(Groan.)
Time I went to bed last night: 1:10 a.m.
Time the next-door neighbor’s home alarm — a klaxon horn mounted on the outside of the house, 40 feet from my pillow — went off, not due to an intrusion but to someone forgetting to turn it off before going out for morning coffee: 6:10 a.m.
You have a nice day, too.
So you can guess the mood I’m in this morning, on a day forecast to be 92 degrees at its peak, with the usual oppressive humidity. Sorry, Dexter, but I don’t think I’m going to be attending the Red Wings victory parade today. Although the idea of a nice long nap on the ice might sound pretty good by then.
There are those who are energized by parades and crowds, and those who are not. I’m in the latter group, which is unusual, because I’m a classic Myers-Briggs extrovert. But crowds frequently send me into a funk; who are these awful people, and are any of them living near me? I’m likely to think. And do they have exterior home alarms?
I think I should go back to bed. Enjoy Lance Mannion’s take on “Weeds,” here. Did anyone see “Swingtown,” and if you did, what did you think? And here’s a writer’s trick: When all else seems inadequate, try a lede like this:
Let me be blunt: “You Don’t Mess With the Zohan” is the finest post-Zionist action-hairdressing sex comedy I have ever seen.
The Boston Globe allegedly did it first, when it described “Shakes the Clown” as “the ‘Citizen Kane’ of alcoholic clown movies.”
Back to bed. Back, probably, later.
(Order your Amazon through me and I earn 4 percent. Click the “powered by Amazon” logo.)
John said on June 6th, 2008 at 9:12 am
I miss the ‘70s!!! But I got a big ol’ scoop of it last night on CBS. Swingtown had me laughing from the get-go, from the cheesy airline pilot/porn star wannabe in his wife-beaters (the undershirt), to the faux post-modern kitchen appliances. The ending scene with the conservative housefrau cleaning her oven (odds say she used Easy-Off) to wash the sin out of her eyes, had me howling. I just hope CBS has the cajones to let this series run all summer. Note: not a lot of national advertisers bought the time, so this may be a short lived summer replacement series.
Jeff (the mild-mannered one) said on June 6th, 2008 at 10:17 am
Hummus-based humor? I may have to see that after all, but i’m waiting for the “X Files” movie, and “Get Smart.” That’d put me over my usual summer cinema ration right there.
Steve Carrell as Maxwell Smart … if only Don had lived to see it!
colleen said on June 6th, 2008 at 11:01 am
I sometimes have the same reaction to crowds. “Ugh. The great unwashed is right. literally”. (And I AM using literally correctly)
Saw “Swingtown”. I enjoyed it, though my husband the 30 year commercial radio guy pointed out the songs they used that had NOT been released in 1976, when the episode was taking place.
I don’t think they were doing that stuff in my neighborhood when I was growing up. And if they were, my parents weren’t invited!
brian stouder said on June 6th, 2008 at 11:36 am
urban myths built upon suburban myths.…hmmmmm
Say, doesn’t CBS own Showtime, or some other big cable content provider?
Maybe the strategy is to build the show on broacast tv, and then put the nudity and so on, onto cable (like Big Brother After Hours)
coozledad said on June 6th, 2008 at 11:38 am
Our first house was in a rural area that was being steadily developed because of its proximity to both Raleigh and Durham.
One of our neighbors had a car alarm that went off around 2am practically every day. Maybe their cat or a possum was triggering it.
I used to wonder why they didn’t just disable the thing at night, but that was rendered moot anyway, once our flock of yardbirds exceeded eighty or so. Out of thirty roosters there are going to be at least ten who can’t distinguish daybreak from the middle of the damned night, and once one starts, all hell breaks loose. This gets the guinea fowl worked up, along with the peacock, and before you know it you’ve got Musique Concrete. My wife always said they were working on a twelve-tone opera called “Empty Dixie Cup Dispenser”.
LAMary said on June 6th, 2008 at 1:02 pm
I’ve got a park behind my house and a basketball court. It closes at ten and the lights go out, but I can always count on the same asshole and whatever friends he’s currently got to show up around 1 am, play basketball, scream “fuhck” every thirty seconds or so, and break beer bottles. The asshole is now 37. I’ve been listening to him do this since 1986. I complained to his mother then. He still lives with her and has not had a job for more than two weeks as far as I know. No college, no job, just sleep most of the day, smoke a lot of weed, and scream, “fuhck” behind my bedroom for two hours every night. He finds new friends to replace those who grow up.
Yvette said on June 6th, 2008 at 1:44 pm
ENTP here, Nancy. Still, I have those days, too.
I’m a closet Adam Sandler fan — well, not THAT closeted — but that “Zohan” description really makes we want to check it out.
I do have my standards, though. I didn’t see “I Now Pronounce you Chuck and Larry.” Sorry, Sandman.
Scout said on June 6th, 2008 at 7:42 pm
LA Mary — great story! Still laughing!
Dave said on June 7th, 2008 at 2:52 pm
I used to work with a guy that somewhat fit that description, LA Mary. He did work at the same place for a couple of decades but threw it all away in a fit of foolishness and said he would no longer be a corporate slave. But what made me think of him was that as he aged, he kept up with younger and younger friends and the latest youthful fashions.
Nowadays, I hear he is very regretful and has passed 50 and not doing very well.
LA Mary said on June 7th, 2008 at 11:34 pm
My kids know I think this guy is a pretty low form of life. He’s the sort who will threaten you if you tell him to keep the noise down. Devoid of redeeming qualities. He told his mother it was Mexican gang kids who were doing the things I was blaming him for.
One time after a teacher conference, when I was told my son had not made the effort to come in early to retake a test to get a better grade, I told him loudly I would not be like that kid’s mother. That if he wanted to be a useless layabout, he would be out of the house at 18. I think it scared the shit out of my kid. Being compared to Jess. The worst thing I could have said. He was shaking.