Hollywood great Steve McQueen would have been eighty today had he not died thirty years ago. Steve McQueen was a cool dude. And one that I feel a kin to because his nickname, like my son’s, was Mac, and he seemed to be able to kick anyone’s ass even though he stood at a mere 5”9’; sort of like my dad, who by the way would kill to be 5”9’. Also I am allergic to animals and find them kind of stinky so I’ve gotta love a man who was quoted as saying “When a horse learns to buy martinis, I’ll learn to like horses”. Amen, to that.
So today we celebrate the birthday of the King of Cool. A day he shares with some less cool celebrities. There is nothing worse than having your birthday soiled by sharing it with people who suck. Trust me, I know first hand. I wish someone cool like McQueen was born on my birthday. Instead I share it with Gypsy Rose Lee (the actual stripper, not Natalie Wood), Joe Pesci, and a real life suckafool who I won’t be so rude as to mention here. So Steve, in honor of your birthday, let’s take a moment to bust on the other losers who were born today so we can be sure you continue to reign supreme even from the afterlife.
Al Reynolds AND Star Jones – They share a birthday and the marriage didn’t last? How could that be? Oh, right, he’s gay and she’s a crazy person. Those kinds of relationships never work out.
Louie Anderson – I’m sorry, he just seems like a dick. He’s not funny and I get the feeling he’s mean in real life. Maybe, I’m wrong and he’s just swell and I’m the mean one but I usually have pretty good instincts on these kinds of things so let’s just call him an ass and move on.
Donna Pescow – She played the pathetic Annette who kept trying to get with John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever and then she played the title role in the 1979 sitcom Angie about a waitress who married millionaire Robert Hayes. She seems like a nice enough person but she’s no McQueen. She should have been born with other lesser knowns on the 23rd or the 25th.
Kelly LeBrock – Sure, her body was amazing but her face was weird and she was dumb enough to marry Steven Segal. Boo!
Lake Bell – Casting directors seem to think she’s sexy. I think she looks like a man.
Lara Flynn Boyle – I kind of love her because, like most of my family, she’s Irish and crazy, but she’s no McQueen. More like McQueen’s nutso cousin who shows up at family reunions with men like Jack Nicholson and David Spade. You know what? I do love her and I bet McQueen would have, too. Stay crazy, Flynn Boyle!
Lark Voorhies – Two words for you: Lisa Turtle. She almost deserves this day just for putting up with Screech all those years.
Matthew Peck – Never heard of him? Your loss. He’s my 4 year old’s little bud and he knows more about Bakugans than anyone on earth. McQueen would actually think this kid was cool and be honored to share a birthday with him. Have fun turning five, MP.
Megyn Price – She was on Grounded for Life with Donal Logue and now she’s on Rules of Engagement with David Spade and Seinfeld’s Putty. She always plays up her boobs. Bobby and I call her “Slutty Mom” because that’s how she’s usually typecast. She’s likable enough but a little too low rent to share a birthday with McQueen. Plus I hate people who don’t know how to spell their own names. It’s Megan or Meghan but not Megyn.
I’m sure there are others. There always are. The great ones never get to have their day all to themselves. And I guess who is great is relative. I mean, maybe some of you actually think Kelly LeBrock or Louie Anderson has given more to the world of entertainment than Steve McQueen did. I sort of want to punch you for thinking that, but to paraphrase the great Bobby Brown “it’s your perogative”. However, I am sure if you were stuck at the top of The Towering Inferno trying to decide whether or not to get on that outdoor glass elevator, you’d want Steve McQueen not Al Reynolds by your side. And that’s why anyone can call March 24th their birthday, but the day really belongs to only one man. Happy Birthday, Bullitt.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
It's great to be Irish!
I’m Irish. And I’m proud of it. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know that I was Irish or when I didn’t think it made me better than everyone else. I have a lot of friends of different backgrounds and I love them all, but I do feel a tad bit sorry for the ones who weren’t lucky enough to be born Irish. One friend in particular was born with the gift and turned his back on it despite the irish flag tatooed on his calf. It broke my heart. How could you disregard your heritage when it is so storied and strong and proud as that of the Irish? I’ll never understand.
See for me, being Irish is more than just looking at the family tree and figuring out where the grandparents came from. It’s who I am. At the worst moments of my life, I have found my strength knowing that I’m Irish and the Irish never give up. They drink and they fight and they drink somemore, often times amid the dead; who if the story of Tim Finnegan’s Wake is correct (and you bet I believe it is) get a drop of whiskey and come back to life kicking and screaming. Growing up my family had a dog named Tim Finnegan. Who names their dog after a song about an Irish Wake? We do. Because everything about the Irish is at once hilarious and charming and tragic. Like John Wayne in The Quiet Man, when the Irish get punched they just keep getting up for more.
Because of my love of my own heritage, I have always loved St. Patrick’s Day. The way I celebrate it today with two small children is very different then the way I celebrated it as a younger person. Back when I would be at the bars at noon and stay there until the next day. Back when if they weren’t playing traditional Irish music, I would request the DJ spin “Come on Eileen” and out dance Michael Flately. Back when wearing something that said “Kiss Me I’m Irish” could get me in trouble. Those days were good. Now I make corned beef and cabbage in a crock pot for my kids and watch Waking Ned Devine, a movie I love for many reasons but mostly for the scene when Michael, pretending to be Ned, gets attend his own funeral and hear the eulogy his friend Jackie gives:
Michael O’Sullivan was my great friend. But I don’t ever remember telling him that. The words that are spoken at a funeral are spoken too late for the man who is dead. What a wonderful thing it would be to visit your own funeral. To sit at the front and hear what was said, maybe say a few things yourself. Michael and I grew old together. But at times, when we laughed, we grew young. If he was here now, if he could hear what I say, I’d congratulate him on being a great man, and thank him for being a friend
It’s beautiful and it’s true. Most people never say the things they need to say to the living. And that’s why we mourn the dead so much. There’s always regret.
I didn’t know the last day I ever spent with my mother was the last – but she did. And when we were saying goodbye, she hugged me in a way that was different than how she’d hugged me before and then she told me that I was a wonderful daughter and that she was sorry for being so hard on me because although she’d never said it before she thought I was perfect. At that moment, I just thought we were having an really awesome day, but later I knew that she was saying goodbye and at the same time giving me the greatest gift of my life. Absolution.
So this St Patrick’s Day, while you’re drinking your green beer and singing “Danny Boy”, don’t forget to use your gift of gab to cut through all the blarney and thank your family or your friends or the drunk guy next to you for being there because you never know when it’s your last chance to speak up and trust me, you don’t want to miss it.
Happy St Patrick’s Day!
See for me, being Irish is more than just looking at the family tree and figuring out where the grandparents came from. It’s who I am. At the worst moments of my life, I have found my strength knowing that I’m Irish and the Irish never give up. They drink and they fight and they drink somemore, often times amid the dead; who if the story of Tim Finnegan’s Wake is correct (and you bet I believe it is) get a drop of whiskey and come back to life kicking and screaming. Growing up my family had a dog named Tim Finnegan. Who names their dog after a song about an Irish Wake? We do. Because everything about the Irish is at once hilarious and charming and tragic. Like John Wayne in The Quiet Man, when the Irish get punched they just keep getting up for more.
Because of my love of my own heritage, I have always loved St. Patrick’s Day. The way I celebrate it today with two small children is very different then the way I celebrated it as a younger person. Back when I would be at the bars at noon and stay there until the next day. Back when if they weren’t playing traditional Irish music, I would request the DJ spin “Come on Eileen” and out dance Michael Flately. Back when wearing something that said “Kiss Me I’m Irish” could get me in trouble. Those days were good. Now I make corned beef and cabbage in a crock pot for my kids and watch Waking Ned Devine, a movie I love for many reasons but mostly for the scene when Michael, pretending to be Ned, gets attend his own funeral and hear the eulogy his friend Jackie gives:
Michael O’Sullivan was my great friend. But I don’t ever remember telling him that. The words that are spoken at a funeral are spoken too late for the man who is dead. What a wonderful thing it would be to visit your own funeral. To sit at the front and hear what was said, maybe say a few things yourself. Michael and I grew old together. But at times, when we laughed, we grew young. If he was here now, if he could hear what I say, I’d congratulate him on being a great man, and thank him for being a friend
It’s beautiful and it’s true. Most people never say the things they need to say to the living. And that’s why we mourn the dead so much. There’s always regret.
I didn’t know the last day I ever spent with my mother was the last – but she did. And when we were saying goodbye, she hugged me in a way that was different than how she’d hugged me before and then she told me that I was a wonderful daughter and that she was sorry for being so hard on me because although she’d never said it before she thought I was perfect. At that moment, I just thought we were having an really awesome day, but later I knew that she was saying goodbye and at the same time giving me the greatest gift of my life. Absolution.
So this St Patrick’s Day, while you’re drinking your green beer and singing “Danny Boy”, don’t forget to use your gift of gab to cut through all the blarney and thank your family or your friends or the drunk guy next to you for being there because you never know when it’s your last chance to speak up and trust me, you don’t want to miss it.
Happy St Patrick’s Day!
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Lighten Up
Satrurday night after we finally got Charlie the Humper to sleep, Bobby and I sat down on the couch with a couple of beers for our usual Saturday night playing catch up with our DVR. I had wanted to watch the premiere of the new Parenthood TV show on ABC but had missed it earlier in the week so we were planning to check it out. I LOVED the 1989 movie Parenthood. Loved it when I saw it in the theater twenty years ago, and have loved it during every cable repeat since. The Buckmans had their eccentricities but they were a great family. When you watched the movie depending on what stage of life you were in, you wanted to have those parents or be those parents. And it holds up. I still can’t walk away from that movie on cable.
We lasted twenty minutes before I asked Bobby if we could turn the Parenthood TV show off. Unlike the Buckmans who may be crotchedy or crazy, but all still maintain their warmth – the Bravermans are just sort of crappy. Which is too bad because I expected more from a cast that included Coach (Craig T. Nelson), Nate Fisher (Peter Krause) and Lorelei Gilmore (Lauren Graham). I understand that they were trying to show how there is real love underneath all the unpleasantness that makes up a family but it was so heavy on the uncomfortable, judgemental, biting moments that I just felt sad. Sad that families have to be that way. And I had to turn it off because in real life I have seen really ugly family moments or months or years and I don’t want to relive that on a TV show. I don’t consider bringing up all my emotional baggage and driving me to tears entertaining. It’s the same reason I don’t go see movies with names like Dying Young. I’ve seen enough real people do that so when I’m going to the movies I’d rather sit back and enjoy something a little lighter.
That’s why when we turned off Parenthood, we turned on The House Bunny. Best Decision Ever. The House Bunny rocked. Sure it was low brow and unrealistic, but it had heart. And as silly as the movie was it had a message. You know, that it doesn’t matter how hot you are – it’s what’s inside that counts? Cliché? For sure. True? Definitely. And I thought it was cool that a movie with fun makeover scenes and cute boys, was really about how it’s okay to be yourself. Because girls have it rough. I see the toys marketed to them and it’s all princesses and prom queens which is a lot to live up to. I had a terrible self image as a young girl. I never thought I was attractive. My mom, on the other hand, who looked exactly like me, I thought was gorgeous. The difference between us was that she always carried herself like she was the most important person in the room. And I always carried myself like I was the Disney tween star’s dorky side kick. The way we thought about ourselves really rubbed off on the way other people thought about us. And all I can say is I am so glad I have little boys and I promise I will teach them to give a second look to the girl with glasses and a ponytail.
Anyhow, loved The House Bunny. Loved Anna Faris. Loved Christopher McDonald. Loved Colin Hanks and Rumer Willis and Kat harine McFee and the guy from All American Rejects. Seriously, they all rocked it. And watching the movie made me feel good which is how I want to feel at the end of a movie. Is that such a bad thing?
Because ever since Sunday night when Sandra Bullock won the oscar for her performance in The Blind Side, I’ve been seeing all these mean messages on Facebook and the internet about how she didn’t deserve it. Why didn’t she deserve it? Obviously, the Academy members thought she did. Is she Meryl Streep? No. Did she have to be continually, horrifying abused in her movie? No. Do some people find the story behind her movie hokey? Sure. But you know what, those people need to let it go because it’s not some hokey work of fiction, it’s a true story. That woman really did save a boy’s life. And that boy is now a college graduate and a professional football player. That’s an awesome story and it’s the kind of story that should be told. These are the kind of people we should want to emmulate. And Sandra Bullock changed her look and her voice and her demeanor and made you believe she was that woman, so who cares if Miss Congeniality was a piece of crap? She’s been a successful working actress for years and she pulled off a performance that no one thought she had in her and yes, it was in a heartwarming film. Good for her. And good for the people like me who saw it and loved it. And good for the people out there who will benefit from the kindness of strangers who maybe learned something from such a nice movie. Entertainment doesn’t always have to be heavy and dark and twisted to be quality. I loved seeing the guy who adapted the screenplay for Precious win, even though that movie is too disturbing for me to ever watch. And I was thrilled for Kathryn Bigelow because, although I haven’t seen The Hurt Locker yet, I do plan to rent it, and I’m a huge fan of her earlier directorial work on Point Break which while not Oscar-worthy material was a hugely entertaining film. But mostly I was glad to see something upbeat win. Cause there’s not enough of that in the world.
And I know there are people out there who will see my defense of lighter forms of entertainment as a sign of lower intelligence. As I’ve mentioned before, I saw Fight Club with an ass who thought that my dislike for it meant it was over my head. I understood the movie, I just hated it. I also hated the douche who thought it went over my head. And he was shocked when he found out I didn’t like him. He was so self involved that it had never occurred to him that comments like that were rude and offensive. He actually felt really bad but it was too late. When you’re that much of a condensending jerk, I don’t think even the House Bunny can fix you.
We lasted twenty minutes before I asked Bobby if we could turn the Parenthood TV show off. Unlike the Buckmans who may be crotchedy or crazy, but all still maintain their warmth – the Bravermans are just sort of crappy. Which is too bad because I expected more from a cast that included Coach (Craig T. Nelson), Nate Fisher (Peter Krause) and Lorelei Gilmore (Lauren Graham). I understand that they were trying to show how there is real love underneath all the unpleasantness that makes up a family but it was so heavy on the uncomfortable, judgemental, biting moments that I just felt sad. Sad that families have to be that way. And I had to turn it off because in real life I have seen really ugly family moments or months or years and I don’t want to relive that on a TV show. I don’t consider bringing up all my emotional baggage and driving me to tears entertaining. It’s the same reason I don’t go see movies with names like Dying Young. I’ve seen enough real people do that so when I’m going to the movies I’d rather sit back and enjoy something a little lighter.
That’s why when we turned off Parenthood, we turned on The House Bunny. Best Decision Ever. The House Bunny rocked. Sure it was low brow and unrealistic, but it had heart. And as silly as the movie was it had a message. You know, that it doesn’t matter how hot you are – it’s what’s inside that counts? Cliché? For sure. True? Definitely. And I thought it was cool that a movie with fun makeover scenes and cute boys, was really about how it’s okay to be yourself. Because girls have it rough. I see the toys marketed to them and it’s all princesses and prom queens which is a lot to live up to. I had a terrible self image as a young girl. I never thought I was attractive. My mom, on the other hand, who looked exactly like me, I thought was gorgeous. The difference between us was that she always carried herself like she was the most important person in the room. And I always carried myself like I was the Disney tween star’s dorky side kick. The way we thought about ourselves really rubbed off on the way other people thought about us. And all I can say is I am so glad I have little boys and I promise I will teach them to give a second look to the girl with glasses and a ponytail.
Anyhow, loved The House Bunny. Loved Anna Faris. Loved Christopher McDonald. Loved Colin Hanks and Rumer Willis and Kat harine McFee and the guy from All American Rejects. Seriously, they all rocked it. And watching the movie made me feel good which is how I want to feel at the end of a movie. Is that such a bad thing?
Because ever since Sunday night when Sandra Bullock won the oscar for her performance in The Blind Side, I’ve been seeing all these mean messages on Facebook and the internet about how she didn’t deserve it. Why didn’t she deserve it? Obviously, the Academy members thought she did. Is she Meryl Streep? No. Did she have to be continually, horrifying abused in her movie? No. Do some people find the story behind her movie hokey? Sure. But you know what, those people need to let it go because it’s not some hokey work of fiction, it’s a true story. That woman really did save a boy’s life. And that boy is now a college graduate and a professional football player. That’s an awesome story and it’s the kind of story that should be told. These are the kind of people we should want to emmulate. And Sandra Bullock changed her look and her voice and her demeanor and made you believe she was that woman, so who cares if Miss Congeniality was a piece of crap? She’s been a successful working actress for years and she pulled off a performance that no one thought she had in her and yes, it was in a heartwarming film. Good for her. And good for the people like me who saw it and loved it. And good for the people out there who will benefit from the kindness of strangers who maybe learned something from such a nice movie. Entertainment doesn’t always have to be heavy and dark and twisted to be quality. I loved seeing the guy who adapted the screenplay for Precious win, even though that movie is too disturbing for me to ever watch. And I was thrilled for Kathryn Bigelow because, although I haven’t seen The Hurt Locker yet, I do plan to rent it, and I’m a huge fan of her earlier directorial work on Point Break which while not Oscar-worthy material was a hugely entertaining film. But mostly I was glad to see something upbeat win. Cause there’s not enough of that in the world.
And I know there are people out there who will see my defense of lighter forms of entertainment as a sign of lower intelligence. As I’ve mentioned before, I saw Fight Club with an ass who thought that my dislike for it meant it was over my head. I understood the movie, I just hated it. I also hated the douche who thought it went over my head. And he was shocked when he found out I didn’t like him. He was so self involved that it had never occurred to him that comments like that were rude and offensive. He actually felt really bad but it was too late. When you’re that much of a condensending jerk, I don’t think even the House Bunny can fix you.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
In reality, I've got better things to do
On Monday night, I put myself through something really ugly. I watched the finale of the most recent installment of ABC’s The Bachelor. This one subtitled “On the Wings of Love” because the man looking for love is a pilot. Just typing that makes me want to throw up a little. Imagine how I felt when at the end of the program, Bachelor Jake and the girl he picked to be his wife, were serenaded on stage by Jeffrey Osborne singing live for them? I think I may have gone slightly blind. And deaf.
Why did I do this to myself you ask? I have no idea. I think it was because as a subscriber to US Weekly, I had been bombarded by stories of how nasty one of Jake’s final two women was and I just had to watch it play out. Sad, I know. And it ended just as my favorite magazine predicted it would; with Jake dumping sweet, naive, trusting Tenley for Vienna, a redneck Hooters waitress. And not the kind of Hooters waitress who is just using what God gave her to help pay for medical school. No, Vienna is the kind whose boobs and hair extensions are the only thing faker than her crazy split personality. Honestly, I was glad he picked her because they deserve each other. Jake is a cry baby tool with a smug grin and zero charisma. Bob walked in when I was watching one of the earlier episodes of the show and thought I was watching SOAP net because the lighting and Jake’s hair and the fact that he was crying while saying something like “I just have to follow my heart, even though it’s breaking” screamed daytime drama.
When it was over, I vowed to boycott all future Bachelor and Bachelorette shows including next Monday’s big event Jason & Molly’s Wedding which ABC is calling “the year’s greatest love story”. Really? The year’s greatest love story was some unknown tool picking one girl to be his wife and offering her a ring on national television and then a few months later coming back on TV and saying “oops, I made a mistake; I should have picked the other girl”. That’s romantic? Cause it sounds totally douchey to me. Not that the first girl was all that broken up about it since she parlayed her dumping into numerous other TV gigs and has already married someone else . Wow, dreams really do come true.
So anyhow, I was hoping since I’m swearing off all Bachelor related programming that my time in hell with Jake and Vienna was over. But nooooo…..ABC had to throw a wrench in my plans by announcing at the end of the show that Jake will be the eleventh “celebrity” contestant on the new Dancing with the Stars. Now, I know you’re thinking, well, do you HAVE to watch DWTS? And the answer of course is, yes, because one of the other ten contestants is Shannon Doherty and you know I can’t say no to Brenda Walsh. Despite her horrible teeth and vicious personality, she is one of my best friends.
Actually, now that I think about it, would a real BFF want me to continue to endure the pain and horror that reality TV inflicts on me? I think not. It’s time I pulled a Kelly Taylor and chose me. Goodbye reality TV. The rest of you will have to endure watching Jake, who will undoubtedly dance to “On the Wings of Love” while Vienna sits adoringly in the audience wiping wing sauce off her chin and giving dirty looks to all the other girls, by yourself.
I know many of you think I can’t swear off reality TV entirely, but you’re wrong. You see as much as I love cheesy TV, I hate being a party to the advancement of people I don’t like. And I don’t like people like Kate Gosselin or Donald Trump. I don’t like the cast of Jersey Shore. And I really don’t like Hooters – the wings are horrible.
And I’ve realized that by watching these crappy shows when I could be reading or talking on the phone or making out with Bobby, I’m helping these talentless losers stay famous. And I’m helping them get swag and free trips to St Lucia! There is no way I can be a party to that.
So, I’ll stick to scripted television and get my dancing fix by watching Brenda shimmy with Kelly, Donna and Emily Valentine on SOAPnet. Clearly, she’ll be walking home with that disco ball trophy. Too bad I won’t be watching.
Why did I do this to myself you ask? I have no idea. I think it was because as a subscriber to US Weekly, I had been bombarded by stories of how nasty one of Jake’s final two women was and I just had to watch it play out. Sad, I know. And it ended just as my favorite magazine predicted it would; with Jake dumping sweet, naive, trusting Tenley for Vienna, a redneck Hooters waitress. And not the kind of Hooters waitress who is just using what God gave her to help pay for medical school. No, Vienna is the kind whose boobs and hair extensions are the only thing faker than her crazy split personality. Honestly, I was glad he picked her because they deserve each other. Jake is a cry baby tool with a smug grin and zero charisma. Bob walked in when I was watching one of the earlier episodes of the show and thought I was watching SOAP net because the lighting and Jake’s hair and the fact that he was crying while saying something like “I just have to follow my heart, even though it’s breaking” screamed daytime drama.
When it was over, I vowed to boycott all future Bachelor and Bachelorette shows including next Monday’s big event Jason & Molly’s Wedding which ABC is calling “the year’s greatest love story”. Really? The year’s greatest love story was some unknown tool picking one girl to be his wife and offering her a ring on national television and then a few months later coming back on TV and saying “oops, I made a mistake; I should have picked the other girl”. That’s romantic? Cause it sounds totally douchey to me. Not that the first girl was all that broken up about it since she parlayed her dumping into numerous other TV gigs and has already married someone else . Wow, dreams really do come true.
So anyhow, I was hoping since I’m swearing off all Bachelor related programming that my time in hell with Jake and Vienna was over. But nooooo…..ABC had to throw a wrench in my plans by announcing at the end of the show that Jake will be the eleventh “celebrity” contestant on the new Dancing with the Stars. Now, I know you’re thinking, well, do you HAVE to watch DWTS? And the answer of course is, yes, because one of the other ten contestants is Shannon Doherty and you know I can’t say no to Brenda Walsh. Despite her horrible teeth and vicious personality, she is one of my best friends.
Actually, now that I think about it, would a real BFF want me to continue to endure the pain and horror that reality TV inflicts on me? I think not. It’s time I pulled a Kelly Taylor and chose me. Goodbye reality TV. The rest of you will have to endure watching Jake, who will undoubtedly dance to “On the Wings of Love” while Vienna sits adoringly in the audience wiping wing sauce off her chin and giving dirty looks to all the other girls, by yourself.
I know many of you think I can’t swear off reality TV entirely, but you’re wrong. You see as much as I love cheesy TV, I hate being a party to the advancement of people I don’t like. And I don’t like people like Kate Gosselin or Donald Trump. I don’t like the cast of Jersey Shore. And I really don’t like Hooters – the wings are horrible.
And I’ve realized that by watching these crappy shows when I could be reading or talking on the phone or making out with Bobby, I’m helping these talentless losers stay famous. And I’m helping them get swag and free trips to St Lucia! There is no way I can be a party to that.
So, I’ll stick to scripted television and get my dancing fix by watching Brenda shimmy with Kelly, Donna and Emily Valentine on SOAPnet. Clearly, she’ll be walking home with that disco ball trophy. Too bad I won’t be watching.
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