Plastic Box

Now I know who to beat over the head...

...with a hideous plastic clog!

Was looking at a document for work today and ran across this in a board of directors listing.

 

Shame on you, Mr. Duerden. Get in line behind the Uggs guy and whoever thought the poncho should make a comeback. I slap you!!

Won't you be?

So I got caught up in a conversation the other day on the subject of children's shows. Of course, everyone is loyal to the shows that happened to be on during their own childhoods (Howdy Doody vs Sesame Street vs Teletubbies, etc.). It was hard for us to develop an objective view on which shows were "the best" and why we would call them that. In retrospect, as adults, are we looking at educational value? Whereas when we were kids we would look at entertainment value or comedy? How we view our childhood TV-watching is unavoidably skewed. Nostalgia is the smoke that gets in your eyes.

But even across the generations that were present in the discussion, one show reigned supreme: Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, which aired on PBS from 1971 until 2001 (and there's currently a campaign to get PBS to put reruns back on the air after they removed it in 2008). We ALL watched it....given, there was no internet or supreme cable packages back then. I remember watching it on channel "U" on my parents' little TV.

There was something about Fred Rogers, though, wasn't there? Such simplicity and gentleness. The episodes all seem to run together, a stream of learning about imagination, playing well with others, not to talk to strangers...I don't recall that any of the episodes had a "plot." Just a camera on this guy and his puppets and whatever they all happened to want to do and discuss that day.

Being a librarian nerd, I of course had to go read all about the show and the man behind it. I found this great site that compiles some of Fred's wisdom (both on the show and when he was off the air): http://www.snappynewday.com/. Nuggets like the following:

"You don’t ever have to do anything sensational for people to love you.  When I say, “It’s you I like,” I’m talking about that part of you that knows that life is far more than anything you can ever see or hear or touch… that deep part of you that allows you to stand for those things without which humankind cannot survive: love that conquers hate, peace that rises triumphant over war, and justice that proves more powerful than greed.  So in all that you do in all of your life, I wish you the strength and the grace to make those choices which will allow you and your neighbor to become the best of whoever you are.”   
--- Fred Rogers

So yeah, I took the Trolley into Make-Believe a little this morning. King Friday and Prince Tuesday are still up to the same old shenanigans. ;)

Collins clan (most of 'em anyway)

Some pics from the family gathering. The theme was "birthday," because the date fell on my great-grandmother's (who lived to be a centennarian) and because we're all scattered about on our actual, individual birthdays.

My gramma bought a stack of birthday cards and we all signed our name to each one. Throughout the next year, on your birthday, you will receive this card with everyone's signatures, sent by gramma. Neat idea, huh? Somehow a "Get Well Soon" card snuck into the stack and we all had a chuckle.

I also got to meet some relatives that live just outside Paris: Raul and his daughter Emma. She and I became insta-buddies and I'm very tempted to take up their offer to come visit them in Chanteloup les Vignes (the name of their town means "the wolves that sing in the vineyards"). EY has an office in Paris, right? Hmmmm....

So here are some photos of my wacky family. More to come when I get the picture CD from dad. Little bro couldn't make it because of his chef-ly duties, but I'm sure dad will PhotoShop him into the group pic again. ;)

 

You thirsty, punk?

I finally put the flames on my mixer. How bad-ass is THIS?!

 

I'm mixin' up some WHOOPASS! Can you smell... what the rock...is COOKIN?

...sorry. I couldn't help myself.

I don't want to post any family reunion pics until my dad sends me the one of ALL of us, gathered in the flower bed at gramma and grampa's. It was a pretty awesome day, but I want to post all of us, not just the scattered candid photos that I took with my Canon.

Family is the most wonderful thing. Just when you think you know what to expect...BAM!...they go and surprise you. Thank God for them. I can't wait to post the pics!!!

Noms

Okay, before I share this recipe with you, let me just say that if I were to write a cookbook, it would be titled Half-assed: For those who don't love to cook but are tired of Hot Pockets. I am the queen of "buy most of the ingredients and then stir together," but I gotta tell ya...this is GOOD!

I cooked two cups of basmati rice in four cups of boiling water, then combined it with one 18-ounce carton of V8's butternut squash soup. Dear lord it tastes just like risotto, which takes about four times as long to make. And it makes enough to last all week (for one). Go forth and boil water!

I also discovered these little (overpriced) single-serving things from Green Giant. They come in broccoli & cheese, corn and peppers, etc., and it's a tiny plastic container covered in cellophane...of vegetables! Throw in microwave and commence eating veggies. Woot!

I've been eating pretty poorly lately and was NOT happy with the clunky, manual slide scale at the doctor's office the other day. I need to put down the Cakesters and pick up some carrots. Also, I'm checking out Deceptively Delicious in order to make some of the recipes for me to take into work, as well as for some of the kids that I babysit every now & then.

In other news, my grandparents are hosting a reunion/family picnic this Saturday, and I get to meet some relatives from France for the first time. Fun!

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh...

I got to put my toes in the water.

It's my second-favorite thing about summer, following close on the heels of that "green" tomato plant smell in the garden. But yeah, the toes went in and the next thing you know I wake up with a "laugh hangover," my voice shot from hours of talking and singing and laughing with some of the coolest people on the planet.

Driving home on the turnpike today I was equal parts incredibly tired and incredibly aware of even the smallest, shiniest thought in my head. It was like fireflies of happy, pushing out the fear and guilt and creakiness that had stayed too long.

Thank you, Schmidts, for never failing to amaze me with your friendship. Spending this time with your family at Tappan made me remember how you turned out so dern good. :)

Yeah yeah, I made a Facebook album already. I can't help it!

You Can't Take It With You

In boxing up some things (*sigh*), lovingly labelling them and preparing them for storage, I came across a small Rubbermaid bin that held, among other things, my bouquet and sash from Prom Princess 1995, pictures of powder puff football...and a newspaper clipping from my performance as Penny in You Can't Take It With You. I dug deeper and found my script, dog-eared, highlighted, abused as only a high school drama script can be abused, and then the program for the show; the cover illustrated by my papa, as most of them were during my four years at BV.

I thumbed through it, some names long forgotten, and came across the note from our director, Phil Kilbourne. This was the only year that the play was directed by someone not on faculty, and I had the extreme privelege of playing one of the leads. Before the curtain rose on me and my typewriter opening night, alone on the stage, he kissed my temple and whispered "This is your show." It was paternal and encouraging and something I will never forget. Reading his words tonight moved me, and I would like to share.

You Can't Take It With You is one of the greatest of all American comedies, indeed maybe the greatest. But don't let that scare you. I know when anyone says to me that such-and-such is the greatest anything, that usually is my cue to take a nap. Much as I love Gone With the Wind and Citizen Kane, I sometimes find it a bit difficult to remain awake by the time the credits roll. This is not the case with You Can't Take It With You. This is my fourth, or is it fifth, involvement with this gem, and I have yet to tire of it.

The first time I ever did this show was, like the actors tonight, in high school. (I think if you were to ask everybody at the Tony Awards, they would say the same thing.) This was the late sixties, and I found Grandpa's message in Act Three to be tremendously exhilarating, and I have endeavored to follow those precepts ever since. The idea that you could actually enjoy what you do for a living, that to pursue your dream instead of a wage, was I think the strongest single source of inspiration for me in entering a career in theater.

I could have been a doctor. I would have probably had a fine life, caring for the sick of New Jersey, and taoday have a lovely house and a lovely practice. This is what was expected of me, and who's to say I wouldn't have loved it. But I would have always known, deep in my heart, that I would not be living my real life, that the dream I had would only still be that...a dream.

Today I do not have a house, and I am working in an occupation with the highest unemployment rate of any unionized profession. I wouldn't trade a moment of it.

So to all of you out there, remember...there's still that saxophone in the back of your closet. It's never too late. After all...you can't take it with you.  ----Phil Kilbourne

#world

It's no secret that I'm sort of a big big fan of change, newness, adventure, exploration. It's why I get sucked into so many "task forces" at work, it's why I poke at buttons on a new camera or phone even when I don't know what they do. While not always the first adopter, I'm always willing to give it a try and look like I know what I'm doing. 

The link below is to a beautiful and insightful article about Twitter, and I encourage both fans and foes of that little blue bird to give it a read.
http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/paul-constant-reviews-twitter/Content?oid=1774875

Thinking back to 2004, when I started this blog, Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, etc. were not the prolific connectors they are today. Writing here felt very exposed and, as Paul writes in the article, narcissistic.

But now, I check up on my friends (new and old, ones I see every day and those I'll never meet) daily, and get to experience the wonder that is the myriad of directions that life has taken us all. It's not just seeing where they work or looking at photos of their kids' birthday parties, it's opening our eyes to what life really is....it's big, baby. And the more we use these technologies to connect, lurk, link, and share, the more we allow room in ourselves for empathy, comedy, and variety.

That may be the optimist's view of the interwebs, but hey I'm just pushing buttons to figure this out.

A few of the passages from Paul's article that most resonated with me are these:

We're telling each other stories, 140 characters at a time, as they unfold. If you can't see the value in that, you're hopeless.

It's watching the human inventiveness that arises from the restrictions—watching the way people play with the limited space—that's fun.

As in haiku, which has dozens of esoteric limitations, when you constrain a form, you can often broaden what people can do with it.

Of course people chafe at the constraints and make messes of language trying to shoehorn it in. (It's because we're humans. It's what we do.)

And lots of people take smug satisfaction from pointing out that Twitter is a fad, like Friendster, that will soon disappear.

They're right, of course.

But specifically, what's wrong with fads? What's wrong with trying out new things or acting like kids playing dress-up in a full wardrobe?

Timewave zero

On Wednesday, during lunch hour, it will be 12:34:56 on 7/8/09. I wonder if we'll get a mini-apocalypse to whet our pallates for the big one in 2012. 

At the very least, Summit Entertainment should have waited to release Knowing until Wednesday just to play off the hype (and by hype I mean just the bunch of nerds that think the numerology of 12:34:56 7/8/09 is cool).

There's a pretty hilarious website dedicated to the 2012 nonsense. Check out the "celebrity believers" flash file in the upper left corner. Hell, if the Smashing Pumpkins, Shirley Maclaine, and Li'l Wayne believe the theory then sign me up! I want on this crazy train! Where's my official 2012: the end T-shirt?

Staid

Just me and Kitty here today, about to go stretch out on the sunny deck, both of us.
Perfect day for a little solitude
After consecutive days of newness and joyful noise and hard work and love.
I like to see that I am still the same when all alone.
An apple core of goodness,
Though sometimes, my skin, it bruises
Others.

In the end I am thankful for these days, when Kitty looks up at me to silently remind
What a long strange trip it's been.
But hold tight little fella,
This sun, too, will set...and tomorrow we set out again.