Pfunksfoolosophy

Life grows exceeding strange, to quote Shakespeare…it’s been really dicey for me lately so instead of dwelling on it, which I’ve been doing for about 3 weeks, I’ve come to the realization that I’ve got to remain in a state of gratitude in order to keep on truckin’.

No matter what gets you down, you owe it to yourself to own what is yours and move forward in gratitude. It may not feel like you’ve got any reason to feel grateful, believe me, I know…I’m sittin’ right next to ya. BUT, it will only drag you down more.

Take some time for yourself and sit with your challenges. Think about how you can get yourself out from under that grey cloud. All is not lost. You’ll always have a chance to give up, why do it now? The Doobies have that one right, man. Don’t give up. It sure looks bleak for me these days, but I know that I’m one blessed individual. I’ve got a lot of anger and that is coming from fear. Fear is only FALSE EVIDENCE APPEARING REAL. So, what am I gonna do about it? I’m gonna laugh. I’m gonna sing. I’m gonna make it right in my mind and manifest my victory.

You can do it too. You can. It doesn’t matter if you’re broke (check), unemployed (check) or just plain depressed (check)…there are things you can be grateful for and here are some that I can think of:

1. You’re not a serial killer. Sure, you may think that it’s a given, but there are times when you have to think…there is a certain logic to homicide. (you know I’m joking)

2. You’re a rock star and you know it, man. Music will lift your spirits, so be thankful for music.

3. Laughter is the best medicine. Watch a video/DVD that makes you happy. I’m going with Auntie Mame. She’s my inspiriation. Be thankful you can still laugh in spite of it all. Possibly BECAUSE of it all. I’m usually at my funniest when I’m pissed off or down in the dumps. Go figure.

4. You have life. You’re still breathing. You’re vital. Revel in it.

5. You’ve got an internet connection. Lots of people don’t.

6. You’re reading this and thinking, “So who died and made Pfunk Pollyanna all of a sudden?” That’s pretty funny.

7. SOMEONE loves ya.  Maybe a whole lot of someones. That’s groovy.

8. Your spirit will take you far. Keep it up. Let it shine.

9. No matter  what, I think you’re groovy. And since I think I’M pretty groovy, that makes it even groov…well, you get the point.

10. You are the only ‘you’ on the planet. You’re unique, which is an absolute. No one can take that away from you. You’re okay, kid.

Here’s hoping we all make it home okay.

In my case, here’s hoping I have a home.

ha ha h…ah, shaddup.

Always look on the bright side of life. (insert whistles here)

On the other hand, I could be all wet.
But I doubt it.
Keep on truckin’, my friends. Keep on truckin’.

This week, I’ve been fortunate enough to go to screenings of films that will be released this week and I’m pleased to tell you that they are both worth watching. Funny, ain’t it?
The first is called “Martian Child” starring the lovely and talented John Cusack. It’s the story of a science fiction author, a widower–an admitted oddball, in that he doesn’t conform, but I couldn’t really see anything odd about him…other than his fashion choices, but that’s just me…after a good deal of emotional push me pull you, he takes on a troubled child with the hope that he will eventually adopt him. The young boy believes that he is a Martian. He spends his time outdoors inside a cardboard box. He believes that he has a sensitivity to the sun’s rays. Okay, that’s quirky, but it’s all right. The story is well paced and it’s got some very cute moments–many of them provided by the even more lovely and talented Joan Cusack (a woman deserving of her own lead in a film, thank you very much) and the interplay between John’s character and the youngster playing the Martian Child. It will tug at your heartstrings without making you feel like you’ve been completely manipulated. It was directed by the same guy who wrote the screenplay for “The Color Purple” so he’s got a strong understanding of emotional balance. Mama like.

The second offering is “Dan in Real Life” starring the inexplicably attractive Steve Carell. I don’t get it. The guy is sorta hot. Can’t explain it. Maybe it’s the unabashed vulnerability, maybe it’s the green eyes, I don’t know. This story has the widower angle, but this time he’s got three daughters. He’s a columnist and he’s a little over his head. Two of his daughters are teenagers. ‘Nuff said. The stereotypical, ‘Dad who doesn’t get it-love crazed teen-fighting for independence etc.’ isn’t as hard to swallow thanks to the efforts of all of the actors and much of the dialogue.  The youngest kid is a complete delight without being too ‘cute’. I can’t stand that ‘cutesey’ thing…at all.

Anyway, the cast includes Dianne Wiest. You cannot go wrong with this lady. She always hits a homer, even if she’s in just one scene, you are happy to see her. She’s great in this movie.  The story heats up after ‘Dan’ takes his kids to his parents’ place in coastal RI. The whole family has gathered and while the unfortunately annoying Dane Cook is featured, he’s not so hard to take.  Dan goes out to the local bookstore and ends up spending a couple of hours with the beguiling Juliette Binoche. They part company, Dan is clearly smitten, but will he see her again?
Oh, yes he will because his brother (the aforementioned Dane Cook) is dating her.

Heartwarming hilarity ensues. The soundtrack is a bit on the earnestly indie side, but the performances are worth plunking down your money. It’s sweet and quiet and I found myself tearing up a little bit.
SO, go see these movies…I think you’ll be glad that you did.

When I was in college, back in the swinging forties (that’s a joke), I had a lovely credit card offer that had me in debt for oh, I dunno…10 years! Whoa, nellie…it was tough. So, my credit was banjaxed for a good long time. Well, one of the things that’s getting me through is that I started rebuilding my credit. It’s not an easy task. You’ve gotta shop around for the right way to get moving to change your bad credit rating.

Find the right offers and get a credit card.
If you make timely payments, it will be reported to the major credit agencies and in no time, you’ll be on your way to superfantastic credit.
Mine is getting there. Aren’t you glad I shared that info with you?
What’s that? I shouldn’t have been a deadbeat to begin with? Shaddup. Sometimes we fall on hard times and the credit card is the last thing we’re thinkin’ about. It ain’t an excuse, it’s a reason. Again…shaddup. 
Go check ‘em out.

I know, I know…I’ve been remiss. Lots of stuff happening and some minor computer ‘challenges’…

Okay, we left off with Michael’s (oh, so now it’s MICHAEL) take on the direction of film today–in America at least. He’s seen a trend of less than optimistic features coming out of Hollywood and in some cases, independent film. He believes that it’s in direct relationship to the war in Iraq. It seems he’s not interested in the popcorn movies as much as films that have something of value to impart to the viewers out there.

I asked him if we’re to blame for the glut of crap movies out there and his response was that we are, since we’re paying money for all of those remakes, which creates a demand. Since Hollywood is getting lazier and lazier, we’re feeding the monster. I couldn’t agree more.
(wait, this isn’t about MY opinion!)

His favorite actors today are mainly British. That saddens me, but with the exception of a few Americans like Meryl Streep and Angela Bassett, we’re in trouble. Helen Mirren, Judi Dench and Ian McKellan are really kicking our butts. He adores Ms. Streep. So, Meryl…if I may call Meryl…I can’t? Okay…if you’re reading this…please throw him a bone and make him a nice ham sandwich.

Maybe it’s because most British actors receive the training. Maybe it’s because in Great Britain, they cast according to ability not just sex appeal. Hmm, something to think about the next time you consider plunking down your hard earned cash for a feature length version of ‘The Jeffersons’. Yeah, Halle Berry as Weezie might make you consider it, right?
Stop reading and take a nap.

Mr. M gave me some of his Oscar picks and they include Ms. Berry for her performance in ‘Things We Lost in the Fire’.  I was crestfallen. Halle Berry? Is she…? Can she…? Is she an actress? Whoa.

The state of theater was another topic that we covered and his view is slightly dim, but when you think about it, Broadway is seeing a lot of Disney. A LOT. I am reminded of a speech that Gary Merrill made in ‘All About Eve’ where he said basically that even if we think it’s crap, it’s theater for someone. I can’t disparage those animated musicals too much…but still. We didn’t  need to see “Tarzan” on the Great White Way.  He was looking forward to a couple of plays, including ‘Cyrano’ with the lovely and talented Kevin Kline. I went with Claude and a review may follow. There are no words. (well, there are, but later)

When I spoke with Mr. Musto, the thing that struck me most was that he is such a fan of it all: the glamor, the art; even the crap, that it made me happy to speak with him. I wish I hadn’t felt that I was taking him away from his work.

He said that most of all, after all of his years covering the entertainment world, he’s still a fan. He’s that little solitary Italian kid from Brooklyn. He’s still appreciating it all from afar while right smack dab in the middle of the mix.  Check out his work in The Village Voice. You can get it online. I’m sure you’ll bookmark it because he’s got a great way with words and now you know he’s a friend of the foolosophy. Great kid–I know he’s gonna make it home okay.
 

So, the same day that I found out about Deborah Kerr passing away, I found out that Joey Bishop had gone to the big stage in the sky. What the heck is happening?
Ya can’t live forever, I know…but Joey was a part of something so cool, so groovy, so ring-a ding-ding that I am really saddened. The Rat Pack-Frank, Dean, Sammy, Peter and Joey were like my really cool, really hip uncles, ya know? They worked hard at entertaining us (let’s face it, some more than others), partied until the wee hours and kept on going.

Sammy Davis, Junior was a premier showman who could do impressions, play the drums, do fancy six  shooter tricks, dance…jiminy christmas he was a powerhouse! But Joey…Joey was the not so subtle comedian.

“Hey Frank, get over here and tell us about the GOOD things the Mob’s been doing”

(that ain’t a direct quote, but it’s close) Joey pushed the envelope for a laugh. He was ironic and funny and I loved watching him. Stand up comedy has changed since the days of the borscht belt schtick that made Joey famous, but there is a place for it still. Some of that stuff is still funny. Shelley Berman, Corbett Monica…they all lay the foundation, whether you believe it or not, for Richard Pryor, George Carlin, Bill Cosby, Joan Rivers, Eddie Murphy, Chris Rock and Jerry Seinfeld. So, they all owe something to Joey Bishop.

He was a mensch. He’ll be missed. It’s official. The big room is cookin’, ’cause they’re all up there now. Two shows a night and there’s plenty of ring-a-ding-ding. If there’s a rock and roll heaven, there’s GOT to be a Vegas heaven, right?

Hey there, folks.

I was going to finish up my compelling and exciting interview with columnist Michael Musto today, but something happened that pre-empted my thrilling finale. (man, I really sold it, huh?) You see, a cinema icon passed away yesterday. Miss Deborah Kerr, my favorite Scottish actress is now with the angels. Although I never met her, she was a part of my family. My family is a group of movie addicts and I remember my mom letting me stay up late when our favorite movies came on the late show. One such film was ‘An Affair to Remember’. Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr were impeccable in their acting and I loved the costumes,  the dialogue and the score so very often when that flick came on channel 7 with Frank Avruch hosting, I would have to be either late to school or miss it entirely from my movie hangover.

She was elegant and had wonderful timing. I believed that she was ‘Mrs. Anna’ when I watched ‘The King and I’. I completely lost myself in ‘Tea and Sympathy’ and she helped shape my sensibilities about film acting. She was also a movie star. There’s not much of that these days. Seems it’s rather hard for actors to balance that now.

We either get the movie star: Julia Roberts, Tom Cruise and their ilk, or we have actors- William H. Macy, Meryl Streep, Helen Mirren, Angela Bassett, Philip Seymour Hoffman…

There is a difference, ya know? Nothing’s wrong with being glamorous and in the public eye, but there is something to be said for the actor who takes their job seriously, and not to the exclusion of their humanity, mind you, but you know…the folks who get their hands dirty. The person who wants to entertain and enlighten and makes you forget what was said about them on ‘Entertainment Tonight’. (and they haven’t had a sex tape leaked to the press)

I’m digressing. Deborah Kerr had me enrapt as I watched her falling for Burt Lancaster in ‘From Here to Eternity’. Guys, she was sexy and smart and get this–NOT vulgar. We didn’t have to see her heaving naked breasts in order to know she was hot to trot for Burt. As an aside, I have to tell you…Lancaster back in the day was a hottie.

So, goodbye dear friend. They’re havin’ some kinda rehearsal up there in actors’ heaven. She’s probably up there with all of her old co-stars creating magic for the angels.

Hey gang!

You’ll never guess what I did recently…no, I didn’t get a pedicure…yikes.

Nope, didn’t win the lottery. (oh, if only)

I had a lovely chat with one of my absolute favorite columnists, Michael Musto.

He’s a columnist for The Village Voice, which is one of the premier underground/independent newspapers in the country. It’s been a particular favorite of mine since high school because I really thought that I would one day live in New York’s Greenwich Village as a starving, but fabulous artist.
Little did I know that I would be a starving artist…not so fabulous and definitely not living in the now very, very tony Greenwich Village. (doggone hipsters and celebrities!)

Back to the real story here– Michael Musto. His column covers the entertainment beat and it’s usually filled with wit and insight with a good dose of some honest to goodness intelligent cattiness. He’s been writing for The Voice for over 20 years and I’ve always enjoyed what he’s written, even if I may disagree with some of his opinions; at least he makes you think while you’re chuckling.

Since I couldn’t transcribe the entire interview due to my lack of even rudimentary typing skills, I will give you the Reader’s Digest version of my conversation with the man who puts the ‘dolce’ in la dolce musto.

Here’s how it all began: I sent him an email requesting an interview, but part of me thought that a busy and in demand/in the know type like Michael Musto would probably brush me off with a ‘thanks but no thanks, sister’.

 I wish you guys could have been in my apartment when I saw the email from him. My mouth hung open (and not just because I am an allergy induced mouth breather) and my eyes widened. Could it BE, dear diary? Yep. And the man is nothing if not pro-active. He sent me his office number and asked if it would be okay to do it over the phone. What a guy!
Of COURSE…then I thought about how unprepared I was. My plan was to send him questions and then have him answer them and return it via email. Nope, he was agreeable to actually speak with me. Whoa, Nellie…getting what I want is something I’m unaccustomed to, but I forged ahead.

I must confess, I may have giggled as I punched the numbers into my mobile phone.

(that finicky contraption that seems to drop calls at the most inconvenient times)

  It rang, I requested his extension and off we went…Michael’s voice is soft and gentle, which was sort of surprising to me since I suppose I pictured a voice like my uncle Chooch’s…you know, sort of whiskey and cigarette smoke tinged. He put me at ease immediately by actually agreeing to be interviewed and was gracious and kind. It’s nice to know that there are still folks out there who have kindness in them, no matter their notoriety.I told him that  I was unprepared and he told me that he would speak slowly. (just like in Auntie Mame)Anyway…first things first:How’d he get his start?

Mr. Musto started out the only Italian kid in a Brooklyn neighborhood. His playmates were onscreen—Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor to name a couple of great actors from back in the day.

It seems young Michael was a film critic even then. He would return from the movie theater and review what he’d seen, writing the reviews on index cards. That’s sweet, isn’t it?
Very organized and journalist-like at such a young age… I felt instant kinship as I used to pretend to guest host the Mike Douglas Show. Our guests usually included Rex Reed and Liza Minnelli.

As Michael grew older, he began writing plays. He expressed to me that he has always known that he wanted to be a writer. His favorite authors range from Stendahl, Dickens and Shakespeare to Wolfe and Rex Reed (you know, you’ve gotta love that guy). This is guy is legit. He knows his stuff. It made me happy to know that he really loved films.

Back to the action: Mr. Musto wrote for the Spectator, started sending his clips around to indie papers; freelancing until he found his home at the Village Voice.

He’s led a sort of charmed life when you think about it, but he’s got the writing talent to cause you to stop yourself before you begin to hate him for his good fortune.

Awards shows are a particular favorite for him-he calls them ‘The Gay Olympics’.

That laughed me. I’m not a fan of awards shows, BUT he made me see the light.

It’s all about the entitled getting jerked around emotionally. I can get down with that for at least a little while.

I asked him about the state of cinema today and he had solid opinions, which I will divulge in my next post.
This one was long enough.

There have been some trying days for me recently, but I’ve gotta tell ya I am one thankful heifer. I’ve got groceries, people who love me and I had a great walk today.

Additionally, I’ve got a surprise for you, dear readers. I had the great good fortune of being able to interview Michael Musto, my favorite columnist for the Village Voice, a local independent/underground newspaper. I’ll post that later. I’ll give you time to look him up and read some of his work. He’s groovy. It was a joy to speak with him. I want to be friends with him and drink martinis. Seriously, he’s a peach. And very smart. Hmmm…I’ll have to fix him up with a pal.

But, on to why life is good for yours truly, despite the semi filled with crap that seems to be zooming at me at about 120 mph: I’m not dead yet, people seem to like me and I’ve got more love in my life than a body’s got a right to have, really. My cupboards are full, I have plenty of time to make money…lord knows I need it…and I have good friends. What more do I need? (don’t answer that.) PLUS, guys…I’ve got YOU. Awww, that’s sweet.

Oh, another thing: I am NOT Criss Angel. That guy really bothers me.

Couldn’t leave it alone, could I? Nope.
Keep on rockin’! Keep bein’ positive…if life is givin’ you lemons right now…find some Everclear and make yourself a lemondrop. Screw the lemonade!

Since I’ve been blogging, I have noticed that loads of folks have a keen interest in celebrities and their comings and goings…I do not, however–unless I can benefit in some way, so if there’s a pool or something, let me know.

Here is a list of things I would like to NOT discuss.

10. Paris Hilton

9. Lindsay Lohan

8. Nicole–well, Nicoles–Richie or Kidman, makes no nevermind to me…

7. Any celebrity caught drinking and driving. I think we can all say, ‘get a driver’ and be done with it.

6. Whether or not Jennifer Lopez is pregnant.

5. Sarah Silverman. At. All.

4. Any celebrity awards show and the fashion commentary that accompany them.

3. Whether the latest ‘gay’ rumor about any good looking actor is true or not.

2. Same for female actors.

1. Tom ‘Yep, I own the world inexplicably’ Cruise. Crazy or not, I don’t care. Please shut it.

Okay, so that’s about it.

I’m sure there are other things, but at this point there are plenty of important things we could be discussing in this column…like new ice cream flavors and of course the situation in Darfur. Mind you, they aren’t of equal importance, they just sorta popped in my head at the same time.

Anwar Sadat’s funeral services were held in Cairo. I was in high school. The Pretenders were just becoming a part of my consciousness.

My sister gave birth to my niece.  That one event changed my life forever. My niece became my track team’s mascot for a time. She was the darling of my school. The principal and many of the teachers remembered my sister and I showed my niece Koya off every chance I could get.
My sister thought she had made up the name. It’s actually a mountain in Japan and loosely translated, according to a Japanese friend, ‘Koya’ means ’spiritual place’.  Hmm…

You know, I remember when my sister went into labor with Koya. I was joking around with her. Her pregnancy had been miserable. She couldn’t stand to have her own saliva in her mouth so she was sorta like an old man with a slop jar. She was also…’touchy’, shall we say? I remember one time during her pregnancy when a friend of mine and I were going out to a party and she asked that we bring home some pudding. We forgot. She wept. She screamed at me, telling me how inconsiderate I was. My response? “Who made you the pudding sheriff?” She was not charmed.

Still, I was nervous for her. She was the first one to have a kid among the siblings and since I still in high school it was scary. Pam was in labor for oh, three full days and part of the fourth. My Mom had to remind me of that today. They finally performed an emergency C-section and Koya came out of it with a seizure disorder that she outgrew by the time she was two.
Oh, how I adored that baby. I would wake up in the middle of the night and creep in to watch her sleep. She was so precious to us all. Her clothes were all so tiny and sweet. Polly Flinders hand smocked dresses, Petit Bateau, handmade garments–you would have sworn that a princess had been born, such was the flurry to dress her. My favorite outfit actually made her look like the Cheshire Cat from Disney’s Alice in Wonderland. I still have that picture around here somewhere.
I remember her sleeping with me in my canopy bed and me not getting a wink. We took her absolutely everywhere in her pram. Yep, she had a pram. We were insane.

Now, the kid is gonna be twenty and six. She reminded me that I was getting old as she’s close to thirty. The hell kinda thing is that to say to the woman who raised ya? Ingrate.

Nooo, my kid is my heart. She’s funny and thoughtful…she’s a bitch like her biological mom, she’s devoted to her child, she’s got a great singing voice (NOT inherited from her biological mother, I can tell ya that), she is crafty…I feel blessed to have her in my life.

When she was about 2 or so, I was in the bathroom and I had locked the door. For some reason she had a little Italian accent, or so it seemed. She said, ‘Unlock-a da do, Auntie! Why you no open-a da do?’ I never  let her forget that when she comments about Pooper calling his shovel his ‘bubble’.
She has been a joy in my life and today is her birthday.

May she find her happiness, her silliness and her joy today.

Koya Marie, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! (but at 8:45pm)

I love you more than space.