 Winnie Said It |
Sep 5, 2008 4:05 pm
Mood: exhausted, 24 Views | "Promise me you'll never forget me because if I thought you would I'd never leave."
-Winnie the Pooh
What a touching thing for a cartoon character to say. Yet, if we made such a promise, how long would we actually keep it?
I can almost hear Winnie The Pooh (Sterling Holloway) saying this now. | |
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2 Comments | |
| That.....Song!!! |
Aug 31, 2008 8:43 pm
Mood: happy, 53 Views | It’s a song I first heard in 1988. I remember the year because I went to a dance club with my girlfriend, Melanie, and a bunch of her friends, and a couple of their boyfriends, and it was the first such club that I’d been to since Disco died.
Anyway, some guy was hitting on one of Melanie’s single friends, and he went to the DJ and requested an appropriate song for her; appropriate because of the color dress she was wearing. When the song began to play, he asked her to dance, and away they went. And when I first realized that it was a slow song, I grabbed Melanie’s hand and we made our way to the crowded dance floor.
As we began dancing, the song quickly captured my attention. I liked the slow rhythm and calm melody, and I was mesmerized by the beautiful lyrics.
“Wow!” I said softly into her ear. “Listen to this song.”
The singer’s thoughts and words were of only his beautiful lady, as he told her things she wanted to hear, how gorgeous she is, how beautiful she looks, and he set the whole thing to music.
It was simple, tender, and romantic, and it was so new and beautiful to me. I pictured the singer and his lady at a cozy little table in a nightclub, a single candle illuminating their faces; she, a red rose in her hand, shying away from his intense gaze; he, holding the fingertips of her other hand, obsessed with her beautiful eyes, lips, dress… and then he speaks to her…
When the song was over, we looked at each other. We were completely enthralled, and Melanie’s eyes were watery.
I remember hearing the song again in the 1990s, when my two brothers and I were together. I don’t remember where we were, but the three of us listened intently as the song played. When it was over we commented on how much we liked it. We were three grown men, fascinated by a single love song.
Since I first heard it, I’ve heard the song perhaps two or three times a year, which isn’t very often, and certainly not often enough. But, I heard it again last night, and the memories of 1988 flooded my head.
I don’t know anybody who doesn’t like…
Lady In Red.
Here are the beautiful lyrics:
LADY IN RED
I've never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight
I've never seen you shine so bright
I've never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance
They're looking for a little romance
Given half a chance
And I've never seen that dress you're wearing
Or the highlights in your hair
That catch your eyes
I have been blind
The lady in red is dancing with me
Cheek to cheek
There's nobody here
It's just you and me
It's where I wanna be
But I hardly know this beauty by my side
I'll never forget the way you look tonight
I've never seen you looking so gorgeous as you did tonight
I've never seen you shine so bright, you were amazing
I've never seen so many people want to be there by your side
And when you turned to me and smiled, it took my breath away
And I have never had such a feeling
Such a feeling of complete and utter love
As I do tonight
The lady in red is dancing with me
Cheek to cheek
There's nobody here
It's just you and me
It's where I wanna be
But I hardly know this beauty by my side
I'll never forget the way you look tonight
I never will forget the way you look tonight
The lady in red
My lady in red
I love you
(Lyrics from the artist Chris De Burgh.) | |
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3 Comments | |
| Don't Worry, I'll be Fine (humorous) |
Aug 28, 2008 7:55 am
Mood: sleepy, 72 Views | Hi Folks.
As some of you may have realized, I haven’t been writing very much on my blog in the last several weeks. The reason for this is… serious health problems. You see, I had this ingrown toenail that become infected, and soon I suffered from acute blood poisoning. Because of the infection in my bloodstream, I passed out at my cosmetology school. That’s right, cosmetology school. And when I passed out, I fell down a flight of stairs, cutting my head open, and breaking every jar and can of makeup in my makeup bag, thus ruining my thesis titled “Acne, Psoriasis, And Other Skin Complications,” with a soup of messy mascara, foundation, nail polish remover, and blood.
As I was sprawled out there at the bottom of the stairs, many of my fellow classmates, all of them female, took turns giving me mouth-to-mouth, even though I was conscious and breathing normally. As a result, due to an overzealous 19 year old, one of my lungs collapsed and was sucked out of my chest cavity and into my mouth. An ambulance was called and I was rushed to the hospital, but only after the chubby paramedic selfishly stopped at the mini-mart for a bag of Doritos and a Charleston Chew.
The emergency room doctors, one of whom commented on my neatly manicured fingernails, acted swiftly, and soon my lung was untwisted, cleaned off, re-inflated, and guided back into its usual place. (My lung tasted like a NY City sidewalk!)
As a result of this injury, I am unable to receive enough oxygen when I breathe, and the lack of oxygen is causing some of my other organs to fail, and my skin sometimes turns interesting colors. And, as if I don’t have enough to worry about, I am growing moss on the north side of my body.
Since my injury, I have been going to rehab daily, but the rehab doctors and nurses say that rehab isn’t enough, that I have find a way to take deeper breaths, otherwise, I will die of auto-asphyxiation, or smothered by moss, whichever comes first.
During one of my daily therapeutic four hour body massages at the rehab center, Nurse Peggy suggested that I try playing a musical instrument to help my injured lung. I told her that I already knew how to play the piano, but then she made herself clear and said that I should learn an instrument that I play with my mouth, and that the stiff breaths needed to play it will do wonders for all of my lungs.
Therefore, I have been taking bagpipe lessons for the last month or so with renowned piper, Professor Angus MacKeller. He's played for such audiences as The Queen of England, at the unveiling of Her Highnesses new Royal Flagpole, two Popes, and at many parades and funerals.
My breathing has improved slightly since I started my lessons, but I have a long way to go until my flesh looks and stays Caucasian. My kidneys are beginning to function normally and Nurse Peggy is teaching me how to pee again, but my doctor says that it will be at least another month until my liver can handle any whiskey.
So, don’t worry, friends, for I am on the mend and I’ll be back soon, writing other ridiculous rubbish that may come into my head.
Your friend,
Gotgumonmyshoe | |
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4 Comments | |
| Ten things men shouldn't say out loud in Victoria's Secret... |
Aug 27, 2008 1:36 pm
Mood: depressed, 70 Views | Ten things men shouldn't say out loud in Victoria's Secret...
10- Oh honey, you'll never squeeze your ass into that.
9- No thanks... just sniffing.
8- I'll be in the dressing room going blind.
7- Mom will love this.
6- Oh, the size won't matter. She's inflatable.
5- No need to wrap it up. I'll eat it here.
4- Will you model this for me?
3- The miracle what? This is better than world peace!
2- 75 bucks? You're just gonna end up naked anyway.
1- Does this come in children's sizes? | |
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2 Comments | |
| A Work Of Fiction |
Aug 18, 2008 9:03 am
Mood: happy, 180 Views | We stood in line for over an hour that day. My daughter and I even left the house early to get a good place in line, but others had arrived even earlier.
The ticket window was not yet open, and it would be another thirty minutes before it was. Meanwhile, on the electronic marquis, I was reading the upcoming events at the auditorium that I would much rather see: hockey games, Dr. Seuss On Ice, The Chinese Circus, The Lisa Marie Presley impersonator…
Though, I still didn’t know who Hillary Duff was, I’m sure that she was as good as my daughter told me she was. There was a poster of her hanging in the window of the ticket booth. She was young, pretty, and I was told that she could sing. She was all that a thirteen-year-old wanted to be, and if my daughter wanted to emulate her, it was ok with me.
“Dad! She’s so cool!” she told me, “Please can we go see her? It’ll be my birthday present for the next five years!”
I finally gave in, and now, here we were, standing in line with a whole bunch of other girls ranging in age from six to sixteen, and their mothers and fathers.
I looked at the other parents. Not one of them appeared to be angry, impatient, bored, or unhappy. Like me, they were each taking pleasure in the joy that they were bringing to their little girl’s life, and were also enjoying the adventure of standing in line and people-watching. Many of the mothers, strangers at first, were chatting about their children, their neighborhoods, and their schools. Some of the fathers were talking about their jobs, the repairs being made to the Catholic Cathedral across the street, or changing the oil in the mini-van.
I talked to my daughter about everything, from boys, to her best friend (whom she was mad at), and the idea of getting a new kitten, as our old cat, Shemp, died a few weeks earlier.
After about thirty minutes of waiting, my daughter took my hand and looked up at me. I smiled at her.
“Dad,” she said, “My foot’s starting to hurt.”
Her foot was crushed in the car accident that claimed her mother’s life five years earlier. Since then, after six surgeries, she was getting along fine, but it bothered her from time to time.
“Do you want to go?” I asked.
“No way!” was her quick reply.
I looked around for a place where she could sit down. Aside from a filthy trash receptacle and the hard, dirty, concrete ground, there was no place to sit, not even a bench. I looked over to the doors of the auditorium and thought that maybe I could get a chair from inside. I knew that the doors were locked, as I saw numerous people pulling on them as we waited in line.
“How bad is it, Honey?” I asked,
“It’s getting worse.”
I took one more look around for a place for her to sit. There wasn’t any.
“Can you sit on the ground?”
“Eww! It’s filthy.”
I thought of placing her on my shoulders, but thought that we would look ridiculous to the others.
“Dad…” she said, as the pain grew more uncomfortable.
Without another thought, I turned her around, and lifted her 85-pound body up over my head and set her on my shoulders. Immediately, I could see people looking at us like we were a couple of weirdoes.
“How’s that? Better?” I asked.
“Yeah. Thanks,” she said, “Don’t drop me. I’m so high up.”
“I won’t drop you. Never!”
Again, I looked around at the people looking at us. The smile on my face was enough to tell them to mind their own business. But then I started to hear other little girls asking their dads to put them up on their shoulders, and before I knew it, there were about a dozen other little girls sitting on their daddy’s shoulders, as high as my daughter. Their smiles lit up their little faces, and I knew that my daughter was smiling down at me, just like her mother was.
Finally, the ticket windows opened, and within ten minutes it was our turn.
With my little girl still on my shoulders, I approached the window. “Two for the front row, center, if you got ‘em,” I said, feeling my daughter’s excitement as she wiggled around.
“I got fifth row, center, on the aisle,” the man said, pointing to a diagram of the seats.
“Perfect. Does that include ear plugs?” I said, joking about the noise I expected.
I got the tickets and handed them up to her.
“Don’t lose them, Honey,” I said, “They cost more than last month’s car payment.”
“I won’t. Thanks, Dad. You’re the best dad in the whole world.”
And I was…just as I promised her mother I would be. | |
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7 Comments | |
| WATERMELON |
Aug 16, 2008 11:58 pm
Mood: sleepy, 194 Views | “Chop your own wood, and it will warm you twice.”
–Henry Ford.
The first time I read that Henry Ford quote, it made total sense to me. It means that by doing the arduous work of cutting firewood, you will more appreciate your warming fire.
But now there are those “seedless” watermelons for sale in the supermarkets. They’re just as good as watermelons with the seeds, but all of the hard work of sorting the seeds in my mouth and then spitting them out…it’s as though someone has done this for me, therefore, I’m not working so hard to enjoy my watermelon…just as if someone has cut my firewood for me! | |
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6 Comments | |
| Americans... |
Aug 16, 2008 8:39 am
Mood: lazy, 181 Views | "Americans will put up with anything provided it doesn't block traffic."
-Dan Rather | |
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1 comment | |
| The Road Of Broken Dreams |
Aug 14, 2008 8:12 am
Mood: sad, 219 Views | The Road Of Broken Dreams
I live on the road of broken dreams,
It’s a solitary lane,
The clocks have stopped and the grass is brown,
And the shadows leave a stain.
I live in a house of shattered glass,
The cold runs through my veins,
The beds are made and the dust collects,
And the roof leaks when it rains.
I live in a room where the light is dim,
And the silence is filled with pain,
The carpets are dull and faded with time,
And sorrow is my chain.
I live on the road of broken dreams,
Where reason has been slain,
The trees are bare and the gullies are full,
And teardrops skim the drain. | |
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6 Comments | |
| Richard Simmons |
Aug 11, 2008 10:46 pm
Mood: bored, 233 Views | Richard Simmons is a good...um...person.
He is the only person that I know of that cares about our health and how we eat. He fights and struggles and cares for those who are fat and obese. He offers exercise plans, diet plans, and books. Have you ever seen Jenny Craig offering help via an info-mercial? Do any of us know what she even looks like?
Richard Simmons, who used to be quite fat himself, created the exercise videos "Sweating to the Oldies," and has created several dieting aids, including the logical and successful "Deal-a-Meal."
In the last several years, we have all heard how obese people around the world are becoming. Time and time again, on the TV news, in the newspapers, in magazines, we learn that more of our our children are becoming obese, and that weight related diseases, such as Diabetes and Heart Disease, are on the rise. We hear that more American adults are fatter now than ever before. But who does anything about it?
When television shows us terribly obese people in dire need of help, Richard Simmons is always there encouraging and assisting the troubled fatties. With his compassion, care, and enthusiasm, he will do whatever he can to improve, and even save the lives of these extreme cases.
He's flamboyant, ostentatious, and annoying as hell, but I think that Richard Simmons ought to be awarded the (American) Presidential Medal of Freedom for his never ending pursuit of our good health and wellbeing. But most of all, I think he deserves our respect and our gratitude for his work, his sweat, and his tears.
Thank You, Richard Simmons. | |
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5 Comments | |
| BRAVO! ! ! ! ! |
Aug 8, 2008 10:32 pm
Mood: excited, 306 Views | BRAVO!!!!!
With tradition, culture, precision, discipline, ingenuity, talent, originality, and great physical and technical achievement, the 39th Summer Olympic Games has begun in Beijing, China.
Wow!!!!!
From the moment it started, my eyes were glued to my television, as I expected nothing but the best from the talented and disciplined Chinese performers. It was a wonderful, excellent, one-of-a-kind show, and I’m glad that I turned down an evening at a nightclub to witness it.
Every Chinese man, woman, and child should be very proud, not only because your country is hosting the Olympics for the first time, but also for the most entertaining opening ceremony I have ever seen. It was nothing less than perfect!
I’m not one to go ape!*&!@ over anyone; not movie stars, musicians, athletes, political figures, or anyone else, and I probably never will be. The last rock concert I saw was in the 1980s, and I’ve never owned a photo or a jersey of a movie star or an athlete, and I don’t have anyone’s autograph. If a giant Broadway play comes to town, I won’t pay to see it. If the President comes to town, big deal! If the Beatles somehow got back together, I wouldn’t pay a dime to have a front row seat! I can’t see paying good money or wasting any time to see anyone who is no better than I am, the Pope excluded. But let me tell you this, I would have paid up to… oh… let’s say $900 to see the opening ceremonies in China, and I would have enjoyed every moment of it!
To the person and/or people who are responsible for the great planing and the production of the opening ceremony, and to the Chinese performers and everyone associated with the production, thank you for sharing this spectacular moment with the rest of the world. Your talents and capacities to execute such an excellent presentation on such a large magnitude was phenomenal. I applaud you! If the rest of the games are as wonderful and well planned as the opening ceremony, I’ll be watching TV for the next 16 days with great passion and excitement.
Thank you, China, for being such a wonderful host for these Olympic Games. The eyes of the world are watching you, and I anticipate that you will present to the world the most exciting and meticulous Olympics ever! You will set a new standard and be a new model for the Olympic Games of the future!
Once again, BRAVO!!!! | |
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2 Comments | |
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