think they MIGHT need to call home? And how are they going to get back home once they’ve dismantled the ship to build this fancy telephone?

Perhaps I read too much into it. Or perhaps I was not paying enough attention, as you know is sometimes the case with me. I must observe, the movie got a little dull. It certainly moved slowly. The monster didn’t show up till like 45 minutes into it, and then it was just mysterious breathing. We don’t actually see the monster till much later and then we don’t exactly see it.

That, by the way, is my favorite special effect in the picture. The effects and the sets are pretty good for the time. A couple of the scenes look pretty definitely painted, but they’re lovely and nothing really looks fake.

The ending gets exciting. I don’t want to say a whole lot about how things develop and what happens, but it gets kind of heady and philosophical, while still remaining exciting. Not an easy trick to pull off.

On the whole, I would say Forbidden Planet is worth a watch if you’re interested in science fiction, movies and their history together. Next I’m going to read The Tempest, so I can do a compare/contrast on the plots. That might be good for another blog post.

Making Do with a Walk

Once again I did not go running this Saturday. I’ll have a big, exciting blog post when I start running again, so that is something to look forward to (for me, anyways). In the meantime, today I will write about a walk I took this morning with Tabby, my schnoodle (regular readers know I have a schnoodle named Tabby, but I thought I’d mention her for anybody just tuning in. Plus, I like using the word schnoodle).

Steven and I were up early this morning, because he had to work at 6:30. Well, at least I got to sleep in till four. I must be thankful for what I can get. I didn’t waste the wakefulness, either. I left the house when Steven did, all fired up to finish my Christmas shopping before the crowds arrived.

I didn’t do so good. What a time of year to be stricken with indecision! I’ve been saying that for the rest of the day. You see, I can’t even decide on something else to say.

All this is just background, of course. I was partially successful and wondered what else I could usefully get done before my eye doctor appointment at 10:45. Then I remembered I had yet to deposit a check into my mad money account at First Source Federal Credit Union in Herkimer (see, I get to plug a local business, too).

First I had to search frantically for a hat. What in the world did I do with my toque? And what happened to all the other knitted hats I used to have? This one looks dorky, that one looks dorky, oh, here’s a good one. Does anybody else have these problems? I got Tabby into her harness and we set out.

Still no snow in Herkimer, NY. Not even any rain, although yesterday my bunions definitely predicted precipitation. Well, sometimes my bunions are in advance of the event. Not even too cold, but I was glad I had found my hat.

Lots of Christmas decorations to look at. I saw several blow up Santas not deflated, as well as a couple sad looking ones. In the daylight, I especially like to see the large Christmas balls hanging from porches. I saw some swaying in the breeze, although I wasn’t bothered much by the wind. Perhaps it was the Ghost of Christmas Past or somebody (just a spooky thought to brighten my day).

Tabby was not best pleased with the directions I was walking in, but I convinced her to accompany me. She was happy enough once we got to the bank. She loves that bank. The teller gave her a treat, which I believe she was expecting.

After I had transacted my business, Tabby delayed our departure long enough to greet another patron. She jumped right up on him to be petted.

“Well, hello,” he said. “How are you? Nice to meet you!”

“She always knows nice people when she sees them,” I said. Actually, I think Tabby thinks everybody is nice and wants to pet her. Luckily, many people do.

We walked home by a different route so we could see more decorations. I envied all the hard plastic light up snowmen, in particular one who seemed to be giving me a knowing grin.

I’d like to share with you some of my Christmas shopping adventures, but it would be problematic. There would be a lot of “I got a … for …” because some people on my Christmas list read my blog. Sometimes even the place I shopped would be a giveaway. So for now, we’ll have to make do with a walk to the bank. Happy Saturday, everybody.

I Mean, It’s Like, You Know?

I was unable to write a blog post while at work today, because I was suffering from a screaming sinus headache.

Um, I did not actually scream. My place of employment is pretty loud at the best of times, so it is entirely possible that if I had screamed no one would have noticed. If they did notice, hearing protection is readily available. Good thing; my screams are piercing.

Where was I? Ah yes, nowhere. Partway through the day, in between waves of pain and wondering what in the world I was going to write about, I remembered: Non Sequitur Thursday. All I had to do was write a few random comments and done! On to the wine drinking portion of the evening!

I even thought of using “Non Sequitur Thursday” as the headline, but then I thought it would be a little too post-ironic. I mean, think about it: if you say you are about to say a non sequitur, then you say one, doesn’t that make it a sequitur? And is sequitur one of those lost positives you hear about (you know, like ept)?

I could actually make this Stream of Consciousness Thursday, by seguing into a whole blurb on lost positives (with a slight detour into how come my computer wants me to spell it “segueing” when the dictionary clearly prints “-uing”?). I really, really, want to say it: you know, how people can be inept, but you never hear about them being ept?

My computer, by the way, is also underlining ept, and all I can think of is the pregnancy test. Not something I need to think about at my age!

This is a singularly silly post, and I know I’ve had some silly ones. And I realized I was using “you know” entirely too much (I actually deleted a couple), so that gave me my headline. This was an expression I used to use quite a bit in my younger days. It was my statement on how people often talked without saying anything. A self portrait? You be the judge.

Musings on Magoo

I know I said yesterday that I would plan a better blog post for today, but nobody really got their hopes up, did they? I hope a Midweek Middle-aged Musing will suffice.

The other day Steven and I watched one of our all time favorite Christmas specials: Mr. Magoo’s Christmas Carol. Like many children in the ’60s (no, not in THEIR 60s, in the years following 1960. Sheesh!), it was our first introduction to the Charles Dickens classic.

The old Mr. Magoo cartoons have fallen into bad repute these days. Some people say they do not find it amusing to make fun of someone’s disability, in this case nearsightedness. This is, of course, a worthy sentiment. If I recall the original cartoons, the joke was that Mr. Magoo was completely oblivious to the fact that he could not see and to all the trouble it got him into. Everything always worked out for him in the end.

That doesn’t make it right to make fun of him, the argument continues. Perhaps not, but consider this: Many vision problems are easily correctable with a pair of glasses, and many people are too cheap, vain or stubborn to provide themselves with glasses. I think cheapness, vanity and stubbornness are OK to make fun of.

Ebenezer Scrooge falls into the cheap category.

“Could I need spectacles?” he asks himself. Then, realizing spectacles cost money: “Must be this gruel. Sour, sour!”

Later the Ghost of Christmas Present: “So you’re the man who’s too tight with a penny to buy himself a pair of spectacles!”

So you see.

If you don’t buy my rationalization, just remind yourself: Mr. Magoo’s Christmas Carol was made in 1962. We know better now. Use it as a teachable moment and enjoy the show. We did.

And don’t be too cheap to buy yourself a pair of glasses if you need them.

No Cheese for Christmas?

I do not have a cheesy horror movie to review this week and for that I blame Steven.

Saturday night we watched DVR’d episodes of Castle (to make space on the DVR for more horror movies). Sunday, Steven insisted we watch Christmas. Well, I have to let him get his way sometimes.

I would write about our Christmas movies, but I just don’t know if I can poke fun at them the same way I poke fun at a sleazy horror movie (I know, I usually describe them as “cheesy,” but for some reason, today the word “sleazy” came to mind. I’m sure that in many cases it is apt).

Where was I? I’m afraid in the midst of a Why I Can’t Write a Post Today post.

Wow, as soon as I wrote those words, I stopped writing.

That was as far as I wrote while at work today (on a break OF COURSE). To make an accurate account, there was a long pause between the last two sentences. I did not push it. Instead I flipped over a couple of pages in the notebook and wrote more on the novel I’m working on. So I’m not completely illiterate.

Perhaps a few sentences about Why I Don’t Want to Write About Christmas Movies is in order.

Almost every Christmas movie is somebody’s favorite or the center of a cherished memory. While this may also be true of, for example The Corpse Vanishes or The Screaming Skull, it is less likely, and it seems to me one is more apt to be forgiven in these cases. (Actually, I seem to remember sharing one of my cherished memories when I wrote about It: The Terror from Beyond Space. So you see.) Perhaps I am faint of heart, but I don’t want to be hated on at Christmas time.

I don’t rule out writing about our Christmas movies as we continue to view them, but I warn you: I will probably get a little fluffy and sentimental. What can I say? It’s December. To quote one of my favorite philosophical sayings, You’ll have that.