Monthly Archives: February 2011

Necessary Inventions

Here’s something I wish someone would invent for the masses (namely, me). The Drive-By Back Window Message Board.

You could turn it on at the driver’s console and give it a speech-to-text command. Whatever you say would be posted on your back window as you pass the person in front of you. You know the one: the guy who can only do one thing at a time, like talk to the person next to him or talk on the phone; things that preclude one from watching the speedometer. Things that only happen when you’re 15 minutes behind schedule getting to work, and there are yellow lines for miles at a time.

I would like to invent this if someone hasn’t beaten me to it. It needs to be something like this, only faster and more visible. And voice activated. And cute. And available in hot pink text.

Any venture capitalists reading this, please email me.

So, what would you have someone dream up? It could be a let’s-make-the-world-a-happier-place-based idea, or simply a desperate wish along the lines of we can send a man to the moon, but…

Ready, steady, go.

Man, artists can be depressing.

[Ask me how I know this.]

I took two opportunities this weekend to watch films that languished for awhile in my Netflix instant queue. While I recommend them both to you this day, I won’t review them, because, well, it’s too depressing.

Both movies dealt with the lives of artists: one a painter, the other a stonemason. Not sure why I felt the need to bathe myself in four hours of doubt, misery, horror, neglect, disillusionment, abuse, self-hatred and utter tragedy before and after spending such fun hours with my grandsons, but there you have it. Still, I must recommend both films to you, if for no other reason than their ability to transfer complete and abysmal woe to the screen in a way that makes one think, “I have never really known despair.”

In my case, the reward for watching these films is the acting of Ed Harris (Pollock) and Kate Winslet (Jude). I was keen to see Jude because of my interest in movies based on classic literature; in this case, Thomas Hardy’s last novel, Jude the Obscure. While the 1996 film was a bit fleshy (in the nekkidness sense) for my taste, Winslet’s performance as Sue Bridehead, a young, vivacious woman who descends slowly into grief, sorrow and madness, was captivating. Christopher Eccleston was serviceable as Jude, but I am embarrassed to say I couldn’t get past his rather unlovely face. Shallow, I know. The story contained a horrifying scene that I can’t shake, even after coffee and breakfast this morning, and thinking about rehearsals and general school madness. For good or ill, it made the movie unforgettable.

Speaking of madness…my favorite of the two films was Pollock. You simply must watch it. Ed Harris was brilliant as the completely tortured American painter Jackson Pollock (1912 – 1956). One wonders how such a talented individual can bring down on himself so much sadness and tragedy. Seems the good ones always do, ja?

Aaaaaand now I’m out of time, or else I’d write more about Pollock. It’s Monday, alas, and time to hit the road. Truth be told, I’d rather stay home and plow through the next 13 movies in the instant queue…

FO

All right, unbelievers.

I made them myself, I swear!

Yesterday was our faculty potluck lunch at the high school, where everyone brings in goodies to share. After rehearsal Thursday night, I baked up 28 of my Devil’s Food Cake Truffles and took them in Friday morning. After picking up my serving dish at the end of the day (there were two truffles left, yay for the Thriller), I checked my mailbox in the office and made my way down the hall. Several teachers were talking near their classroom doors, and one called out to me that I’d “won the prize” for the snazziest dessert of the day. Then she told me there was some discussion over the lunch table as to the “homemade” authenticity of my truffles. Whoa! I was simultaneously flattered and flummoxed. Did they really think I’d buy pastries and try to pass them off as my own? After another colleague walked by and teased, “Nice fakejob, Jax,” I thought “Hmmmm…mebbe so.”

I told the Thriller it was like trying to convince the doctors at the asylum that I really, honestly, truly wasn’t crazy. Hilarious. So as I drove home, an idea popped into my nut. “Why not go foodie blogger for a day?” Since I’d had two teachers ask me for the recipe, I figured it might kill two birds by posting photographs of me actually making the things. So, without further delay…

Devil’s Food Cake Truffles

You will need:

Bake the cake in a 9 x 13 pan according to directions on the box. If you’re making the icing/filling from scratch, mix together the following:

  • 8 oz. cream cheese, softened
  • 5 T. butter, softened
  • 2 t. vanilla extract
  • Mix above ingredients, then stir in 2 to 3 cups sifted confectioner’s sugar (I eyeball it)

Otherwise, you can buy a 16-oz. plastic container of ready-made whipped cream cheese frosting.

Now the fun part…

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See you guys? My name was even on one of the pans. Would I ever cheat?

About this, I mean?

:P

My take on the SSB

Several people have asked me what I thought about Christina Aguilera’s interesting treatment of the national anthem at the Super Bowl. Here’s the lowdown, but before I get into it:

I see no problem with Christina having muffed a lyric. It happens to the best of singers. Experienced stage actors forget a line once in awhile, even after performing the same scene hundreds of times. Neuron misfire is not the issue here. OK, my take:

  1. It is a difficult song to sing. My own personal feelings aside (oh all right..I think “America, the Beautiful” should be our national anthem*), the tune is a set-up to any solo singer. I don’t know what John Stafford Smith was thinking when he wrote the melody 200+ years ago; he may have wanted to impress the members of the Anacreontic Society, a good-ol’-boy club of amateur musicians in London who gathered together regularly to talk about wine, women and song. And wine. *hic* Truth is, singing a song that spans an octave plus a perfect 5th is no easy feat, regardless of one’s sobriety level.
  2. Too many singers try to sexify it. It’s hideous. And while I’m proud to have been born and raised in the USA, totally missing the point on something like this is so, so American. Now don’t get me wrong: I’m all for putting a little extra style or personal stamp on the song when performing it, but anyone with marginal sense can listen to what happened last Sunday and think, “Yipes, she is trying way too hard.” The melody is lost, right along with the message. And Christina, please. Open your eyes once in awhile. It’s annoying, and truthfully, I refuse to believe you were that “caught up” in the intensely passionate and meaningful text. In fact, I’d be interested to know how many Americans could correctly paraphrase the first verse of the poem to begin with. Wagers?
  3. We don’t need a “dumbed down” national anthem, as some have suggested. Adopting a national song with a range inside an octave isn’t the answer. Rather, since we seem to be stuck with “The Star Spangled Banner,” the answer is that we need singers who take the song seriously enough to train on it before performing it. Ours is not the only complicated national anthem. Have you heard Italy’s? I had to learn it back in 1976 when I toured Europe with an American choir and orchestra. It was great fun — especially the middle section. Yee haw. However, you don’t hear Italian pop singers trying to pimp it out. It’s done (at least every time I’ve heard it) with authentic  — as opposed to hand-in-the-air, eyes-closed, tragic hipness — reverence and great pride.

* I like “America, the Beautiful” as a national anthem because it actually describes, well…how beautiful America is. What vistas could instill more pride in where we live than spacious skies, amber waves of grain, and purple mountain majesties? What prayer is more simple and fervent than the entreaty that God bless the country with His grace, and reward its good deeds with a spirit of national brotherhood? Granted, despite Francis Scott Key’s doubts on the matter (what other national anthem ends in a question?), Fort McHenry stood, and a large American flag was raised in victory. Three hundred-some British soldiers died in the battle, while only four were lost on the American side. Cool, yes? I suppose so. Still, the War of 1812 was steeped in greed on both sides — hardly a testament to ardent love of country. Rather, it was the love of other people’s countries (as in, “Hey, we want Canada; let’s go steal it!”) that largely characterized the conflict. Feh.

I’d rather our national song be about nice things. But that’s just me, wanting to feel all the good feelings. That would be unlike the feelings brought about by wind chills of -18. I like winter, but enough already.

FO

Oh, my sides.

Actually, just my right side. I knew yesterday’s little slip-up would cost me today. And what’s this on the rehearsal schedule? Tap rehearsal till 8:30 p.m.?

Hahahahawesomeness.

Well, look at the bright side, anyway. At least tomorrow morning, both sides will be stiff and sore.

I’m not getting too old for this I’m not getting too old for this I’m not getting too old for this I’m n…