A couple of weeks ago I had some no-longer-useful internal organs removed. And while I did FANTASTIC in the getting-over-surgery department, they still sent me home with a bottle of happy pills.
It took me about 12 hours to realized that codeine ain't got shit on two beers on an empty stomach. Which means I had permission to have two beers for breakfast every day for a week. Seeing that I am the Permission Giver. It works that way.
But no matter how well you do and no matter how magnificent the two beers make you think you are feeling, you still have to sit here a lot. So I've been watching a LOT of television and yesterday I sort of hit saturation...as was pointed out when The Nice Kid said, "Why are you doing that?"
"That" turned out to be...saying Monk's lines before he said them. Totally unconciously and without thinking about it. So in order to improve the quality of my sitting-around-ness (Anyone need a set of hand crocheted beverage coasters? I have about 37. Sets of four.) I made it a point to watch AMC and TMC at least part of the day and Oh! people!...the times they are a-changin'.
We started off with the original Tarzan and I'm telling you...I have NO idea how that naked man got on a public movie screen back in those days. My children were stunned...they'd never heard the orginal call and then there were the ELEPHANTS! with the real, six to eight foot long tusks. We've seen elephants in zoos but these were real and they were awe-inspiring. Especially if you're a small Southern child. And then I tried to explain that Johnny Weismueller was like...really great at something. At which point we went back and read his biography and people...that boy wasn't just purty, he rocked. Like, Olympic gold medals out the ass rocked. I hate I had forgotten that.
Then, we watched Charlie Chan (who also rocked) and I'm trying to figure out how in the hell a white guy, in a linen suit with two-tone shoes, ended up playing the greatest Oriental detective in the world. And I added another name to my list of favorite names (Artemus Gordon, Trampus, Smokey Lonesome lead) with Chan's sidekick (after his sons)...Birmingham Brown. But THEN, and obviously these people ain't NEVER heard of political correctness, it turns out that the film was distributed by, and I am NOT making this up, Anglo Amalgamated. For real. I wrote it down. Anglo Amalgamated. Oh, Lordy, does the Reverend Jesse Jackson know about this?
The Thin Man movies ran one night. Superbly cool and I LOVE Myrna Loy...the woman had balls. Really skinny, pretty ones.
But then my parents came back from a week in Branson and my mother was distraught. They had accidentally ended up at the Roy Rogers Theatre and it turned out to be one of the nicest surprises of the trip...after the Japanese fiddle player, of course. After the show my mom went into the gift shop to buy the kids souvenirs and realized...the kids have no idea who Roy Rogers is. Was. Maybe I should call Nickelodean. (Wait, can't do that. I blocked Nickelodean when that youngest tramp Spears girl got pregnant, at 16, and they wrote a "vacation" into the show. I have three daughters, I'm one down and two to go and you do NOT need to be glamorizing teenage pregnancy. Not in this house.)
So all in all, we're happy with the educational experience. Tarzan's yell. Charlie Chan's sons. Roy Rogers' horse. (I'm not going to tell you. You HAVE to remember the horse's name.)
It took me about 12 hours to realized that codeine ain't got shit on two beers on an empty stomach. Which means I had permission to have two beers for breakfast every day for a week. Seeing that I am the Permission Giver. It works that way.
But no matter how well you do and no matter how magnificent the two beers make you think you are feeling, you still have to sit here a lot. So I've been watching a LOT of television and yesterday I sort of hit saturation...as was pointed out when The Nice Kid said, "Why are you doing that?"
"That" turned out to be...saying Monk's lines before he said them. Totally unconciously and without thinking about it. So in order to improve the quality of my sitting-around-ness (Anyone need a set of hand crocheted beverage coasters? I have about 37. Sets of four.) I made it a point to watch AMC and TMC at least part of the day and Oh! people!...the times they are a-changin'.
We started off with the original Tarzan and I'm telling you...I have NO idea how that naked man got on a public movie screen back in those days. My children were stunned...they'd never heard the orginal call and then there were the ELEPHANTS! with the real, six to eight foot long tusks. We've seen elephants in zoos but these were real and they were awe-inspiring. Especially if you're a small Southern child. And then I tried to explain that Johnny Weismueller was like...really great at something. At which point we went back and read his biography and people...that boy wasn't just purty, he rocked. Like, Olympic gold medals out the ass rocked. I hate I had forgotten that.
Then, we watched Charlie Chan (who also rocked) and I'm trying to figure out how in the hell a white guy, in a linen suit with two-tone shoes, ended up playing the greatest Oriental detective in the world. And I added another name to my list of favorite names (Artemus Gordon, Trampus, Smokey Lonesome lead) with Chan's sidekick (after his sons)...Birmingham Brown. But THEN, and obviously these people ain't NEVER heard of political correctness, it turns out that the film was distributed by, and I am NOT making this up, Anglo Amalgamated. For real. I wrote it down. Anglo Amalgamated. Oh, Lordy, does the Reverend Jesse Jackson know about this?
The Thin Man movies ran one night. Superbly cool and I LOVE Myrna Loy...the woman had balls. Really skinny, pretty ones.
But then my parents came back from a week in Branson and my mother was distraught. They had accidentally ended up at the Roy Rogers Theatre and it turned out to be one of the nicest surprises of the trip...after the Japanese fiddle player, of course. After the show my mom went into the gift shop to buy the kids souvenirs and realized...the kids have no idea who Roy Rogers is. Was. Maybe I should call Nickelodean. (Wait, can't do that. I blocked Nickelodean when that youngest tramp Spears girl got pregnant, at 16, and they wrote a "vacation" into the show. I have three daughters, I'm one down and two to go and you do NOT need to be glamorizing teenage pregnancy. Not in this house.)
So all in all, we're happy with the educational experience. Tarzan's yell. Charlie Chan's sons. Roy Rogers' horse. (I'm not going to tell you. You HAVE to remember the horse's name.)
Comments