PAULA WHYMAN

  curiouswriter

Heard these three songs last night on my way home from Back-to-School Night:

 Andy Kim - Rock Me, Gently

Social Distortion - Ring of Fire

Green Day - Hitchin' a Ride

Why they are great: 

Andy Kim because I'm seriously enjoying the 1970s music resurgence, and it's why I watch the extremely bad show Swingtown, even though my husband teases me about it.  Okay for that, and the clothes.  And the wallpaper.  The dialogue is hilarious.  Oh but maybe it's not supposed to be. 

Social Distortion does a good cover of Ring of Fire, which I hardly need to say is a terrific song.  I'm trying to recall if I've ever heard a bad cover of it (karaoke does not count). 

Green Day needs no explanation. 

Am I the only mom with the loud music going?  Does everyone else listen to Enya?

Seriously, one day we were driving and my son said, Mom, I think people can hear the music outside of our car. 

I said, oh, is that bad? 

(Am I the Embarassing Mom?  I guess it's inevitable.)

Dear Public School Administrators:

Thank you for your letters, forms, and surveys.  I'm so glad you have decided to become a Green School.  As luck would have it, I have decided to become a Green Parent.  So please recycle the information I gave you last year regarding Emergency Contact Information, How My Child Learns, and PTA Committee Volunteer Sign-Up.  None of that information has changed since school let out, three months ago.  Just doing my part to conserve energy.

Best regards,

Curiouswriter

(who was hospitalized on being found suffocating under blizzard of paper) 

 

He has a Mad Men DVD on his campaign airplane!

Word is he hasn't watched it yet.  I guess he's been busy... 

In the Tetons, the danger of being charged by a bison is real (though mainly if you act like a Homer, as one of my kids would say, and treat wild animals like domestic cattle). 

So is the danger of encountering  moose antler art:

Also, to that Wildlife Expeditions van that nearly ran us and the bison off the road in order to get to the next photo op, we have your license plate number.

Mick Jagger is now about the same age as my parents.  Why do I find this so disturbing? 

Anyway, um, happy birthday.

It's official, XM and Sirius are going to merge.  As an XM listener and fan of stations from 40-53 and (okay, okay) channels 7 and 8, I worry that some of the more obscure playlists will be jettisoned in favor of the most popular formats.  Where else can I hear both Government Issue AND Looking Glass?? 

On the other hand, there are a few bands that are seriously (Siriusly? uuugggh) overplayed on XM, and I wouldn't mind a little more variety.  Like, say, 90% of the time I turn to channel 49, I hear Bryan Adams.  I never liked Bryan Adams even when I was supposed to, so, please.  Please.

I wouldn't mind a little more Bon Jovi.  Just a little.  Too much can be, y'know, too much.

And, on channel 53, I want more irony-filled covers, because they're fun, like the hardcore version of Seasons in the Sun (I'm sorry I don't remember who it was...). 

And Stop STOP playing Master and Servant on channel 44.  I like Depeche Mode, but it has to be the right moment, and it has to be Enjoy the Silence.  Or Personal Jesus. 

And, how about more Pennywise on channel 54 and less Death Cab for Cutie?  Market-watchers say that in a down stock market situation, hard rock does better.  There are actual statistics that show this.  And statistics don't lie as long as they're saying what I want to hear.  So, uh, let's not forget that.

It shouldn't even be necessary to point out that Queen did a lot of other songs besides Killer Queen (even though that's a killer song) and (spare me) Another One Bites the Dust.  And I never ever want to hear We Will Rock You, ever again.  Only once did I hear Fat-Bottomed Girls on XM.  Only once!  And what about Bicycle?

Clearly this merger raises a number of issues, but I hope it will be an opportunity to address the gaps in the current programming.  I'm pretty sure I'm going to have more to say on this (like, I can't believe I didn't mention David Soul-- You know, Don't give up on us, baby, it's only one black eye...)

 

So, I'll call this Part 1. 

And, for the record, forget Saturday Night; the best Bay City Rollers song is I Only Wanna Be With You.

Check out the new Jib-Jab video.

Maybe I just need to laugh, what with the price of gas, etc., but McCain's gland and Obama on a unicorn are spit-your-coffee funny.

 

So, let me get this straight.

--Oil has hit another all-time high at $147 per barrel. 

--Iran has nuclear missiles pointing at everyone.

--Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac stocks are down 40%.

--Oh, and Starbucks is closing 600 outlets... 

 

And, when I was running an errand this morning, I saw people waiting in a line that stretched around the block.  The last time I saw a line like this it was for Stones tickets (yeah, when people used to wait in line for concert tickets, remember?). 

 

Was this the line for laid-off baristas?  Not unless the laid-off baristas were all waiting to buy a new iphone 3G for $200.

 

Now, just to make sure I'm on track, here is the thought process:  I can barely afford the gas to get to the store, but dang-it, I'm getting that new iphone!  Because I really NEED a new phone!  Um, okay, because I really NEED those new Google apps!  Um, okay, because...I...just...want one.

 

Nothing says "America" quite like our capacity for denial.

My novel is set in 1980 right around the 4th of July, and in the story, some pretty major events take place at the big neighborhood barbecue.  I was thinking about this, and also thinking about how little has changed in the way I spend the 4th of July now compared with the way I spent it growing up.  With the exception of the years when we used to go see the Beach Boys on the Mall (very little of which I actually remember), what we do now to mark the day is pretty much the same.  Except for the macaroni salad.  It's now PASTA salad tossed with balsamic and olive oil (hold the mayo, please!).  And quite possibly, there won't be any Jell-O.  But Jell-O is a variable I'm not willing to predict; it shows up when you least expect it.  There will be cupcakes, both homemade and store-bought, mini and full-size.  My son will want one of each, and I will say "pick one."  Later, my husband and I will learn that we both said "pick one," and our son got away with it.

Unlike the cookout in my book, I'm assuming that no one will be telling bad Richard Pryor jokes while lighting the grill.  And, probably, no one will quote Emerson.  Or get stoned.  Or have sex behind the pool pump room.  Yes, this does all happen in my book.  It did not happen to me.  I want to make that clear, in case any former (or current) neighbors are reading this.

We have a parade on our street.  All the kids ride bikes or scooters, and it's kind of cool to see who got their training wheels off each year.  One mom takes charge and gets everyone to stand still for photos (she always succeeds--I think I need her to take our holiday shots this year), and someone has a boombox that plays corny patriotic music.  Then we eat a lot and swim, and the kids shoot each other with high-powered water guns while all of us liberal parents look on in horror.

So, on Friday, I'll be wearing my 32-year-old American Bicentennial hat, which I pull out just for the occasion, and eating my once-a-year burger (I don't know exactly why, it just turns out that way, but that's a topic for another day).  There's probably more to complain about regarding the State of the Union these days then there was when I was a kid (at least it seems that way), but for one afternoon, in keeping with the tradition, we'll only complain about property taxes.

Whatever your annual tradition is, or even if you don't have one, I hope you do something fun.  And remember, if it contains mayonnaise, don't let it sit out too long.

Shakespearean insults

 

Dear Sen. Obama,

I really admire you.  I've had high hopes, along with all the other Dems starving for an inspiring, ELECTABLE leader, ever since that famous convention speech.  So, pardon me while I express my deep disappointment in your response to the SCOTUS ruling on the DC gun law. 

What were you thinking??

Not even a few months ago, you were all oh yeah, it's a good law, blah blah.  And now, in the name of political expediency, the law was "overreaching."  I'm sure it's not necessary to say here that just because SCOTUS says so doesn't mean we all have to agree.  We all get why this happened--  It's a conservative court. 

I thought you were someone who'd stand up.  I thought you'd express sincere disappointment.  But, no, you're just like the rest when it comes down to it, bowing to expediency, letting the political wind carry you like a leaf.  This should not be surprising; it's exactly what we expect from politicians, but you've based your campaign on your willingness to be different from the rest, to take an independent stand, and that is one thing we valued about you. 

Instead, you're all ready to stand up for whatever's easy, apparently.  Great. That's just what we look for in a leader. 

See if you can learn from this.  Next time, keep the flip-flops on your feet.

I'll be watching.

Sincerely,

Curiouswriter 

Four women writers went to the movies last night and saw Sex and the City.  (What, you think we only go to readings?) 

In the scene where Carrie sits down at the computer and stares at the screen where she has typed 

Love.

and she pauses and then adds an ellipsis:

Love...

pauses again, then backspaces out the ellipsis:

Love.

Why were we the only ones who laughed...?

The movie was somewhat disappointing, I'd say.  Although there were flashes of comic brilliance, at times it felt like a Brady Bunch reunion flick.  Why were the women always so insanely happy and "surprised" to see each other?  Why was Carrie's hair always pulled back from her forehead like that?  And why did so many of Samantha's outfits look like they came from the Dress Barn?

Besides the naked neighbor, the one who had the most on-screen sex was Samantha's annoying dog.  What was that about?

Beforehand, most of us decided we liked Miranda the best.  This could be a good name for a band:  The Three Mirandas. 

Stay tuned.

What happened to the Good Humor man?  I don't mean, why is he sometimes a woman; what I mean is, what happened to the Good and especially the Humor?  Saturday at the pool, the ice cream truck came. (In fact, it came every hour, until I wanted to throttle someone with the nearest SpongeBobsicle.  Mark my words:  There will be an ice cream truck-rage incident if this continues.) 

No doubt driving one of these trucks is a thankless job (a job I'm sure I wanted when I was seven, because I thought one of the benefits was unlimited access), although the kids are always happy and remember...when prodded...to say thank you.  The parents of the youngest kids wait in line with the hangdog expression that says it's too dang hot to have the argument, again, and when will they start carrying beer on that truck, anyway?  The parents of the older kids hand out soggy bills and run the other way. 

So on Saturday, the woman behind the wheel reminded me of the witch from the Hansel and Gretel story AFTER she reveals her true colors and threatens to bake the kids in the oven.  Has this always been the case, and I just didn't notice when I was a kid?  Did the music warning of the truck's imminent arrival always sound disturbingly off-key, like the music they play in horror flicks over scenes with children in them, to let you know that SOMETHING IS TERRIBLY WRONG? 

Wasn't the truck clean and tidy in the olden days?  When the door slid open, you'd move as close as possible to feel the frosty air that was inside.

I mean, the last thing you want when you're handed your Nutty Buddy is a tight shot of the female purveyor's thick sweaty armpit hair.  And this is not armpit hair that is making a political or life style statement. 

Trust me.

On Writer's Almanac this morning, Garrison Keillor quoted Thomas Mann:

"A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it
is for other people."

 

What went wrong?

 

In pursuit of the creative spark, some of you clean, some of you organize, and some, ahem, plagiarize.  But one artist confided that when he wants to look at the world through a new lens, he changes his shoes...to the wrong feet.

 

Jim Johnston of Mexico City wrote:

"In my studio I wear those hideous (but comfortable) rubber shoes with
holes in them, known as 'Crocs'.  When I'm stuck for creative direction
I take them off, switch feet and walk around a bit, then sit back down
to write.  The slight, rubbery discomfort usually gives me enough of a
jolt to help out."

Congratulations, Jim!

I hope the brand new beginner's guide to bread baking that I'm sending you, along with a bonus dough-scraper, will provide new inspiration.  I highly recommend wearing the shoes on the proper feet during kneading, however.  I'd rather not be held responsible for any Croc-related mishaps... 

 

(By the way, check out Jim's great blog on Mexico City here.)

 

I was thinking about what Jim said, and I realized that when I need to shake things up, I don't change my shoes, but I do change where I write.  After writing the first draft of my novel in the not-so-quiet room of the public library, I worked on revisions while I was away at a residency, and finished revising in an unused classroom in a local community center.  Now that I've started work on a new novel, I've been trying to write in my dining room, but the frog tank on the table is distracting me (isn't it true we can become distracted by the oddest things).  The crickets we put in there for the frog to eat are drowning.  I feel less sorry for them as frog food, somehow, but more sorry for them because even when I pick them out of the water and put them back on a rock, they dive right in again.  (I know, there are metaphors galore lurking here; I'm just not ready to parse them.)  Not high on the evolutionary ladder, brain-wise, these crickets doing the dead-cricket float.  I try to tell them the frog will only eat them if they're moving.  It's all right if the frog eats them; they've served a noble purpose.  But if they drown, stupidly?  Then I'm a murderer.

I'm thinking I may have to change locations, again. 

Did anyone else notice that when John Edwards endorsed Senator Obama, he paraphrased Ronald Reagan?

 “There is one man who knows in his heart that it is time to tear down that wall and make one America, Barack Obama.”

 Has it come to this?  Does Edwards really believe that the polarization of so-called red and blue America is comparable to that of East and West Germany in 1987?  And what subliminal message is he sending--that Sen. Obama is the next Ronald Reagan--or that Edwards is?

From the NYT: 

In a stark shift for the Bush administration, the United States has
sent a climate report to the United Nations detailing specific and
far-reaching effects that it says global warming will inflict on the
American environment.

In the report, the administration for the
first time mostly blames human actions for recent global warming. It
says the main culprit is the burning of fossil fuels that send
heat-trapping greenhouse gases into the atmosphere.

But while
the report says the United States will be substantially changed in the
next few decades -- ''very likely'' seeing the disruption of snow-fed
water supplies, more stifling heat waves and the permanent
disappearance of Rocky Mountain meadows and coastal marshes, for
example -- it does not propose any major shift in the administration's
policy on greenhouse gases.

It recommends adapting to inevitable changes.  (!)

Didn't anyone in the Bush administration read the story of the ant and the grasshopper?  (Short version:  The grasshopper doesn't plan ahead for winter, and it dies.)

Wow.  It's good Bush has finally come around to the whole climate change thing.  And, considering the outcome of the administration's "proactive" response to Iraq, I can understand their hesitation about responding aggressively to the threat of climate change even if doing so might slow global environmental damage.  Wouldn't want to get in over their heads.  Not again.  Could be a trick. 
The polar bears...could be...faking...

 

I just found out the auto-archive isn't auto-archiving...so I've moved all the posts on the 2008 Campaign, plus some other miscellaneous posts (Hamlet, diets) to a new page called Blog Archive.  Those posts are no longer open to comments.  I've also renamed the Curious Archive, which would have been totally confusing, to 1980 Curiosities, since that's what it is (my posts on intriguing events from 1980 that I came across in the process of researching my novel).  Hope that helps!

Oops, wrong photo...  (party on, girl!)

From an actual conversation:

Child 1: “He hit me”

ME: “Why did he hit you?”

Child 1: “I don’t know.”

ME: “There’s no hitting. Why did you hit him?”

Child 2: “Because he stole my rubber band.”

Child 1: “It was MY rubber band.”

ME: “Aren’t there enough rubber bands to go around?

Child 1: “He has all of them.”

ME: “Give your brother some rubber bands.”

Child 2: “No.”

ME: “Why do you need so many rubber bands?”

Child 2: “For my lumber yard.”

ME: ??

ME: “Last chance.”

Child 2: “No.”

Child 1: “Waah! It’s not fair! He has all the rubber bands.”

ME: “That’s it. No playing with rubber bands for the rest of the day. Now don’t bother me about rubber bands again.”

What do you do to jump-start the creative process when you're stalled on a project, unable to focus, or otherwise stuck?  I bake (I think I've made that clear). And maybe I spend too much time trying to find font colors that work with lavender. (hint: stay away from orange)

Anyway, give me your best ideas for the times when the work just isn't happening.  Or, tell me what you've tried that you hoped would work but didn't. The most interesting response will get a free beginner's bread cookbook!

If you're too shy to post here, send me an email.

First I want to say that I have nothing against Honda Civics.  These cars get good mileage, and that is a very good thing.  And, I have nothing against major Greek gods, as far as I know.  But today on Route 50, I found that I was tailgating, um, traveling behind none other than Zeus (so said the vanity plate).  I couldn't help wondering why he wasn't moving a little faster, imparting some of his Mount Olympus thunder to this respectable while outwardly modest (and rather poorly maintained) vehicle.  And I also must wonder, why the designation "Zeus 1"?  Can I take that to mean there's a Zeus 2 and perhaps even Zeus 3?  Are these other Zeuses decoys?  Say, for when Apollo gets angry?  Seriously, who names their car, and by extension themselves, after a god?  And if, if Zeus drives a Civic, did Hera get the CLK?  Is that why Hades is stuck with a rowboat? 

I'm only trying to understand... 

Maybe he could talk some sense into all those bitter, gun- and Bible-wielding folks. You think? Clearly, Sen. Obama could use some help with his Pennsylvania campaign. Any suggestions?

Don't ribbon magnets seem as tired as the "Baby on Board" signs from the 1970s? (What I really want to see is a sign that says "Sociopath on Board." Then I'm duly warned.) But I digress... What's an apt symbol to replace the yellow ribbon? Does it seem unpatriotic even to suggest it?

We've made some changes here at Curiouswriter HQ--We now have Real Blog capabilities, for one.  But the important things haven't changed.  (We're not going decaf, not yet, not by a longshot.)  

Note that many of the topics below were moved from my old Discussions page, where posting comments worked differently. As a result, you'll see some comments posted within the text in the old format, which could be rather confusing.  But you can still post to those topics, now using the "Add Comment" button.

I don't know why, but the time stamps on all my entries are off.  It's actually 9:30am here, in case you're interested.

It seems that one of the unexpected side "benefits" of having a functional blog has been a sudden onslaught of p**n spam in some of the Comments sections. Now see, I knew it, you're all rushing off for a look! But, if I may offer the spammers a critique, their approach is utilitarian, but rather dull and uninspired. Where were they in the 7th grade when everyone was doing Mad Libs? Listening in from the next room and writing down the words without the story (such as it was)? I mean, at least there should be a story.  I know, I'm talking to a computer which, according to my data, is probably located in Poland.

Maybe if I speak LOUDLY.