Kitty does hate the leash, but we love the kitty.

Courtesy of the uber talented, patient and multifaceted, Em Sinick.

Baby hears for the first time: Guaranteed to make you smile

My "Dennis Hopper Moment" & Remembering Hopper on film

I'm a huge Hopper fan. Always was.

I had the dubious distinction once of actually telling him this in an elevator
in Century City, along with the quirky fact that he and I actually
shared the same landlady, once.

I told him where we were living and who my landlady (and geriatric GF)
was and how she still wore this crazy wig (backwards). But, most of all I
told him how polite she said Hopper was about taking her for rides up and
down Appian Way on the back of his bike.  

This was one cool landlady.  She was so great I'm digressing
from a Hopper story to tell you how cool this landlady was.

She turned down Marilyn Monroe to live in her carriage house
(which my BF and I were at the time holed up in)
because my landlady knew she'd be "bad news."

(Anyhow, we were talking about Hopper,
even though this is my Hopper moment.)

Hopper's response? "Holy shit, is she still ALIVE?"

"Yep," I concurred warmly.  

(I was having a "Hopper moment!" How cool was that?)

His wife (at least, I think it was his wife) laughed.  

He looked kind of scared and exited at his floor looking bewildered.

But, for me, it was one of those great LA moments, and at the time
it made my shitty, insignificant life working at a temporary job
at the ONLY sky scraper in that end of LA actually, that day, worthwhile.

But, come on! Who hasn't loved how bizarre and over the top, yet,
totally, completely authentic Dennis Hopper always was?

Would contemporary cinema ever have been the same without him?

Appreciating a just few of many, many fantastic, iconoclastic Hopper moments:

Everything you've learned in life in just five words. -- Go!

This will be my quickest blog post, ever.

Everything you've learned in life in just five words.

Oldest daughter:

Photoshop can fix almost everything

Vampires are just really sparkly

I will always be great

When Hair Gets Greasy Wash

Deodorant Really Does Dry White

Arm Farts Are Really Funny

Youngest daughter:

Never Give Up In Life

Me:

Live Give Love Laugh Peace
Always choose love over snark.

Race To Nowhere trailer: Documentary about pressures kids face today.

Pressure. Overwork. Test scores. Stress related illness.
Lack of sleep. Suicide rates.


-- Just what do we consider "successful" children to be, anyway?


Time for people to comprehend all that is lost when don't make
our children and their emotional health a top priority in our society.

Looking forward to seeing more than just the trailer to this timely film.




Here's what the film's website, ReelLinkFilms, says about the documentary:

"Director Vicki Abeles turns the personal political by igniting a national conversation in this groundbreaking documentary about the pressures American schoolchildren and their teachers face moving into the 21st century

What started as a private family matter widened into a cogent examination of systemic pressures faced by youth and teachers today an increased focused on test scores, a shrinking global economy and increasingly unrealistic expectations of parents, universities, school districts and society at large. The demands have crushing, widespread consequences. Cheating has become commonplace, stress-related illness, depression and burnout are rampant, and students arrive at college and the workplace unprepared and uninspired.

Featuring the heartbreaking stories of young people who have been pushed to the brink, parents who are trying to do whats best for their kids, and educators who are burned out and worried students arent developing the skills needed for the global economy, Race to Nowhere points to the silent epidemic running rampant in our schools.

Race to Nowhere is a call to families, educators, experts and policy makers to examine current assumptions on how to best prepare the youth of America to become the healthy, bright, contributing and leading citizens of the next century."

Dog Lover Clip and the Tale of How We Got "Buddy"

If you are a dog-lover, then you will "get" this video, 

even if it means patiently waiting till the end it for it's message.

Okay, I was so busy today that I was convinced I had no time for blogging.

Then I saw this clip online and I suddenly knew I had to post something about it right away.  It's so close to our own experience with "Buddy" that I just had to write about it.

The truth is, what happens in the above clip is almost exactly what happened to me in my own life about three years ago.

The Tale of How We Got Buddy.


One day, while dropping my kids off at school I noticed a dog rushing frantically through busy traffic. He was shivering, and kind of limping and I had no idea who's dog he was.  Or if he was sick or injured, or what this animal's story was.  I was just driving by.  I had kids to drop off.  This was not the day I planned.


It was about 5 minutes before the elementary school bell was going to ring, and if you have kids, then you know what that means. It means: Do not dither, because you don't want your kid to have to walk up the front desk with a tardy pass.


So -- There was this dog.  Running in the road.  Under the wheels of pick up trucks.  The girls in the backseat screamed for me to look out...I pulled the van over.


 The dog was going around doing this "walking-running" thing where they're not really going anywhere, but they don't want to let on that. But, he was clearly really shaken. I jumped out the van to coax it closer so it wouldn't get hit by all the cars whizzing by.


I put my hands out.  Low.  Not threatening.   I said, "Hey, there. Come here."


The dog was pretending to be very involved in sniffing something in a circle on the curb while eyeing me.  He was shaking.  His back leg seemed injured.   He was running on adrenyline.  I kept my voice low, I didn't want him bolting under the truck wheels again, like we'd just watched him do so moments before.  People were slowing down and saying they were worried about him, too, but...funny thing, they kept driving.   I stayed.   Time was running out.


The dog was still there.   Really intent on sniffing something and eyeing me very carefully.


Then, all of a sudden, the dog just bolted by me and jumped into the front seat of my van and hunkered down.  He pressed his face into the seat back and became as "beige" as you've ever seen a pet try to be.  It was as if he were saying,  "Look, lady.  Don't ask. Just go with this. Take home. I'm yours."


And my girls still in the backseat were, naturally, overjoyed the dog got in the car.  But, I was worried and shocked. I didn't know a thing about this stupid dog. Maybe it's crazy.  Or sick, mean, or dangerous.  What did I know?


But, since the whole thing happened while I was still on the school property I easily got the kids to class, somehow, and then took the dog by the collar around the busy school grounds.


I kept asking if this was anyone's dog.


Apparently, it wasn't.


The school day was under way. All the mommy vans had vanished.


I had a black dog with a generic collar in my hands.


I did the unthinkable.


I let him get back in my van, where he apparently was very grateful to go, and I took him home.


I made a "Found" flier with his photo and all the correct info.

FOUND!

BLACK LAB   LABRADOR RETRIEVER

NO TAG/COLLAR

FOUND EARLY  8/21/06

ON FOSTER DRIVE NEAR W…. SCHOOL

IN ROSSMOOR

FOR MORE INFO

PLEASE CONTACT:

LARSEN: 714-666-7777

THIS DOG MISSES HIS OWNER

I made 50 copies of this flier (yes, 50, I should know, I paid for them.) and staple gunned them to every tree and telephone pole in the entire neighborhood.


I dropped off fliers at all the local animal shelters. Even ran an ad in a national pet finding service.


I ran ads in the newspapers.


But, all this time, the big, black dog was in our backyard.  And, within one day, our house.   It reminded my husband of "his childhood dog."  My kids begged me to keep it.  "We'll take care of it, Mommy!   Please???  Mom, please?????"


I was dubious.   No.   I was DUBIOUS.  Quite.   Our family has allergy issues.   Our personality is far more "cat person" than, "dog people." But, due to my daughters huge cat allergy, we'd resigned ourselves to goldfish.    Now, the goldfish were HUGE.  (Another story).


"I feed the huge freakin' goldfish.  I change their poopy water.   Don't even go there with me about a dog, now"  I'm thinking.


I'm thinking.   They're begging.   The dog isn't saying anything.   He's busy being, very, very, very good.  So, good.  Good as gold.  Heartbreakingly good.


The fliers remained up.


I could tell he was about two years old, very well behaved and had manners.


But, what he lacked was a name.


I knew he had to have a name, so I did what every really smart dog owner does these days, I turned to Google to find out what his name was.


I had to have a name for him fast, because if anything happened I needed to make sure he'd be able to respond to me.


I did a Google search: "Top 10 names for big black dogs."


Congo, Kenya
Midnight,
Ink, Inky
Kona (coffee)
Shadow
Voodoo
Buster
Sable
Shady
Cinder
Buddy


I started at the top of the list:


"Midnight?" No reaction. Dog lays down head on paws and eyes are watching my face. Dog wants to understand what I'm saying, but doesn't, yet.


"Kona?


Nope.


"Blackie?"


Dog sighs.  We both thank God, that wasn't his name.


"Buster?


Eyes flicker back to mine, but head is still resting on big front paws. He's sweetly confused, but hoping not to piss me off. I'm food.


"Buddy?"




-- BOING!


He leapt up! Sprang to attention. Ears cocked forward. Eyes wide open.


"Buddy???" I repeated. He jumped toward my hands to nuzzle them.


I tried to trick him by rattling off all sorts of names in a long stream of consciousness to see if he responded to any other sounding names. Nothing.


Then, I keep asking, "Is your name Mcdonalds?  Sam?  French fries?  Door knob? Utah?  Mom?  Dad? Steak?  Parker?  Shadow?  Is it...Buddy?"


YES! Jumps up. Happy dance. Dog stands up and is alert and ready to do whatever it is that apparently I've suddenly asked of him. He responds so rapidly to this name, I know it has to be the name.


I tell my girls, "If you ever need to know anything, the magic Google will tell you. It's just told us what this dog's name is."


"So, your name is Buddy." I tried to get used to this. I'd hoped he would be something a bit more creative, but, clearly, this dog's name was SO "Buddy" that it couldn't possibly anything else.


I waited to get a phone call from a flier. I frequented the shelters for "Lost dog" fliers there. Nothing. Nada.

Days ticked into weeks. On Week two we take him in to the vet. Find out he's very well kept, healthy, well behaved. Not chipped.


We got him microchipped. We got him shots.


It's been about three years since Buddy got into my van.


Buddy's stayed here the whole time.







I never thought I'd be a dog person, but turns out, I am. At least with this dog.


We love Buddy and sometimes I am still a bit fed up to be his only walker/feeder.  But, when I think of what he's given us all, I am filled with love and gratitude that he somehow knew my van's car seat would be "home" for him, forever.


And that's the story of how we got "Buddy."

We all need a daily "Jessica" moment

Any Clip Containing The Words "Carrie Fisher Roasts..." Will End Up On My Blog

God, I love Fisher.  


Watch her rip with delight and abandon into the one and only
George Lucas at the AFI Life Acheivement Awards.

So, if you scan it, they can read it? Great.

If you've ever made a copy of something, guess what? 

That means someone else can read that now.

Taxes.  Bills.   Anything.

This should totally freak out my mom who won't even go on facebook, but it will make my Nigerian scam artist BF really happy.


Watch CBS News Videos Online

"My Time" with Minus The Bear

Okay, so I know I haven't been into my usual blogging mojo lately, which has been bothering me too, but, hey, life is messy and the reality is, you just can't blog all the time.

Some people do. They call it Twitter. (No offense to the Wil Wheatons of the universe, you know we love you.) but, anyway -- C'est pas Moi tous les temp.
(Translated that means, "I get lazy, too.")

Anyway, while driving around yesterday listening to KCRW I happened upon a live broadcast with a new band called Minus The Bear.

Yeah, so?

Well, right, "so."

Sometimes, as much as I adore KCRW, those late morning live sessions can occasionally get pretty, pretty monochromatic...and become a great time to fill up the gas tank, but, then they played "My Time" from their new album, "Omni" and, let's just say -- something about it grabbed me.

They were also a great live interview, too. Which, believe me isn't always the case. They're cool and funny and I like them. Check out a link to KCRW's streaming Minus The Bear and Omni here:

Made a mental note: "Blog about these guys soon."
But, didn't. My bad. Life is messy.

And, turns out: I even forgot where I put that mental note.

So, then, today, wondering what will drop into my lap that would be worthwhile enough to take time out to post something and there's that song again.

It was as if the radio on my dashboard just spit out yesterday's little yellow post it note for me as clean and effectively as a new Steve Jobs gadget.

And, as luck would have it, I now discover there's also a cool, colorful video of "My Time," as well.

Nice new band and, better yet, will appeal to everyone in your household, including all those "Yo Gabba Gabba!" fans.




Want to "own them?" And, let's face it, don't we all want to own someone?

BUY OMNI HERE.

Oh, and you're a lyric freak, as I am, here are the lyrics, too.

Enjoy.

1. My Time

Turn off the lights,
touch me in the dark,
fade into the feeling,
whisper in my ear
What you want, what you need.
Tell me my name,
tell me my name again
Just yell out my name, baby.

I got your nights, I got your days
I got you on my time

You taste like sweet wine
and we are magnified
The sweat rolls down your thigh,
making moves so blind
It’s what you want, it’s what you need–
I’m just the same, baby

I got your nights, I got your days
I got you on my time

And you’re holding on to me like an old love
that you know every inch of.
when I feel you start to go
I’ll take it slow
until your body’s saying more

I got your nights, I got your days
I got you on my time
You’re gonna be on my time

This is going to make you cry

Just more proof that love, is love, is love, is love --

Conservationist Damian Aspinall searched for a gorilla named Kwibi he bonded with five years ago during a program to re-introduce animals back into the wild.




My question is, how could this guy EVER go back home, again???

British stars in need of a shave and a haircut

Yesterday I posted a link to let you know that Jeremy Irons is "mad as hell" and he's not going brush his teeth until we feed the homeless.

And so, in a roundabout follow up to this I thought I'd post a somewhat related story:

Apparently during a recent run of "Waiting for Godot," Ian McKellen was relaxing outside the theater when a good samaritan mistook him for one of the homeless.

Clearly Sir Ian and Mr. Irons could use being cast as "clean people" someday soon.

Photos: Ian McKellen Mistaken for a Homeless Man | WorstPreviews.com

Bjork convert

Hang on, a sec.

I have an apology to make, to anyone who ever tried to tell me I'd like Bjork, but I refused to listen.

They were right.  I was a jerk.   She's inspired and otherworldly and I adore her.

I am listening now.  And, she's fantastic.



Is she a little bit crazy? Uh, yeah, maybe. Probably.
But, frankly, so am I. So, no wonder I get her.

Why did I let that swan costume keep me from discovering her?

I have so much time to make up for. Isn't that the best, though?
Knowing there's so much left to discover?





Follow up: I keep playing this video for my daughters and tell them that this is freedom. To just express yourself in whatever way you want to and not care if people get it, or not. To just share the feeling inside whatever way feels most suited to that feeling - and it won't matter a damn if people understand, because if it's from the heart and making sense to you it will translate to any language there is.

They're in the bathroom right now singing "Big Time Sensuality." That may freak out some parents, but not me.

Jeremy Irons is mad as hell and he's not going to take it anymore!

Look, I love Jeremy Irons.  
Love him. Always have. I love all his tortured soul roles.
Hell, I used to be a card-carrying Jeremy Irons freak.

You know the type:
Saw Brideshead Revisited,  The French Lieutenant's Woman, and Dead Ringers 
possibly twelve times. Each.

Hey, I still own a CD him in a recording of Tom Stoppard's The Real Thing,
which blows me away every time I hear it. 

Irons is passionate and fabulous, so naturally
I was interested to see what he was all fired up about up these days --

Well, it turns out he's fucking mad as hell!  
Great! -- I get that. Me, too!

He's right -- Hunger does stink.
But, so does smoker's teeth.

Mommy, can I be Beyonce when I grow up?

Uh, no.  Not this year.

Kid, there's dancing.  And there's dancing.

And if the daddies are getting ready to stuff dollars in your garter belt, then that's the wrong kind of dancing.

When it's time to go to college, talk to me then.

Here we go with one more political freak out about "socialism"...again.

I'm seeing more of this brewing, festering hate lately, and I just can't get my brain around it all.

The pick up trucks on the freeway with their proud "teabagger" stickers.

Occasional social gatherings where I over here mutterences like, "the next time it'll be Mitt's turn." or some other bizarre garbage.  I mean, I live in Orange County, so occasionally even when I try to help it, this does occur.

But, the truth is, I just don't get the beef.   Ever heard of Medicare?  That's government healthcare which alot of them wouldn't be willing to give up.  Why is logic such a stretch for these people?

Check out this video below where this guy goes bat-shit ballistic over his apparent resistance to "socialism."

What is most scary is that people seem hellbent on hate, regardless of what that means.  Some people just want a huge drama and hate-fest whether or not it's logical.

The hate addiction is what scares me the most about this.