Grey Gardens Overfloweth

Several years ago, my friend Juggsy told me that I needed to watch the documentary "Grey Gardens" as it was all about these two crazy relatives of Jackie O living in a dilapidated old mansion and it was hilarious. Grey Gardens, the documentary, centers on Edith Bouvier Beale and Edie Beale - the deliciously eccentric aunt and cousin of Jackie O. Once famous socialites in the Hamptons, the Beales have deteriorated into East Hampton's most notorious recluses, living in their 28-room dilapidated mansion.

Crazy and eccentric doesn't even begin to describe these two ladies. First, little Edie, for a reason never explained, constantly wears a variety of shirts, scarves, towels, and skirts on her head. At no point in the movie is little Edie's head uncovered. There are fabulous song and dance numbers, gorgeous fashions akin to costuming, and some of the best dialogue imaginable. Here is the Grey Gardens fan site.

Entertainment Weekly named it one of the top cult favorites and had this to say: "Proof positive that when an aristocratic American family gets big enough, some relatives will wind up shut-ins at an overgrown, feline-infested East Hampton mansion belting out shrill show tunes and feeding wild raccoons whole bags of Wonder bread in the attic. This bizarre, sad and touching portrait of elderly Edith Bouvier Beale (Jackie Kennedy's aunt) and her middle-aged ex-model daughter "Little" Edie, instantly became one of the most talked-about documentaries of all time."

Here's a site devoted to little Edie. Here are some of the fantastic quotes from the movie. I wish I could find a link to little Edie's big dance number. Sometimes even though the internet seems to offer you everything you've ever wanted, it denies you think you seek most.

The biggest push at reviving interest in Grey Gardens is two-fold.

First, it is now an off-Broadway musical. Here is a brief interview piece on the show. Originally, Grey Gardens was slated to close the day before I got to NYC for a spot of vacation. So, I was forced to buy tickets to other productions which promised to be neither as interesting nor intriguing. After filling up my vacation with shows, Grey Gardens announces that the run has been extended. I'm seriously thinking of forfeiting a ticket in order to see this.

Second, Grey Gardens is slated to be made into a fictionalized movie starring Jessica Lange and Drew Barrymore. I think the casting is horrible and they are both too young for the roles. Little Edie, despite her moniker, is in her fifties and big Edie is in her seventies. There is no way that Jessica Lange can pull off seventy, especially with all of that hatchety face work she's been having lately.

If you haven't seen Grey Gardens, you must see it now. By next year it will have been a documentary, a musical, and a motion picture. Personally, I can't wait for the video game.

A Wedding I'd Love to Go To

Apparently this summer, my Not Lazy Assistant is standing in as the maid of honor in her brother's wedding. She's spent about thirty minutes so far this morning telling all the crazy details of the events leading up to the wedding. We laughed so hard I thought I was going to go into convulsions. All I can say is that I hope she's kidding - can these people and their planned nuptials be for real? After NLA got done talking about this, I was convinced she was making it all up. It sounds like the wedding that would have been planned by Roger and Virginia in Like Normal People. God, I loved that movie. Hearing Virginia proclaim, "I Love you WahJah!" always brought a smile to my face.

NLA gave me a few seminal background facts about the Bride and Groom which I think put everything in context. First, one of B and G's favorite meals is Velveeta Shells n' Cheese. In fact, they eat it several times a week. As far as decorating goes, B plans to paint the entire house, inside and out, in various shades of purple and pink. On the romance department, when G would mow the family lawn, he would push the mower with one hand while holding B's hand with the other. B would then walk back and forth across the lawn with G and read a book at the same time. I can't really picture how completely idiotic that sounds.

NLA is not the original choice as maid of honor though. She's merely a stand-in as it appears the original maid of honor (OMH) stopped talking to B after B refused to order OMH a size 8 dress for her size 14 frame. B has offered to pay for NLA's dress though, as B plans to make it part of her wardrobe after the wedding. As you may have guessed, B loves the color purple, so the purple bridesmaid's dress will be a welcome addition. The dress is not only purple, but it is printed with white polka dots. Once she gets the dress, I promise to post a picture.

B's idea for a bachelorette party consists of going to a baseball game and then getting a hotel room so that they can go swimming in the hotel pool. That's about the gist of it. Doesn't that sounds like a fantastic way to spend your last few days of singlehood? It sounds more like a thirteen year old's birthday party to me. NLA suggested dinner so B decided on Grandma's, a glorified TGIFs. I'm not sure if Grandma's is in addition to the baseball game and swimming as that might be too much excitement for this group.

Then, there is the tie-dying component to the party. It seems that B wants all the bridesmaids to wear jeans and tie-dyed t-shirts to the rehearsal dinner. This sure is shaping up to be a classy event. I wonder if she's having the food dyed purple to match the theme?

There will be a final gathering in which the bridesmaids will help make guests' gifts for the table. B has settled on hand-painted matchbox cars for each guest. Is there a more perfect way to say thank you for sharing our day than with a child's toy? Apparently, the bridesmaids will paint the cars with B and G's names and date. How they plan to fit all of that on a matchbox Hot Wheels car is beyond me. Just imagine if they served Velveeta shells n' cheese at the reception. It's a distinct possibility.

Once I get some pictures, I'll be sure to post them. It promises to be a spectacular affair.

Nothing to Fear but Ventriloquist Dummies

Automatonophobia: the fear of ventriloquist dummies, animatronic creatures, and wax statues. First, animatronic creatures and wax statues invoke nary a rumbling of dread within me. In fact, a few years ago I happily went through Las Vegas's version of Madame Toussaud's Wax Museum at the Venetian and found it a pleasant experience. I'd say the closest I've ever come to being scared of wax statues was watching the remake of "House of Wax" but I think that fear rested squarely on the trashy shoulders of Paris Hilton. After seeing her act, everything seems just a little more frightening.

I'm not afraid of clowns (unless it's John Wayne Gacy), puppets (I love the Muppets, Lambchop, Franklin, and Avenue Q) or dolls (unless it's a maniacal Raggedy Anne). The thing that strikes terror in my heart is Ventriloquist Dummies. I guess I'm only a quasi-Automatonophobe. God, can't I ever commit to anything 100%?

V.D.'s always seem so independent and they have such alarming verbal freedom. They just appear so damned independent. They are often portrayed as violent, racist, vengeful, and angry creatures, which they are. It's hard to describe exactly how creepy it is when the V.D. swivels its head around to look at you or its little hinged jaw flaps up and down.

I can sit through Chainsaws, Saws, Amityvilles, and Elm Streets easily. Put "Magic" or "Knock on Wood" on the television and I'm hiding behind a pillow hoping I don't pee my pants. Even such innocuous fare as "Cradle Will Rock" becomes a terrifying experience by the introduction of a V.D. "Sound of Music" is lovely except for the puppet show (I know they are puppets but they look like V.D.s on strings (and it's such a lovely song)). High on the hill screamed a lonely goatherd ...

One of the most terrifying moments in television history occurred on "Seinfeld." In the Kenny Rogers' Roasters episode, Jerry and Kramer have to switch apartments and Jerry is terrified of Kramer's V.D., named Mr. Marbles. At the end of the episode, Jerry hears a noise and sees a tiny shadow running through the halls. I dare Wes Craven to come up with anything scarier than that.

Even though I own all seven seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and watch it with fanatical devotion, I have never watched the episode in season one which involves the V.D. Sorry SMG, I just can't do it. You're not even safe from commercials. Remember the Miller Lite commercial where the hitchhiker gets picked up by the trucker and the V.D. just screams "Eeeeeeeeeeee." That was the best 35 second horror movie I have ever seen. It gave me nightmares. It also made me stop hitchhiking. Or the Sprite commercial with the V.D. doing a show before an ENTIRE AUDIENCE of V.D.s. It gave me nightmares and I switched to Sierra Mist.

Just last night, I was watching something on television when some commercial came on and the BF Thimm Symmz said "Don't look." Apparently, there is a new V.D. commercial out there. Then, there was a promo for some show involving a carnival and a prophetic lady V.D. You rarely see lady V.D.s so it was even more terrifying than usual.

I hope writing this doesn't give me nightmares. I once had a nightmare where I fell into a room that was filled with V.D.s and as I struggled, their little wooden arms and legs flailed about until I slowly sunk to the bottom. I actually threw up after that dream.

Why can't I be afraid of flying like normal people?

Youth is Wasted on the Stupid

Is it possible to just wake up one day and realize that you are old? Having reached my "late 30s" with 40 poking its head around the corner and glowering at me, I guess its really no wonder I've been thinking about this lately. But, as this past week went by, several things happened which made me think, "Wow, I'm getting old."

First, a co-worker asked if my 20th high school reunion was this year. It turns out that it was hers and since we're relatively the same age, she thought my reunion would be this year too. No, my 20th year high school reunion is next year. Has it been 20 years already? It seems like just yesterday I was arguing with Mr. White over the fact that a conjunction used to join two independent clauses requires a comma. Oh, to be 17 and debating grammar with adults again. It also reminded me that Linda Stone's baby, which she had in 1986, could quite possibly be in college now ... or *gasp* even have children of her own. Could it be possible that my high school friends could be grandparents? I think I'm going to throw up.

Next, I get an email from a college friend about our 15 year college reunion this year. Has it been 15 years already? It seems like just yesterday that I had to listen to Stickman make the argument that Tiffany was better than Debbie Gibson. Although this issue seemed relevant 19 years ago, oddly, this same debate continued unabated last summer at our friends' wedding. Stickman remains steadfast in his love for Tiffany although she hasn't done much for years. Can Tiffany boast about Broadway and Skating with Celebrities? I thought not. Wait, maybe that just supports his point.

Then, I remember to call my friend in New Mexico to wish her a happy 40th birthday. That one's pretty self-explanatory. As an aside, she shares my passion for tacky postcards, American Idol, the World Series, and demonstrates a fanatical devotion to all things Alpine Alpa: Ohio's Showplace of Cheese Making. Please, check it out.

Finally, earlier in the week a group of us were discussing out first concert. Mine, sadly, was Juice Newton. I can't really explain it now but I think it involved free tickets or something. It was the 80s, the Zeitgeist demanded Juice Newton concerts. Fast forward to last evening. I'm having a cocktail at a local watering hole and what should start playing but the video for "Playing with the Queen of Hearts." I mentioned this to the barely 21 year old boyfriend of a friend that I went to the Juice Newton concert (always a real conversation starter).

"Who?"

"Juice Newton, she's singing this song. You probably weren't even born yet," I joked.

"What year did you see her?"

"1984."

"What time of year?"

"Summer."

"No, I wasn't born yet."

That whole exchange was like a punch in the stomach. How could I be in a bar talking to someone who wasn't even born when I went to my first concert? I quickly finished my drink and called for another. It's probably not all that bad. W. Somerset Maugham summed it us best. "It is an illusion that youth is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it." Now if only I could find my glasses ...

You Know It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp

So many Oscar related thoughts. I think first, I should tell everyone that I correctly chose 18 out of the 24 Oscar categories and totally dominated in the Oscar pool. Somehow, in my mind, that is the paramount event from last evening. It helps that I managed to see all the best picture nominees (save Munich) and all the acting performances. Thus, I've seen a lot of movies. I also realized why I've never sat through an adaptation of Pride & Prejudice before.

Achievement in Music Written for Motion Pictures (Best Song): Sadly, Miss Dolly is now 0 for 2. I thought her Travelin' Thru was enchanting and given the overwrought theatrics of the other nominated songs, just plain simple and lovely. In hindsight, though, I think she should have had a giant gospel choir of transgendered folks behind her, swaying and clapping. In the Deep had its burning car and dazed zombies and It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp had its requisite pimps, afros, and hos, so why couldn't Dolly have some trans-folk? Oh, and by the way, Dolly, please stop with the crazy plastic surgery, you look absolutely freakish. We get it, you're tiny with huge melons. You look like what a puppet of yourself would have looked like had you been in Team America: World Police. Fuck yeah!

I also found it courageous and deeply spiritual that Three 6 Mafia won best song and finally had an opportunity to thank God. God is indeed powerful. Whenever I think of God, it almost always brings to mind "shit," "fuck," "niggaz," and "bitches" and then I immediately want to work those words into a song. Praise Jesus. On a Hustle & Flow related note, I thought is was great that Taraji Henson sang with Three 6 Mafia in her fabulous Marilyn Monroe dress. Taraji Henson was the humanity of that movie, her performance was wonderful.

Best Picture: I am thrilled that Crash won. I believe it was head and shoulders above Brokeback. Don't get me wrong, I loved Brokeback and thought Michelle Williams was stellar. Who knew that Jenn from the Creek had such acting chops? If you haven't seen Crash, please do. If you are remotely intelligent, you will also realize that although Brokeback is wonderful, Crash deserved the Oscar. Also compare Terrence Howard's performance from Crash with his turn in Hustle & Flow. That, my friends, is what acting is all about. Also lament the fact that Thandie Newton was overlooked by the Academy. Finally and amazingly, Sandra Bullock is wonderful in Crash. Any material that allows someone to utter the statement "Sandra Bullock is wonderful" must be great stuff indeed. I mean, even Keanu Reeves had the good sense to stay away from Speed 2.

Just so you know, I hate Annie Proulx. I hated The Shipping News both as a crappy book and then as a crappy adaptation of a crappy book. I'm glad they never showed her face during the telecast. I have no idea what she looks like, which for her, is a good thing. If I ever see her I would probably punch her in the face twice. Once for creating The Shipping News and then once again so that she could pass it on to Kevin Spacey for his horrible performance in The Shipping News (and K-Pax). So if you are reading this E. Annie, watch out. In fact, whenever I visit my friends the Greeth and Dr. A in Albuquerque, I always pull The Shipping News out of the bookcase and turn it spine in so that I don't have to look at it.

Best Actress: I know I gave Reese some guff earlier on. I do think she was wonderful in Walk the Line. The only problem with her singing though is that she sang much better than June Carter ever sang. Sadly, this win probably means that we'll never see Legally Blonde 3: the Heart of Blondeness, but then again, maybe not, Jamie Foxx did give us that Stealth movie. And, Marisa Tomei gave us ... wait, did she ever even work again?

Finally, please tell me that giant bows on the shoulder are not making a comeback. Charlize Theron, you should be ashamed of yourself. I understand that you shill for Dior and all but that dress was just cruel, to you, to me, to humanity. I think Dior must be mad at you or something. Naomi Watts, I'm glad you managed to pull your Givenchy dress-mess out of the paper shredder in time to present an award. Plus, that color completely washed you out. Your dress was even uglier than that band-aid colored dress Jennifer Connelly wore a few years back.

I'll leave you this question: what was Gary Busey doing at the Oscars?

Write or Wrong

I have finally returned home today from what seemed like an over extended Midwest Litigation Tour. The glories of Green Bay, Wisconsin and Mount Pleasant, Michigan grow weary and thin in just about fifteen minutes. Just so you know, Mount Pleasant is neither mountainous nor pleasant.

Since I haven't posted in a while I can only imagine that someone somewhere is mocking my blog because I started it strong and seem to have abandoned it. I mean, I would do that to someone else ... Anyway, here's what I've been thinking about ...

On a whim, I bought my niece an iTunes gift card primarily because I was waiting on a long line at Target, I was in somewhat of a decent and caring mood, and a complete impulse shopper. How I made it all the way to the check-out line at Target and still remained in a good mood escapes me. I mean, come on people, strollers are not weapons. I get home and stuff the gift card in an envelope with a lovely note and stick it in the mail. Apparently, as I learned from my sister, my niece did get the gift card. Somehow, however, she never saw fit to actually acknowledge the gift. Not a quick call, a thank you note, or even an e-mail. Nothing.

What happened to the civility of the "Thank You" note? Now I understand that it was just a $15 gift card but some sort of gratitude would be nice. I have two personal instances where I never even received a thank you note from wedding gifts. Can you imagine? At my passive-aggressive best, on one occasion, I sent a note to the Bride which read, "I hope you and Groom are enjoying your Lennox barware. You did get it, right? If not, let me know." In the other instance, by the time arrived within which to have received a thank you note, the couple had already separated. This is actually okay on two levels: first, the couple was horribly mismatched; second, knowing this, I purposely went thrifty on the gift.

Why is it so hard for people to write a simple thank you note? Next time you receive a gift, take a few minutes and write a thank you note. The giver will be delighted and think that you're a thoughtful person. You probably aren't a thoughtful person but hey, it's all about perception.