Pfunksfoolosophy

Yeah, yeah…I know what you’re saying. “Pfunk! How could you?” Well, it’s like this: I got sucked in because of that crazy Lacey character. She was like the Devil, man. Crazy with a capital ‘K’ and a backwards ‘z’, right? Wow. I couldn’t stop watching her and praying for her comeuppance. What was up with Bret diggin’ her in the first place? Hmmm, could it be that she was easy like a Sunday morning? Could be. Far be it for me to pass judgment on an easy gal. That would be the pot calling the kettle black, but still. This guy’s seen more vaginas than a country doctor and for me, that spells full body protection just to shake hands. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.

The thing is, I was bored the first time I watched it and had no reading material.

It was a diversion. Not a pleasant one, mind you but a diversion none the less. Those girls were nuts and I loved it. See, they represented all that is challenging about the world. They had an overweening need to be on television. We created that. All of us. Most folks want that fame–even if it’s only for Warhol’s famous fifteen minutes. Do you ever wonder why that is? Maybe it’s because they want to feel ’special’ because they feel ordinary. Nothing is wrong with ordinary. Oftentimes, ordinary people do extraordinary things. We overcome adversity every day. We raise children, we love our families, we contribute to humanity.

These things all have value. Perhaps not a monetary value and certainly nothing that will

make the

tabloids chase after you. You know, I think about my own quest for success in the

entertainment

industry and I wonder if I’ll be able to handle the scrutiny if I’m fortunate enough to be able to support my family doing something that I love. Will I be able to withstand lurid tabloid stories about my checkered past? Hell, the way things are going, I’ll probably be the one to supply them with stories. My response will be ‘More than likely’. Did you really…? “More than likely” See, I’m not ashamed of anything that I’ve done or said. That isn’t to say that I don’t wish that I could have done some things differently, but heck…that’s life.

So getting back to these ’rock of love’ chicks…man, that was scary. Heather, the stripper

really looked so much better when she wasn’t all tarted up for him. Once she glopped on her two pounds of

spackle she looked like a drag queen. That can’t be groovy. It wasn’t. THEN she didn’t even pay attention when the brother was going to crash from having low blood sugar. Clearly, she wasn’t in love with him, but what he represented. Jet set lifestyle, privilege, money, partying…but what about when your man is sick? Damn, girl…admit that your attraction to money and get over it.

Ah, but Jes was my girl. She won. That rocks. The fact that I got involved in the show does

NOT rock.

EH, such is life.

I’ll be back to normal soon. No more reality television for me.

I’ve gotta pick up a book, man.

Gonna re-read Truman Capote. Breakfast at Tiffany’s never lets you down.

Talk to you soon.

ONE THING?! Guys, as a writer I find that reality shows on network television are the ruination of any writer’s career. Sure, they’ve got writers, but I really am not compelled to watch yet another season of ‘Survivor’. I get the concept and I couldn’t care less.

The ratings increase and one hour dramas, sitcoms really suffer as a result. We’re getting crappier and crappier shows. I grew up watching Bob Newhart (the one with Suzanne Pleshette, G-d bless her), Carol Burnett, WKRP, The Rockford Files and of course, Trapper John, MD (with the lovely and talented hottie trifecta of Pernell Roberts, Brian Stokes Mitchell AND Gregory Harrison)…now don’t get me wrong, there are a few shows that hold my interest…try as I might to get away from it, ER still keeps me coming back.

You think it’s starting the death rattle and they manage to spice it up. Law & Order SVU is still crankin’ out good stories with stellar acting (yes, I loves me some Chris Meloni-the guy is a total package acting wise) but I weep for the sitcom.
What happened to funny and smart? For me, Friends was the beginning of the end. Inexplicably, that show was hot right up until the end. I never got it. I didn’t get the ‘funny’. I suppose a lot of people didn’t get Seinfeld, but that was my show. Maybe because I could relate to the talk of ‘lowtalkers’, double dipping’, ‘this, that and the other’ and the concept of friends having their own language. My best friend and I have our own and it’s just as delightful as anything Larry David could have come up with. Very often I wondered if he hadn’t been eavesdropping on my phone conversations.

“The Vault” is universally known in my circle of friends. So, why are we seeing such crap on television? Why are we becoming emotionally involved with Bret Michaels, Flavor Flav and why in the name of all that is good are we giving ‘New York’, arguably one of the least appealing people to strut in front of a camera, a second chance?
Are we at long last so bored with our lives that instead of picking up a book, we tune in to watch her apply petroleum jelly to her weave and eat enormous amounts of junk food, all the while professing to be a princess?

Mind you, there are a some shows out there with some value. The Biggest Loser is helpful to those of us who want to shed some poundage and like seeing others suffer in the process.

No, I’m kidding. The Biggest Loser is a show that sucks you in because these folks have to look at it as their last chance at good health. I do enjoy watching it because I can feel for them. Food is a tough give up. When it’s been your constant companion and your unconditional friend, you’ve got to ask yourself some tough questions. I am inspired to work out along with them and limit my fat intake. Up to a point. Ice cream and I have a very, very special relationship.  We both know how good it is to be together, but we both know that we’re no good for one another. Eh. If lovin’ Ben and Jerry is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.

There are other reality shows, I’m sure. My feeling is, if we can benefit somehow by watching…it’s all good. But in the interest of your intellectual and spiritual growth, there are times when you’ve got to reconnect with humanity.
Folks, turn off your televisions and get out in the world. Pick up a book. Start a book club. Write your own. Go see some live music and support local bands.

Do anything but discuss “The Pick up Artist”. Oh, I watched it. Yep, I sure did. That guy ‘Mystery’ is anything BUT a mystery. Dude’s just a skinny boring guy who wears eyeliner and black nail polish. He’s got great hair, though. I’ll give him that. The poor saps who went for his crap are in trouble. Still, I watched that crap. There was nothing else on. I never once thought: “Hey, maybe I don’t HAVE to watch t.v. right now”…I just watched. Like a sap.

Let’s take part in our own reality, shall we? Isn’t life tricky enough without having to watch people who will most likely receive a nice payday make asses of themselves?
It will only make you upset. You don’t want to become the reality show sniper, do ya?
Okay, so promise me you’ll take a break for a little while and read the paper. Get involved with a charity organization…take care of yourself…learn a foreign language. Hey, learn Sign Language. It’s easy and it’s fun. THEN when you see a couple of deaf people signing away on the street or in a restaurant you can eavesdrop. I do it all the time and while I feel guilt, it’s good to know that women rag at their men in all languages.

Take care. Time to boogie.

I dont’ know about you folks, but I am really getting tired of hearing about Britney, Paris, Nicole, Lindsay and all the rest. Even mentioning them in this blog is giving them attention.

That makes me nutty. Remember when we actually got NEWS when we tuned in? Now, the 15 minutes of fame people ARE the news. We didn’t get the constant barrage of celebrity information when I was growing up. You only got the Rona Barrett report and that was blessedly brief. Usually involved Zsa Zsa Gabor. SHE was the Paris Hilton of my day (sorta) and she had the decency to keep her panties on. She just married a lot. Gotta respect that. No talent to speak of, but we never saw photos of her vagina or video of her engaging in a sexual encounter. The thing is, WE are creating the market by purchasing tabloids and tuning in to every entertainment news outlet we can get our grubby little hands on.
We have so many blogs and websites devoted to entertainment gossip that I am convinced that I know entirely too much about Angelina Jolie. I don’t even read them, but I feel as though I’m contributing somehow by just seeing them. It’s my feeling that we’ve got to cry ‘Uncle’ soon or I’m going to become the tabloid sniper.
What happened to private lives being private? I do NOT want to know why Nicole is so skinny. I don’t care. I’ve got rent to pay.

Paris Hilton’s jail time that never was? Sweet mother of heaven! Who cares?
I heartily pray that after each news soundbite the reporter will say: And for the record, I couldn’t care less. Wait–nope. I really couldn’t. Back to you, Mary!

What if we all wrote in and said: We don’t care. We. Just. Don’t. Care.

It doesn’t make me feel better to know that some starlet has a substance abuse problem due to the fact that she’s the chief breadwinner in her family and that precludes sound parenting. It saddens me.

I don’t delight in the misery of some undereducated songstress who makes horrible choices for herself and her children; I want to get her home number and tell her to bunk with me for a little while until she can get her head on straight. And I want to wash her mouth out with soap. And get her to some parenting classes.

Foolosophy is about being forgiving and lending a hand when it’s needed. It’s about loving well and often. It’s not about being a sin voyeur, ya know?
I can’t point a finger at someone, man. All I can do is pray that these poor kids make it home okay.

Chances are, they won’t. So, I’ve gotta take a break from television for a time. I can’t bring myself to make fun of them anymore. What if it was one of my kids in this kind of trouble?
I would want compassion offered them.  It doesn’t matter if these kids are wealthy and famous. They are in trouble. They’re rudderless and guess what? Our derision isn’t helpful.

It’s not entertaining.
Poor kids. I really DO hope they make it home okay.

My pal Sassy tagged me and I love her so, here goes.

You have to use the first letter of your name to answer the questions below.

Yikes

1. Famous Singer: Petula Clark
2. Four letter word: Pimp
3. Street: Pleasant
4. Color: Purple
5. Gifts/Presents: Porcelain
6. Vehicle: Pick up truck
7. Things in Souvenir Shop: Post cards
8. Boy Name: Payton
9. Girl Name: Parthenia
10. Movie Title: Priscilla, Queen of the Desert
11. Drink: Purple Hooter
12. Occupation: Pediatrician
13. Celebrity: Priscilla Presley
14. Magazine: Parks and Recreation
15. U.S. City: Portland, Maine
16. Pro Sports: Polo
17. Fruit: Papaya
18. Reason For Being Late To Work: Persistent pooping
19. Something You Throw Away: Paper
20. Something You Shout: Put that thing away!
21. Cartoon Character: Peter Parker –Spiderman!

Okay, so I’m not gonna tag anyone…I just did it to please Sassafrass.

Hey there gang.

I have been listening to some ‘mix’ CDs that I made last year. They make me so happy. Why do they make me so happy? Well, because I have compiled songs from my childhood. Yep, that’s right. I am a child of the late sixties and seventies. So, one minute I might want to listen to Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell and the next I might just need to hear Helen Reddy singing ‘That Ain’t No Way to Treat a Lady’ (okay, so I won’t NEED to, but you get the point).
Some of the tunes on these CDs are pure unadulterated crap–’Alone Again, Naturally’ comes to mind in the crap category, but it was on the radio during my formative years, so I had to have it on my Sad Songs and Seconal compilation CD. Have you ever listened to the lyrics of that one? Yikes, man. He’s gonna commit suicide. Parents didn’t complain about music back then like they do now. Dude, they SHOULD have.

Another one is ‘At Seventeen’ by Janis Ian. Wow, if you were one of those girls with ‘ravaged faces’ you might have been saving up the St. Joseph’s children’s aspirin… There was a LOT of depressing, angst ridden stuff out there, but there were also some cool Jim Croce songs like ‘Workin’ at the carwash blues’, ‘Roller Derby Queen’ and of course, ‘Operator’, my particular favorite for after break up blues.

Hey, what’s your guilty pleasure song? Is it something by a group you just can’t name in public (like the Go-Go’s?)? Is it by Barry Manilow? At the Copa is a groovy number. Dramatic and has that catchy chorus… I can’t decide on my favorite guilty pleasure tune, which is why I have them all on my mix CDs. I label them according to their particular ‘kink’ so to speak…you know, ’suicide songs’, ‘what the heck were they thinking?’, ‘no more tears’ (donna summer and barbra streisand numbers), ‘funky and cool’ (james brown, fred wesley, parliament/funkadelic), ‘gay but okay’ (now when I say ‘gay’ I mean in the seventh grade sense, not the homosexual sense. big difference)…you get the idea.

So, I’d like to know what you consider guilty pleasure music. Comment and let me know.

You might just get a nicely burned CD from yours truly if the play list is particulary enjoyable. Or funny. Or just plain strange. Stranger things have happened.

My friend has been telling me and telling  me to write a blog (could be because she’s sick of hearing me rant). She’s actually not the only person to tell me  this, she’s just the  only one who knows what she’s  talking about.

Her blog http://plus1.rainbowofwords.com  is filled with cool links, interesting recipes, fun ideas and how she’s dealing with suddenly being a single parent.

She’s even got a girly section which is cute.  There’s something for everyone  and she’s also in Florida so if you’re  wondering what life is like down there, she’s your go-to gal.
I’ll tell you this  much: she’s honest and funny…she’s genuine and she’s an information junkie just like me.

Check  her out, you’ll be glad that you did.

She didn’t really threaten me at pezpoint, but I suspect she might  have…if she had a pez dispenser.