Let's see, I've got two Oprah shows stored up on my DVR, I can either watch the show about the cheating husbands who all agree that 99.9% of all men cheat, or I could watch the show about compulsive hoarding, with the woman who has eighty-one cats and six dogs. I hope somewhere out there someone is laughing along with me at the irony in this.
My Scotty got rear ended today at the exact same spot where a little later in the day a woman flipped me off and nearly hit us when I tried to maneuver into traffic. There are a few of these places around here, quite a few. It amazes me that we all know where they are, these hazardous places, but no one works out any kind of traffic solution to make them safer for people. I would love to know just how many accidents occur in this same spot where people try to merge on to Wilshire from the east bound 405 off ramp. Every single time we get off here, (and we get off here a lot), someone stops, holds up traffic, waits for enough cars to back up and honk, and then tries to muscle into the fast flowing traffic. There's really no winning in this spot, if you slow down to merge, people get pissed off and give you the finger, if you speed up to merge, people may hit you. It just seems so weird to me that Beau and I had narrowly avoided being hit by this speeding driver, (I spent a good ten minutes discussing the hazards of this particular locale with a curious Beau), when Scott had been hit in the exact same spot just a few hours before.
I got a lovely phone call from my yechiest, (read least favorite), neighbor today. I had to get up early again to take Beau and his tutor Mrs. Copeland, (one of the coolest women on the planet), to visit Beau's old pre-school Sunshine. Sunshine just happens to be my old pre-school too. We both have lots of happy memories of this sweet place, and Beau has been asking me to take him for a visit for a while now. Mrs. Copeland, who has taught and tutored lots of kids who went there, has never seen it, and seeing as people have to put their kids on a waiting list as soon as they're born and then pray, in order to have a sliver of a chance of getting them in to the school, she's been wanting to see it. The only way we could visit, without being too much in the way, was to get there early so that meant getting up earlier than my weary body would like me to.
We had a sweet time. Beau was happy to see his old school again. Mrs. Copeland was impressed with the garden, the mural art, the tiny tables and chairs, and of course the kids, and any time I go back I'm flooded with bittersweet memories. One of Beau's old teachers was so shocked when she saw us, particularly my giant son, that she started crying. Later we went outside to the beautiful garden and made child-like paintings just like the kids do with tempera paint.
Afterwards I dropped off Mrs. Copeland, then went to Verizon to get Beau a new cell phone, Elaine's pet store to buy replacement formula for the kittens, some more beds, and to play with Monkey, (the parrot who likes me because I'm not afraid of him and don't react when he bites me), then we had tea at a little bakery that I shouldn't like, because they're too expensive and not particularly friendly, stopped off at our regular pet store to say hello to Ron and tell him that our cat Jake has the same disease that he has, and finally I got Beau a sandwich at Subway. By the time I got home I was so tired all I could do was manage a few cat related things and crash, but Flora, our suddenly yappy Jack Russell Terrier, started barking wildly and before I could go back downstairs to get her the phone rang.
"Jacqui! this is Ted B."
"Oh. Frightened disappointed sigh. Hi Mr. B. I'm sorry. I hear her. I'll bring her right in."
"That dog is barking every time I go out in my yard and it's getting to be very annoying! I want you to do something about this right now!"
"Yes, of course I will. I wasn't aware she'd done this before. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well, see to it!" Click
How did we get to be the dog-owning-neighbor's that the B's hate, scapegoat, and fixate on? You know maybe if they had sex once in a while they'd be just a tad nicer and less persnickety and uptight about every little thing. I liked it better when Shadow, the dog who lives behind the grumpy ol' B's, was the constantly barking neighborhood scape-doggy. I haven't heard him in ages. I hope he's okay. Oh well, I guess I'd better get on with watching that show about animal hoarding, sigh.
There's no doubt about Nicole Kidman's extraordinary beauty, but am I the only one who loved Moulin Rouge but hates these new Chanel ads?
"I must have been the only person in the world who didn't know...who she was." "Drive." "It's beautiful up here." "Who are you?" "I'm a dahncer, (Fake giggle), I love to dance!" "It didn't matter. I knew who she was...to me." "I love you." You must be there tomorrow. "I don't care about tomorrow. No one can steal our dream. Goodbye." "And then...she was gone." The music swells. "Has she forgotten? I know...I will not. Her kiss, her smile...her PERFUME." Yep, I'm gonna run out right now and get me some o' dat French perfume.
Picture me bottle feeding the cutest little white fluffy-cats 'cause that's what I'll be doing when I finish writing this.
As usual I'm sorry I can't find the time to keep up with all of you, but please don't take me off of your friend's lists. I do care very much about all of you. Hang in there with me for a little while longer, will you?
Big loving hugs,
PS: I'm watching the ten year anniversary show of Inside the Actor's Studio on Bravo. It's basically a series of the best clips from the many wonderful actors who've been interviewed on the show over the past ten years. I know people make fun of James Lipton, Will Ferrell does a terrific imitation of him on Saturday Night Live, and there are a lot of actors who think the show jumped the shark a long time ago, but I just saw one of the finest performances of Shakespeare I've ever seen, by Ben Kingsley. And I wouldn't say this lightly, I've seen some of the best acting in the world, I think, including Shakespeare performed in London by the Royal Shakespeare Company, and I'm telling you, this was one of the single most natural and interesting performances I've ever seen.
James Lipton asked him, "How you as an actor strike a balance between the vocal poetic demands of a Shakespearean role, and the internal emotional truth that you bring to every character you play," and Ben Kingsley said, "Wow, I'll try," and then seamlessly answered the question with this famous Shakespearean monologue from Hamlet. He did such a fine job that I wish I could show it to any of you who love and appreciate acting the way I do.
I used to know this whole speech by heart;
"Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who for the most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise: I would have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it out-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it.
Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature: for any thing so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure. Now this overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure of the which one must in your allowance o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be players that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, that, neither having the accent of Christians nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
O, reform it altogether. And let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them; for there be of them that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too; though, in the mean time, some necessary question of the play be then to be considered: that's villanous, and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it."
Big Shakespeare loving hugs,