Monthly Archives: June 2009

Fistbump

I realized in the 11 seconds of watching this what I love so much about them. They’re just themselves, and that’s it.

Hello, Universe

I start each morning by checking email. From bed. On my iPhone. It takes me several minutes to emerge from my crusty-eye fog, and reading in bed, even if it’s email, helps. I’m not sure why, but I get a lot of emails after midnight.

This past weekend, I signed up for Notes from the Universe after reading Chrissy’s post about them. I got my first Note on Monday, my second today, and I wanted to say it’s a really nice way to wake up each morning, by reading a note from the Universe about just how much it has to offer you.

Bali Ha’i

CLH bought a Blu-ray player for my his birthday. Our first two Blu-ray movies: Clockwork Orange and South Pacific. We spent the evening watching all the songs from South Pacific, with sing-along subtitles.

South Pacific Drinking Game: Take a swig every time a color filter is used, or a soft-focus filter.

Rimmed with frost wherever he has hair

If you don’t find this story about Mr. Rogers heartwarming, then you have no heart to warm.

Stuff White People Like

The inner drama of childhood

Friend Jim sends a video as a corollary to this post about Mr. Rogers.

In 1969 the US Senate had a hearing on funding the newly developed Corporation for Public Broadcasting. The proposed endowment was $20 million, but President Nixon wanted it cut in half because of the spending going on in the Vietnam War. This is an video clip of the exchange between Mr. Rogers and Senator Pastore, head of the hearing. Senator Pastore starts out very abrasive and by the time Mr. Rogers is done talking, Senator Pastore’s inner child has heard Mr. Rogers and agreed with him. Enjoy.

In the afore-mentioned story, there is this line:

and yet when he speaks, it is in that voice, his voice, the famous one, the unmistakable one, the televised one, the voice dressed in sweater and sneakers, the soft one, the reassuring one, the curious and expository one, the sly voice that sounds adult to the ears of children and childish to the ears of adults

Hearing that voice, after all these years, almost brought tears to my eyes.

Food that moves

I’m on my annual vacation to Florida, and it’s rained every day since we’ve been here. Next weekend, Hukilau weekend, should be nicer, and I’m looking forward to seeing friends old and new, including a few I’ve never met in real life before. I’m volunteering on Thursday at the Bahia Cabana check-in, so if you’re gonna be there stop by and see me.

I got another freelance gig. My first post at The Daily Fork is about all the weird food I ate while living in Korea. It includes the video of CLH eating live octopus.

The Road

In the past month I’ve finished two of the best books I’ve ever read. One has been made into a movie, but the other one most likely never will be.

The part where Viggo hands his son the Coca Cola? Killed me.

But he’s got to be a Libra!

Sunday night CLH took me to the Stages musical production of Grey Gardens.

It. Was. Amazing. So. Amazing. The actress who plays, first, Edith Beale (circa 1945), and in the second act, Little Edie (c. 1975) is so good. The songs are hilarious, the dialogue is fast and funny and the overall story is, of course, extremely depressing. The run has been extended through this weekend, so if you live in Houston and you have a chance, you must go see it. As Little Edie would say, “Hooooonestly!”

If you like piña coladas

Those of you who have never had the pleasure of consuming a cocktail mixed by me can now replicate the experience in your own home, thanks to my new post up at The Daily Fork: My Top 10 Summer Drinks to Help Beat the Heat. Recipes included.

Summer jogging route

Park at Eleanor Tinsley Park. Run across the Sabine Street Bridge. Go the long way north around the Jamail Skate Park. Run west towards the Waugh Street Bat Bridge. Take Shephard over Buffalo Bayou south towards Allen Parkway. Turn back east. Stop to throw Gus the dog in the Gus S. Wortham Fountain to cool off. Holding breath to avoid the guano smell as you cross Waugh Street again. Continue east past Taft Street until you reach the Eleanor Tinsley Park. Spend some time stretching in the grass.

Mexico was a disaster

Bunny Breckinridge as portrayed by Bill Murray in Ed Wood.

Bunny was reportedly the inspiration for Gore Vidal’s psychedelic sex-change novel Myra Breckinridge, which is out of print. After months of searching, I found a copy for $2 at Oklahoma City’s Book Beat book store.

The novel was later turned into a film starring John Huston, Mae West, recently deceased Farrah Fawcett (in her first film role) and Raquel Welch. The film was panned by audiences and critics, but I happen to adore it.

myra breckinridge

Dah dah dah dah daaaaaaa!

My obsession with the Beales seems to have reached critical mass. It started with Jezebel but has been fed in recent months by the documentary’s availability on Netflix, then the HBO movie, and then the musical coming to Houston. We have the DVD at home now, and we’ve been watching it in chunks, and because YouTube is like a bag of Lays potato chips (you can’t watch just one) I’ve been obsessively Googling clips from all three versions of their lives.

Since last Sunday I’ve been singing verses of this song aloud in the kitchen every time I do dishes. Christine Ebersole won a Tony for her performance as Little Edie.

Lick your lips

Mmmmm. Beeeeeer.

Empties

A story for the Houston Press in which I make a Slim Pickens reference.