horn tooting

Dare I toot moiself’s own horn?

 

 

Silly question.

And The Emmy For Best Limited Blog Post Goes To….

 

 

 

sally

 

 

 

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Dateline: last Sunday, watching (portions of) the Emmys telecast. A reunion of sorts, of the leads of the 1980’s movie 9 to 5, occurred when Lily Tomlin, Jane Fonda, and Dolly Parton walked on stage present the award for Best Supporting Actor in a Limited Series or Movie. In what was apparently/generally considered to be a moment of empowerment – i.e., a takedown of #45 without even mentioning his name – Fonda segued to the award introduction by saying, “Back in 1980, in that movie, we refused to be controlled by a sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical bigot.”  Tomlin followed with the kicker: “And in 2017, we still refuse to be controlled by a sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical bigot.”

Except…not entirely.

 

 

lion

Sorry Ladies, but I’ve a bone to pick with you.

 

 

 

 

Disclaimer: I am such a fan of Tomlin’s and Fonda’s [1]  and even (surprise!) of parts of Parton’s respective careers.

But.

Since the release of their iconic feminist comedy…well…perhaps it’s just petty moiself, but I couldn’t help but squirm when I saw them on the Emmys and thought, what exactly has changed?

Those (relatively) powerful  and privileged women can, without apparent irony, wring declarations such as ” …we refuse to be controlled by a sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical bigot” out of their unrealistically, surgically-taut mouths, while the passion and conviction and other emotions I assume they wish to convey are barely detectable from the frozen/practically immobile facial muscles beneath their Botoxed/lifted and pulled countenances.

Add up the costs of the plastic surgery and cosmetic “enhancements” the three of them have obviously had, and it could underwrite hurricane relief in the US Virgin Islands for the next three months.

 

 

emmyshot

 

 

 

Such alternations of any natural appearance of aging are, in part, a direct result of the entertainment industry’s notorious acquiescence to the male standards of female appearance. Women actors must forever attempt to look like they are desperately attempting to pass for 35, while male actors like Robert DeNiro can still get leading man roles despite having a face that increasingl resembles albino beef jerky makes him look as if he is in his seventies. Which he is.

Keep up the good work, ladies, but don’t kid yourselves that you’ve refused to be controlled by sexism and hypocrisy.

 

 

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Speaking of bones to pick….

Department Of Missing The Point

In Thursday’s NY Times there appeared a full page letter, addressed to #45 and Members of Congress, from The Episcopal Church. The letter, signed by prominent Episcopal bishops, implored the addressees not to end DACA.

Being bishops and such, they had to justify their appeal on religious grounds, and began the letter with a quote from Christian scriptures:

“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so, some have entertained angels unawares.” (Hebrews 13:1)

Yeah, well…Bishop Boys,  [2] that particular passage doesn’t exactly make your case in the way I think you intended.

 

 

WORD

 

 

 

It’s too bad they can’t be like Happy Heathens, Heretics and Humanists, whose motivation for helping the powerless and people in need is… because that’s the right thing to do.  We the (secular) people help one another, not at the behest of or to score brownies points with some supernatural entity, but because we recognize that we are all we have, and that we must try to overturn the divisive, provincial loyalties of the past, which are based on religion, nationality, gender, etc.,  and work together for the common good of humanity.

The quote used in the EC letter, like so many scripture passages, makes no case for treating strangers kindly because they are our fellow human beings and are in need of, are deserving of, being treated with dignity and empathy.  Nope; it takes the brownie point route: it says that you should welcome strangers because they might be your invisible friend’s special assistants.

 

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Department Of Fun With Words

MH, shaking his head and chuckling softly after hanging up the phone after speaking with a medical billing representative about daughter Belle’s foot surgery.

“Her (the billing rep’s) word for patients’ visits is, encounters.”

Moiself, of course, immediately imagined the scenario of a doctor charting an “encounter” with a patient: I was walking down the hallway and turned the corner, and there she was!

 

 

mccoy

Dammit, I’m a doctor, not an encounter group therapist.

 

 

 

 

 

*   *   *

“It’s time for the human race to enter the solar system.”

“I love California. I practically grew up in Phoenix.”

The future will be better tomorrow.”

“Hawaii has always been a very pivotal role in the Pacific. It is in the Pacific. It is a part of the United States that is an island that is right here.”

“For NASA, space is still a high priority.”

“If we don’t succeed we run the risk of failure.”

“If you give a person a fish, they’ll fish for a day. But if you train a person to fish, they’ll fish for a lifetime.”

“You all look like happy campers to me. Happy campers you are, Happy campers you have been, and as far as I’m concerned, happy campers you will always be.

“I understand the importance of bondage between parent and child.”

“Verbosity leads to clear, inarticulate things.”

“I stand by all the misstatements that I have made.”

The above is  a sampling of the many mangled messages from arguably one of the 20th century’s greatest public bunglers of the English language, J. Danforth “Dan” Quayle. [3]

After watching portions of Sunday’s Emmys awards telecast –  essentially a #45 dump-a-thon  [4] which occasionally bestowed an award – I recalled what a comedy writer said, oh-so-many years ago, during the 1992 political race. The writer, along with a couple of political cartoonists, sheepishly confessed to rooting for the Bush–Quayle ticket, for what he described as purely selfish reasons:  material.  You just sat back and watched  Quayle, and the jokes and cartoons essentially wrote themselves.

Quayle, who eventually could claim the dubious honor of being featured in many a political and cultural journal’s Dumbest Vice Presidential Picks of All Time list, was described as “the handsome, blond junior senator from Indiana,” and it was rumored he had been chosen for the Republican presidential ticket in part for his looks, which some people mistakenly thought akin to a matinee idol.  [5]   Republican party analysts hoped, as reported in this LA Times article,  that Quayle’s youth, and his”…boyish handsomeness that has proven appealing to some women voters” would help Bush to close the “gender gap that makes him (Bush) less popular with women….”

 

 

quayle

 

 

 

Much to the chagrin of Republicans and the delight of everyone else, it didn’t take long for folks to realize that the GOP had put someone on their ticket who was…how you say…a shiny box of Cracker Jack with no prize inside.  For many of us, it was both amusing and frightening to think that such a person was a heartbeat (and a minus 35 IQ points) away from the presidency. Quayle gave every indication of being, politically and intellectually, the kind of person who would ask for a price check at the Dollar Tree.

It is obvious that political commentators, satirists, cartoonists, stand-up comics, the entire cast of SNL and late night TV talk shows hosts, have had an surplus of material since the Mandarin Mussolini took office.. But I don’t think any of them were rooting for that possibility (or if they were; I hope they’d be ashamed to admit it now).

 

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Department Of Not Quite The Affirmation He Was Looking For

A conversation with a friend about ego-centrism, self -aggrandizement, false humility, and other endearing traits, was responsible for this  story coming to mind.

In the mid 1970s, (former) Beatle John Lennon and his wife, artist Yoko Ono, were separated for 18 months, at Ono’s suggestion, to relieve stress on their relationship. Ono stayed in New York while Lennon went to Los Angeles, where he engaged in a period of self-doubt and alcoholic debauchery (which he was later to call his “Lost Weekend”), hanging out with other like-minded substance abusers in the music world (e.g., singer-songwriter Harry Nilsson).

One night in March 1974, Lennon and a group of friends went to LA’s legendary Troubador nightclub.  At one point, while waiting for the headliner to come on stage, Lennon went to the restroom. He rifled through the drawers in the restroom’s cabinet, found a (clean) Kotex napkin, stuck it to his forehead, and returned to his table. He continued to wear the unique chapeau for the remainder of the evening. Because the drunker you and your friends get, the funnier is the sanitary napkin stuck to your head.

The increasingly inebriated Lennon  ordered drink after drink and reportedly behaved obnoxiously to the nightclub staff.  [6] When he left his table and headed for the exit he was confronted by a waitress, who asked him why he wasn’t leaving a tip.

“Do you know who I am?” Lennon snapped.

“Yeah,” the waitress  retorted. “You’re some asshole with a Kotex on your head.”

 

 

 

lennonhat

On the other hand, he had been photographed sporting less flattering headgear….

 

 

 

 

 

*   *   *

May you never be some asshole with a Kotex on your head;
May you never be referred to as a Happy Camper;
May you come to terms with your doctor viewing your visits as encounters;
…and may the hijinks ensue.

 

Thanks for stopping by.  Au Vendredi!

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[1] Especially their latest venture, Grace and  Frankie. See it, it you haven’t already

[2] And girls – this is the Episcopal Church, after all. Like all Christian denominations, still peddling Iron Age mythology, but with their own 21st century, gender-inclusive twist.

[3] who – believe it or not, kiddies – was an actual Vice President of the United States of ‘Murka, during the Bush The First term.

[4] Not that there’s anything wrong with that!

[5] They compared him to Robert Redford, if you can imagine that. No need to imagine that Redford was not pleased, and fired back at Quayle and his supporters.

[6] “It was my first night on Brandy Alexanders and my last,” Lennon later said, when recalling the incident.