The thought of eating a marshmallow Peep makes the enamel on my teeth dissolve, but there's something about these new Halloween Cocoa Bats. I'll have to look out for them.
posted by Leigh Ellwood at8:22 AM
2003/09/29
Clearly Frank Zappa can no longer be ridiculed for his unusual habit of naming offspring
"What name do you give this child to be baptized?" asked the priest.
Interesting observation of the week: we're driving to the bike shop when we pass the KFC on First Colonial. PeTA has a demonstration in full swing - young people bearing signs, shouting slogans (however, unlike true PeTA fashion, everybody was clothed). KFC Cruelty! was their battle cry.
It's nice for young people to have a cause, but what struck us as we drove past is that not one hundred yards away from this particular KFC is a Chik-Fil-A, devoid of protesters. So, is Chik-Fil-A less cruel to their chickens? Has nobody anything to say about the exploitation of cows in their billboard marketing? Or is PeTA limited in their sign-making budget that they can only afford to protest one chicken establishment at a time? If that's the case, why not hit Sir Paulie up for a few bucks? Surely he'd be willing to send the dough for posterboard and Sharpies. Spread the wealth, PeTA.
Who's on third? Wait, shouldn't that be 'I don't know'?
Robert PalmerandGeorge Plimpton in the same week. Man, that sucks. I still get a kick out that Simpsons episode where George tries to bribe Lisa into throwing the spelling bee ("...and a hot plate!"). And remember those Mattel Intellivision ads he did back in the Dark Ages?
Once a year, the Chesapeake Bay-Bridge Tunnel shuts down one side to allow people to bike or walk across - walkers on one side, bikers on the other. For bikers, it's a 17-mile round trip on the stretch of bridge reserved for us, but this year Malc and I are going for 34. Not an arduous chore for me, on flat road. This route has one hill I wasn't able to conquer the first year we did this. Last year was okay, but the wind was strong enough to blow a man off his bike (and it did). Add to the equation hundreds of people wobbling around you on beach cruisers, and suddenly you're in a video game.
Next up after this: the Neptune Festival midnight ride (postponed thanks to Izzy B) and eventually a ride down the Colonial Parkway. Half of the parkway is closed one day a year to bikers, too, but we missed it this year; still a great ride in the fall, when there are fewer tour buses.
KATHRYN and MALCOLM are sitting in Havana Restaurant, awaiting dinner. Three other PATRONS are seated at the next table. The WOMAN is talking on her cell phone, while her two MALE COMPANIONS are shifting awkward glances at each other.
MALCOLM: (quietly, to KATHRYN) That woman's been on the phone for ten minutes.
KATHRYN: I thought people went to restaurants to get away from the phone.
MALCOLM: She's completely ignoring those guys.
KATHRYN: Should we ask them to join us?
FADE OUT
The moral of this brief scene: people talk about the stupid things you do in public.
Karina and Rob Fabian are at it again. These two helped produce FIE's Leaps of Faith, which received some of the best reviews of all our titles. They're getting another short story anthology together. Details below:
Stories ranging from 5,000 to 10,000 words are sought for Infinite Space, Infinite God (tentative title), an anthology edited by Karina and Rob Fabian. Karina is a regular columnist for Montana Catholic and has published numerous articles and stories in various publications. Rob is an Air Force officer and writer of articles on political and military use of space.
Ideal submissions will highlight a coexistence of science and the Catholic faith, with any conflicts resolved in a manner that leaves both realms intact. Anything that goes against papal teachings will need serious consideration. Science should not negate the need for religion, nor should it be the root of all evil, and vice versa. Stories may examine the technicalities of religious practice (e.g. broadcasting religious services to Alpha Centauri, or holding Mass in zero gravity); how technology may affect doctrine (Do clones need baptism? Can they be saved?) or how religion may temper scientific research. Whatever the plot, science and/or technology should play an integral role.
Stories may be set in any time, though an ideal story set in the near-future should contain plausible principles. Likewise, be sure use of religion is doctrinally correct or changes are explained (e.g. hypothesizing that the
Catholic Church may allow a priest to marry if it's the only way he would be allowed on a colony ship, etc.)
Submissions must be the original work of the author; authors may submit more than one story for consideration. Stories never before published will be
considered, as will previously published stories so long as the author retains all rights. Authors selected for the anthology will receive reimbursement as determined by the publisher. (We have one interested, but without any guarentees.)
We'll take submissions at leapsoffaith@(NOSPAM)cox.net until February 2004.
Vatican to crack down on liturgical abuses like clapping and dancing in the aisles. I got into a Internet catfight once with a "Catholic Charasmatic" over this kind of thing. I'm the kind of gal who believes there is a time and place for a certain kind of thing. Bouncing up and down and turning cartwheels - okay for Lollapalooza, not Mass. CC not only disagreed with me, but berated me for being so old-fashioned, citing how David danced before the Ark of the Covanent. If it was good enough for him, I was told, it should be good enough for Mass, and that I should grin and bear it.
No, I'll just go to another church. I'm not saying CC is wrong, or that people who prefer the liturgical boogie are being disrespectful, just that I prefer the quiet dignity of the Mass. It is possible to find joy in the calm.
...unless you're Bobby Cox. TBS makes it really easy to read his lips while Don Sutton prattles on about something or other.
The above comment was spurred by this article on the increase of profanity on television, particularly during the so-called "family hour." I don't know if it's true myself, but I can tell you that naughty words are the tamest aspects of some of the stuff I've followed.
Right now, Malc's hooked on ESPN's Playmakers. Take bits of pieces of All About Eve (without the constant preening), HBO's OZ (without the sodomy), and Arli$$ (without the humor, and Arliss), then put everybody in a football uniform. Instant TV show. Lots of cussing. Course, it's not on during the family hour, nor is it network, so I suppose anything goes there.
One thing the article doesn't mention, I noticed, is the use (or abuse?) of the Lord's name in vain. This is a problem on television, too, one that can be easily remedied. Here's a suggestion: take somebody else's name in vain. G. Gordon Liddy comes to mind for some reason.
It's a good exercise if you find yourself slipping and breaking this important commandment. Every time you think you are going to slip up, just take a deep breath and mutter G. Gordon Liddy. You might actually feel better for having done it.
Did I ever tell you about the time Malc and I had breakfast at a Denny's in Jupiter, Florida and Mr. Carlson from WKRP was sitting with his wife in the next booth? I didn't? Well, it's not much of a story. They were there when we arrived, ate breakfast, and left. Service at Denny's was lousy because every waitress in the joint was too busy catering to their every need to notice the place was full of people who never got to rub elbows with Loni Anderson. As if Jupiter, Florida doesn't see many celebrities--hello! Burt Reynolds lives there! He must eat at IHOP. (I'll refrain from any further Loni Anderson remarks.)
We didn't bug him for an autograph or anything. I figure celebrities don't want to be bothered while trying to enjoy a Grand Slam with sausage. If you admire a particular TV or movie star, the best gift you can probably give them is peace and quiet. Here's hoping Mr. Carlson is at peace now.
It is with this in mind that I present to you, the blog reader, a list of suitable woman Madonna may kiss on national television in the near (or way distant) future. Clip and save for future reference as a tick sheet, because with Madonna we never know what crazy, mixed-up scheme she has planned...
Yoko Ono
Helen Gurley Brown (she's still alive, I checked)
Betty Garrett (Edna Babish from Laverne & Shirley)
Madame Chiang Kai-Shek
The Orbit Gum Chick
any of the Golden Girls (except Blanche, I like Blanche)
RuPaul
Senator Dianne Feinstein
List is subject to change.
posted by Leigh Ellwood at2:58 PM
The worst of it
This is one of the parking lots of Norfolk NAS at the peak of the storm. If you've been to Norfolk you'll know it sits rather low to the ground. Streets will flood even in the simplest of storms, if there's such a thing as a simple storm. Imagine if Izzy B had gone to Cat-5 when it touched land. You wouldn't see cars.
Some co-workers are still without power here, but thankfully nobody was injured. We'll be spending the rest of the day scraping masking tape off our windows.
My nephew turned one on Friday. He has me for an aunt. Please pray for him.
posted by Leigh Ellwood at10:11 PM
Idle Hands
They told us we were daft to build a condo on the beach, but we did anyway. It was the grandest condo you ever did see. It sank into the beach...so, we built another one. That one also sank into the beach, so we built a third condo. That one burned down, fell over, then sank into the beach. But the fourth one stayed up, even after Izzy B came through town, and this is where we'll stay until we can find ourselves some huge tracts of land.
Only fitting that I recap the storm on National Talk Like a Pirate Day. Thing is, I was smart enough to bug out before she hit, so I won't be able to relay much.
We are safely out of harm's way, thanks for the prayers and good thoughts. All the important stuff is with us, so there's no point in looting our place, and if you do our insurance is paid in full. I have no idea how our place fared, but I understand the Lynnhaven Pier and 15th Street Pier each took a beating. No word on the Duck-In Restaurant, which sits right on the bay. I heard much of the city is still out of power, but I hope it comes back before we get home. It's distressing to not know what to expect upon returning home. The way I see it, though, what we have at home are just things. Things can be replaced, people can't. Many of our neighbors had the sense to seek higher ground, and I'm glad for that.
The images on the Weather Channel of the Oceanfront looked brutal, and it amazed me to see people out there frolicking in the storm. With my luck I'd have been hit with a chunk of the pier and sucked into the ocean.
Check out WAVY 10, our local NBC station, for a better look at Isabel's impact. The Hague area of Norfolk, where we used to live, was nearly underwater at one point - one of the hazards of living at sea level. Makes one appreciate the mountains.
My former teacher Lynn Harlin is now a publisher. She is currently working with a news reporter from my hometown to publish the story of her (the reporter's) bout with breast cancer. Breast cancer research is a pet charity of mine; please check out Donna's Journal for more details. The finished product will be sold to raise money for breast cancer awareness.
A number of you are interested in the death penalty debate. Yesterday I received a press release from Tom Batiuk, creator of Funky Winkerbean. He has recently started a story arc which features one of his characters, Lisa, working for the public defender's office to appeal a death penalty conviction. It will be interesting to see how readers react to the strip, which has matured quite a bit over the year. I'll be updating my Funky site to reflect the new stuff.
Not sure when I'll be blogging again. Maybe two minutes from now, maybe next week. Last word is that Isabel is coming right for us, so I'll be battening down the hatches. Please pray this storm fizzles out, like right now.
The National Center for Missing and Exploited Children and WingsEpress.com have teamed up! We want to help combat exploitation of children and child abduction, so on Sunday, November 16, WingsEpress.com will have a book sale to raise money for The National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. All profits on this day will go to The National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. Check our website for details at WingsEpress.com. While you're at it, check out our bookstore and see the quality, innovative fiction we offer. There's something to please everyone's tastes. Remember, when you purchase a novel on Sunday, November 16, at WingsEpress.com , you not only make a generous donation, but receive WONDERFUL award-winning novels in return. Together we can make a difference for these children.
This sale counts for Saints and the two novels I have copyedited for Wings thus far: Birds Do It and Prairie Peace--trade paper and eBook. So if you haven't bought Saints yet you might want to consider doing so on 11/16. Saints Preserve Us makes a great Christmas gift, is guaranteed to brighten your whites, and puts a little spice in your picadillo. Purchase two copies on 11/16 and the planets will align. Purchase three and I'll come over and paint your house.
In case you're curious, it is exactly 500 miles from the Rockland Methodist Church in Belpre, Ohio to my condo. Just got back from Nephew's birthday/baptism to find 87 e-mail messages, half of them virus spam, the other half Yahoo Group digests. And, a grieving housemaid in Nigeria who lost her wealthy American companions in a tragic plane crash needs my help withdrawing $10 million from some bank...I'll have to refer her to my attorney at the law offices of Lee, Lifeson, and Peart.
I did, however, receive a legitmate e-mail from author Paul Clayton, who is trying to drum up publicity for his novel Carl Melcher Goes to Vietnam. I've not read the book, but it was nominated for the 2001 Frankfurt eBook Award. Paul sez he is willing to give away a review copy to the first person who responds on the blog. Now, it's almost midnight here and I've spent nine hours in the truck. My eyes grow heavy and my sight grows dim. Paul didn't specify whose blog, but I couldn't find one for him. Therefore, be the first to respond to this blog and I'll let Paul know you're interested. Here is more information on his book. G'night.
Ballerina too heavy to lift. I'll bet in the world of ballet this means she weighs a whopping 90 pounds. I'm going to go crawl into a hole now.
posted by Leigh Ellwood at1:36 PM
Hey, don't touch that coat!
Blogger Docksbay has seen fit to remind us of one-hit wonder Oran "Juice" Jones, who gave us "The Rain," a rap/R&B hybrid about a man finding his lynx coat-wearing cutie out with another man. I remember this song vaguely, I remember it was played to death on WAPE 95 in its prime. What I also remember is that a "response" song done to the same tune was also recorded, but I can't remember who did it.
Juice's song went: I saw you...and him...walking in the rain/You were holding hands and I would never be the same.
The female version went: Yes, you saw me...and him...walking in the rain/We were holding hands, 'cause I had to make a change (?). The song goes on to diss the Juice. Anybody remember this?
Before you start e-mailing me about the song "Thunder and Lightning" by Miss Thang, I don't think this is the song I remember. I found those lyrics, and I remember some that don't match. 'Course, I could just be losing my mind, but I swear there was another female response to "The Rain."
I was watching Monday Night Football with my dad when I found out John Lennon had been shot.
I was in Louisville at my grandmother's house watching game shows when we learned President Reagan had been shot.
I was in the library at Sacred Heart School when Sister Josephine announced on the PA that Pope John Paul II had been shot.
I was standing with Malcolm at Sneaker's Grill in Athens, Georgia with about 500 other people watching a tiny TV propped in one corner as OJ Simpson was acquitted of murder.
On 9/11 I went to work and was checking my e-mail when a co-worker came in and said he'd heard on the radio that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. We turned on the TV to see the tower smoking.
Veni, Sancte Spiritus, reple tuorum corda fidelium, et tui amoris in eis ignem accende.
St. Valerie Bertinelli, patron of hair, pray for us
The Feathered Back Hair Site: we always called it "flyback hair." I tried this style once back at Sacred Heart in the eighth grade, but it never worked for me because I never used hairspray or gel. One side would be fine, but the other side just collapsed and it looked as if I had been sleeping on my desk. I was the problem hair child, which might have explained how I wound up with the really short "Janine Turner from Northern Exposure" cut years before that became popular.
Two unrelated items of note: 1) We like to eat at Waffle House. We're from the South, we like grease, don't fault us for it. We're not at the point where we have the hits of Mary Welch Rogers uploaded to our MP3 players, but we'll take double hashbrowns all the way (even with Bert's chili) over Moons Over My Hammy any day of the week.
The Waffle House online jukebox is not working right now, so I Googled Mary Welch Rogers and found she is a Catholic and has recorded a number of inspirational CDs, including one benefitting the Missionaries of Charity. At least, I think this is the Waffle House lady.
At Waffle House, there are over 22,020,096 ways to prepare a hamburger; this is up from the 849,000 or so printed on the older menus. Join me now as we count the ways (see link above).
Item two: Madonna's kiddie book is now available. Madonna is also the "author" of a fun little tome called Sex. Here's what the late Lewis Grizzard had to say about that: Put it Back On, Madonna.
Is The Exorcistthe Scariest. Movie. Ever? Maybe from a pea soup-and-garbled-spooky-voice standpoint, but my vote still goes to The Manchurian Candidate, probably because something like that actually seems possible, especially if you're into conspiracy. You'll know why when you see it for yourself. The above link proclaims Kathy Bates in Misery as the all-time spooky lady - good call - though you have to give Angela Lansbury props for Manchurian. You watch that movie and tell me how the hell she was passed up at the Oscars.
IHS Press is a local Catholic publisher specializing in reprints of classic Catholic writing. One of their latest releases is a reprint of Chesteron, for all you GK fans.
The first cassette tape my mother ever bought me was Carole King's Tapestry. I was ten at the time, a recent graduate of PBS daytime ditties and a newly minted advocate of AM radio - WAPE 690, The Big Ape, home of The Greaseman. The first time I heard Joan Jett's "I Love Rock and Roll" I decided I wanted to be her when I grew up. I asked for Joan's album for my birthday, and got Tapestry instead. I had no idea who Carole King was, and when I asked Mom all she said was, "She's very good."
It took a while for me to figure that out on my own. Before long I had worn out the tape playing "I Feel the Earth Move" and "Smackwater Jack" over and over again. Oh, I got the Joan Jett tape eventually, too, and wore that one out, but unlike Tapestry I have yet to buy a replacement.
Well, today the replacement tape too has died from overuse. Right here at work. Though I must give the good folks at Epic/Ode some credit because this copy lasted a number of years longer than the first one. Definitely time to make the switch to CD.
If you have a daughter begging you for Britney's latest, do her a favor and give her Tapestry. Then tell her that Carole King never had to wear dental floss or kiss an aging hack diva on national television to prove her worth as an artist.
Somewhere in New York there has to be a Southern Baptist church with a big-a** revival tent that Arthur Ashe Stadium could borrow for the rest of the week.
posted by Leigh Ellwood at8:38 AM
Fisher of Men, King of Kings, Mercy!
Pope Elvis I? Read The Curt Jester and decide for yourself.
Number of St. Bloggers got a nice plug in The Dallas Morning News (registration required) - Sursum Corda, Bill Cork, and Disputations among them. The Tablet also contacted me for an article on Christian blogging, so if you get that in the UK let me know if you see something.
One week before Nephew Jack's birthday party I get the news that #2 is on the way, hatching in the spring. I know if it's a girl Brother and Sis-in-Law have picked Olivia (is there a St. Olivia, I'm too lazy to check catholic.org), but I don't think they have a reserve boy's name. Here is a list of names they are not allowed to consider: Ian (that's ours); any Presidential surname (especially Clinton); names of US states and/or Canadian provinces and/or state capitals; names coupled with "Joe" or "Bob" as the middle name ("Lee" is acceptable, with the exception of Geddy Lee because that's our reserve); the name of any NASCAR driver as first and middle names; Candide; Brick; Seven; Soda; Brie; Mackerel; Salmon; Poached Salmon in a White Wine Sauce.
Yes, I expect to be jeered for this, but I always preferred Charles Hamilton (the late Rand Brooks) over the other guys. The first time I saw Gone With the Wind, when I was a little girl, it was love at first sight. That smile, and I was gone. So what if he dressed like the doorman at the Beverly Wilshire, as Leslie Howard once said when describing the film's costumes? Charles was cute, and the prospect of such a nice guy ending up with snooty India Wilkes (Honey Wilkes in the book) unnerved me to no end, though Scarlett would not have been my second choice. I'd have hooked him up with the youngest O'Hara girl, she was the only one I could stand.
I could never figure out why Scarlett was so hung up on Ashley Wilkes, who looked and acted as if he had a broomstick permanently lodged up his (blank). I don't know what Scarlett was expecting with that guy; at least with Charles she could have had some fun teaching him a few things (had he survived the war), and he never would have strayed or turned his attention to more boring pursuits. Rhett? The Will Riker of the Reconstruction Era? No thanks.
First "abortion killer" to be executed today in my home state. You have to ask yourself, though, if killing people who perform abortions, then killing the people who do the killing, helps.
posted by Leigh Ellwood at9:04 AM
They didn't apologize for Rush, though. No matter.
I had not heard of the Canadian show "This Hour Has 22 Minutes" until recently. Their website doesn't offer many clues, other than it's either a sketch comedy series or something along the lines of the old HBO "Not Necessarily the News" show. Anyway, there's an amusing RealPlayer clip of Colin Mocherie's apology to America if you have the bandwidth.
Thank you for your thoughts and prayers. The surgery was brief and successful. I was under the entire time, so the last thing I remember before going in was getting the mask. About forty minutes later I woke up and was being wheeled to recovery. A follow-up appointment next week should let me know that things are 100% okay.
Mom flew up for the weekend so Malc didn't have the burden of holding my hand the entire weekend. The rest of Friday was basically for sleeping, which set me off schedule on Saturday, which saw me watching Doggy Fizzle Televizzle around midnight and laughing my a** off (guess the drugs hadn't worn off yet). Around Sunday I started to get punchy; there's only so long one can lie on the couch and watch the US Open (the rain delays didn't help), but at least Andre's still in the hunt. Would like to see Jenny make the finals for once, too. Today, I begin my proper eating habits anew.
Not much. The new Write Stuff is out, and I've a ton of books to review. September's the month to finish up Pray For Us Sinners and whatever else is on the backburner. I'd like to get it done before NaNo, because I intend to do something separate for that.
Britney, Christina, Thalia, Mariah...amateurs!
