Thursday, December 29, 2016

"Good Morning" ~ Singin' in the Rain (1952)

With thanks to Debbie Reynolds: 1932 to 2016.

Mother/Daughter Exits

[Pictured: April 1954. Joan Crawford at a premiere with Debbie Reynolds.]

I personally am more schlubby like Carrie Fisher (though much less drug-addled), who died on December 27, but I more admire Debbie Reynolds, who died the day after. Reynolds had actual talent and pizzazz.

Fisher, although she had immediate success in a lucky "Star Wars" gig (couldn't a hundred other starlets have been placed into that role?), went on to basically make a career (aside from marrying Paul Simon and appearing in "When Harry Met Sally") only of writing about her Hollywood life, received as daughter of Debbie Reynolds, usually told in relation to Debbie Reynolds.

Reynolds, on the other hand... The last of the truly talented Hollywood stars. Singer/dancer/actress. Entity/"force" unto herself.

Fisher often joked about her mother upstaging her. This is, perhaps, the ultimate "upstaging." Now I hear talk about a dual funeral!


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Sunday, December 25, 2016

Never understood the Christmas complaints...

...until NOW!

I've always liked Christmas! ALWAYS! I'm 51! I have problems with my family, but I've always liked CHRISTMAS itself --- always bought gifts for mom/bro/sis-in-law/nephews, always gone over to whoever's house for the celebration. Never had any complaint whatsoever about the festivities, because I like the festivities and the color and the food and the gifts!

Last night, though, it all went bad very quickly.

Let me just say that I walked in my mother's door, heard a few words from her, dropped my gifts off in a chair, and then walked on out. Sad.

I think my mother and I are at cross purposes in our individual development. She, at 75, might be at the point where she feels that she can be the bitchy self that she's been throughout her adult life, multiplied because she's "old." I, on the other hand, at 51, am not in the mood to take the bullshit any more.

I write this at 9:45 in the morning, Central time, Christmas day. I've never in my life gone into Christmas after being up since midnight drinking, until now. I've always "respected The Day." Today, though: "The Day" is ridiculous. I'll drunkenly collapse on my bed around 11am Christmas day and then sleep 'til the evening, having seen no one. Not proud of that. But, nonetheless, proud of having avoided bullshit.

The key, of course, is to have your own person to be with, your own family. I don't have that. There's no Christmas or New Year's Resolution for that. What I do know now is: I don't have to put up with the current situation. I'm strong enough to say "fuck it," although that gives me no great pleasure.

This is the first Christmas that I've ever not looked forward to waking up to/on. Ever. In all the years that I can remember. What a shitty 76-degree Christmas.

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

I get knocked down, but I get up again...

"Pissing the night away..."
Hadn't thought of this 1998 song in years... Heard it today on an Austin radio station...  Goosebumps...rolled-down window so everyone could hear as I cruised back from my Taco Bell lunch... YES!

Donald Trump Victory Celebration Montage | We Are The Champions

I still can't get over it! 2017 is going to be GOOD! A repulsion of everything I'd hated so when living in San Francisco in 1994-95. After living briefly with that shit, I was momentarily comforted by my return to Texas. Only to discover that the irrational PC-shit had subsequently crept across the country... Thank you, Donald Trump, for at least attempting to put an end to the bullshit.


Friday, December 16, 2016

Donald Trump Makes Hillary Clinton Supporters Cry: Suck It!

Late December, and you still haven't gotten over it? Truly --- SUCK IT, Snowflakes. You didn't, for instance, see ME whining in 2000 (I thought Bush was an idiot). Or in 2008 (I thought Obama was completely unqualified). Why all the drama now?

First Lady Michelle Obama on husband's legacy of hope

Wow. Michelle Obama: "Now we're feelin' what not having hope feels like." I must protest: The last 8 years have been nothing but hopelessness --- for ME, at least. Prior to 2008, I had my pick of jobs. Post 2008 and until very recently, I've had to scrounge for work.

Stat-wise, prior to 2008, there were fewer people on welfare, more people in the job market. The ignorant Michelle Obama, her ignorant husband, and the ignorant Hillary Clinton (still making paid appearances to bemoan her loss) all need to shut up and go away. Their false PC definition of "Hope" failed years ago. Barack Obama was as incompetent as George W. Bush. To the Dustbin of History with both of them and their surrogates.

Wednesday, December 14, 2016

Annual Company Lunch 2016

Last year, I avoided the multiple annual company lunches that were scheduled for various groups. The lunches weren't as easily avoided as I'd thought they'd be: After not showing up for the first one in 2015, the Chief Exec's secretary rescheduled me and rescheduled me, and I ridiculously had to keep dodging, 3 times in total. I simply did NOT want to go last year. Why? Because I'd heard there was a "going around the table telling what you were working on and suggesting changes" THING --- THING being "perform" rather than actually giving ideas because they were really wanted. School. Judged on sucking up. That type of thing.

This year, I couldn't NOT go, because I didn't go last year. For 2 or 3 days before today's lunch, I actually agonized and re-visited the Excel chart of what I'd worked on all year, trying to memorize my "lunch speech" re all of the projects I'd worked on, what I was in the process of doing right now... Stressful to me. Although I know I can, indeed, "present well" when forced to, I don't like to --- just on principle. To me, that I do my work well is all that should matter.

What ended up happening was: There wasn't some big "explain yourself" speech required around the lunch table. I had to say my name and what I did for the company. Fine.

An hour or so later, the boss asked for "ideas." By that point in the lunch, I felt comfortable enough to mention casually that it would be nice if a recent major book that I'd edited for the company be listed on Amazon (instead of merely being hyped at local book fairs). The fact that I spoke up about this minor idea directly to the boss was a breakthrough for me, personally:  A minor idea that wasn't shot down. Wow! (Childhood, childhood --- When I knew I was smart, but wasn't ever allowed to open my mouth at home without being scorned for anything that came out of my mouth. Ugh. I, at 51, still am outraged at my parents for how they constantly, gratuitously, sickly put me down.)

So... minor as it may be to others accustomed to feeling free to express themselves to "authority figures" --- I had never before felt free. And today I was allowed to say a minor opinion without sanction. Thanks, Workplace!

Is it possible that I can, indeed, relax a little and be myself in an "official" setting? I don't have to get tense and combative to protect myself and my "inner feelings"? Wow.

Monday, December 12, 2016

Peace Through Nixon

I have about 800 books around my apartment. Am usually not reading or re-reading them because...I'm so concerned about what's going on online! But... I used to really like to read. This past weekend I made an attempt to "get back to my roots." Starting with a trilogy of Nixon bios by Stephen Ambrose. I'm halfway through the first one.

The childhood story that I will always remember: My mother (not pro-Nixon) says that whenever I was little (around 3, in 1968) and Nixon would come on the television, I would always stop whatever I was doing and sit down and watch him. Later, in 1974, when he was forced to resign (and I had more free will at age 9), I wrote him a letter telling him how sorry I was for what had happened to him.

Another Nixon side-note: The only book I've ever shoplifted (from a Ridgmar Mall bookstore in Fort Worth when I was 16 in the early '80s) was a paperback of Nixon's "The Real War." WHY???

A too-much-information p.s.: I had really bad sex on the day that Nixon died --- April 22, 1994. I remember this exactly because the man I was seeing and I had usually had really good, friendly sex. But on this day, he and I had gone from work to a bar, where we watched Nixon death coverage on news stations while we drank. We then went back to my place, had sex-by-rote, me sullen afterwards, him puzzled by why I was acting so cold. To the point where he asked me, "Why are you acting like this?" I don't think "Nixon" would have been the appropriate answer!


Wednesday, December 07, 2016

(Just Like) Starting Over - John Lennon

Night of December 8, 1980: I was 15, went to bed listening to Side 1 of "Double Fantasy." My mother woke me up early before school the next day to tell me the news that Lennon had been shot. My first reaction: "Did Yoko do it?"

Thursday, December 01, 2016

President-Elect Donald Trump FULL Speech at Thank You Tour, Cincinnati


I LOVE Trump. In my lifetime of voting, I liked Gary Hart a lot in 1984, and Bill Clinton a lot in 1992. But I've never LOVED a candidate. This guy, in a hilariously overt way, EXACTLY nailed the intellectual causes of the malaise I'd been feeling.

My favorite meme from "The Dinner":

YOU IN DANGER, GIRL!


See this site for others: http://www.smosh.com/smosh-pit/memes/donald-trump-had-dinner-mitt-romney-and-twitter-turned-it-meme