Archive for February, 2011
Let’s Finish That Feast
February 28, 2011
Over the past week, we’ve heard and seen a lot of the Sheen and it ain’t over yet (nor is it the first time Sheen has jumped the tracks – there was all that 9/11 conspiracy stuff). Sometimes it can be hard to decipher what he’s saying, especially if you were still a child in the 1980s and aren’t up on slang used in 1987.
Here is a guide to understanding the lingo and the worldview of The Winningest Man in Showbiz. All of these words of wisdom have been culled from his various appearances over the past week.
“I’m tired of pretending I’m not a total bitchin’ rock star from Mars.”
What This Means: I can no longer contain my craziness and so I’m hanging it out to dry on the line. Take a good, long look.
Bitchin’ is 1980s lingo for awesome, amazing, super cool, rad, etc. etc. “Rock Star from Mars” means cokehead.
“The run I was on made Sinatra, Flynn, Jagger, Richards just look like droopy-eyed armless children.”
What This Means: I do a lot of drugs. I do so many drugs I don’t really deserve to be here anymore but… hey, whatcha gonna do? I keep trying to die but I keep on making it.
Armless children refers to “Thalidomide babies,” of the early 1960s – these are children who were born deformed because their mother took this dangerous sedative while pregnant.
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Jesus Heals…?
February 27, 2011This is from a mural painted on the side of what might be a church in Minneapolis… it’s located on E. Franklin Ave between 12th and 13th Avenues South…
The building says Jesus heals but my dirty, dirty mind doesn’t consider this healing… unless it’s, you know, consensual. I know, I’m a heathen! There is a place for me in hell.
My parents kept a copy of the edition of the Appleton Post-Crescent from the day I was born – May 3rd, 1973. Recently, this paper came into my possession (along with all the other flotsam and jetsam from my childhood when my parents cleaned out their storage shed).
Keith took this photo of some of the movies section of the paper on that day:
I think this says a lot about the time I was born into. The 41 Outdoor was playing two X-rated films – Love Under 17 and Sensuous Teen. Not only can I not imagine these films ever playing at a theater now, I really can’t imagine them playing at an outdoor theater on a 50-foot screen. There would be an uproar.
The other big thing seems to have been movies about motorcycling – The Wild Angels, Hell’s Angels ’69, Hells Angels on Wheels and Angels From Hell. Is it just me or does this seem like many variations on one theme?
But the most interesting films are definitely Black Mama, White Mama and Night of the Cobra Women at the Tower Outdoor. How cool is that double bill?
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Cricket Accoutrements
February 26, 2011Are you looking for a new hobby? Maybe you want to get into Chinese cricket culture! In addition to crickets, you’ll need to invest in some gear.
This collection is for crickets kept as pets for their “singing” talent. There is also the dark side of the cricket world – fighting crickets. I guess watching two crickets fight could be interesting… the first two times. Beyond that, well, you’re a strange person. I guess your crickets would need some Vaseline, tiny boxing gloves, some minuscule butterfly bandages…
Crickets!! A proud, 2,000 year history of entertaining.
The Wednesday Outlook: Feb. 23, 2011
February 23, 2011
This week I’m in denial. It did not snow 14 inches. It’s practically spring. So what if the back yard gate is snowed shut again, forcing me to walk around the block to get the garbage to the alley? So what if Freja and I have to mount and descend piles of snow on our walks? Pretty soon I’ll be in sandals and dresses, fanning myself and complaining about the heat. Right? Right?
Right?
The only consolation is that the birds are making noise in the mornings again, which always means that a change is going to happen even if we can’t immediately see/feel it.
Here’s what’s been holding my attention lately.
Books
I’ve found that the best way to pretend everything is OK is to not go outside that often. What’s kept me going as I hide under a blanket is reading. I’m on a “rich lady” memoir jag. I’ve burned through Dead End Gene Pool by Wendy Burden, Why Not Say What Happened by Ivana Lowell (descended from the Guinness family) and The World of Gloria Vanderbilt by Wendy Goodman and, although in a slightly different vein, Diana Vreeland by Eleanor Dwight. I’m fascinated by the wealthy who grow up emotionally and socially impoverished. Setting aside Diana “Fashion Savant” Vreeland, Gloria is by far the most interesting and accomplished, although I do have to question some of her interior design.
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Eagle Wings – All You Care To Eat
February 22, 2011In keeping with my theme from last week of posters/flyers I’d like to see, I mocked up another hot one tonight (under the guidance and supervision of PhotoShop Wizard Keith).
I think I’m breaking new ground for bar food! Eagle: it’s what for dinner.
It’s a strange endeavor to try to draw a deep-fried eagle wing.
Hello, my name is Lauren Bayhue. I am in therapy with the renowned psychoanalyst Dr. Oliver Cuddles. We are currently trolling my personal history via the important rooms of my life, and what happened in each of them, as a way of coming to terms with the past, my eating disorder, my inability to hold a job, my unwillingness to stop donating $10 per day to orphans in Guatemala when I am currently unable to pay my rent, etc. Also, my predilection for high-heeled shoes that cause me to fall repeatedly, often at important functions or pivotal moments.
In case you haven't met, this is Dr. Oliver Cuddles.
The first room of my life was my nursery. While I don’t remember the time I spent here, Dr. Cuddles assures me that this is probably one of the most important rooms. Sort of “where it all began” and all that. Here is a photo:
My nursery was in the basement. You can tell by the high-up, single window, the low-ceiling and the linoleum floor. My mother was upset because she had to move the washer and dryer out of this basement room to make a place for me. I had two older brothers who were already occupying the bedrooms. My parents referred to them and “The Heir” and “The Spare.” Their names are actually Kenneth and Royce.
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These Liaisons… They Are Dangerous
February 20, 2011
I made a disturbing discovery this weekend. My teenage self was an unreliable narrator. How else to explain how I’d convinced myself for years, since first seeing the film on VHS, that Dangerous Liaisons (1988) is a story well-told? Was it the same misguided taste that led me to believe that Ponderosa Steakhouse was a place to get a superb meal?
My memory of this film is of a breathless, tightly-wound drama full of sex and intrigue acted by amazing thespians (Glenn Close, John Malkovich, Michelle Pfeiffer) in gorgeous period costumes. Clearly, my high school self was blown away. (It didn’t take much.)
But the cold (adult) reality? A horribly written mess with comical casting. The official summary of the film is, “Rich and bored aristocrats in Rococo France play high-stakes games of passion and betrayal.” My summary would be more along the lines of, “Rich and bored aristocrats try to keep themselves busy and, in so doing, change their motivation once every day or so, so often, in fact, that the viewer gets lost and bored and starts to concentrate on John Malcovich’s teeth and why they were not fixed if he was going to pursue a life in the movies.”
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But You Are In That Chair: Social Media Edition, The Second
February 17, 2011
From time to time, Baby Jane Hudson appears here with her question and answer column, But You Are In That Chair: Baby Jane’s Advice For the Confused, Depressed and Clueless. Today she continues (after a long layoff due to the holidays, winter, a small fire in her music room, a leaky vertebrae and a small drinking problem, since dealt with) her exploration of all things social media.
Dear Baby Jane,
Recently I went on a job interview and the interviewer asked me if I happened to follow him on Twitter. I guess this guy is some big deal on Twitter. I had to say no, I don’t follow him. Then he said, “Well, who do you follow?” and “How many people follow you?” The truth is, not that many people follow me. But am I to be judged solely on how many Twitter followers I have? Do I have nothing else to offer? What is this world coming to?
Don’t Judge,
San Diego, CA
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