Posts filed under ‘Fond Memories’
My other blog, Spanish Phrase of the Day, was inspired by my Cuban heritage. My grandparents emigrated from Cuba in the early 1960s and created a wonderful life here in the United States.
My grandmother passed away today at age 94. Her husband died in 1999, so it is nice to know that they are together again. I don’t usually get too personal on SPOTD, but I did write about her and wanted to link to it here.
One of my son’s favorite movies is The Incredibles. He fancies himself a speedster like Dash and loves to demonstrate how his little legs can move.
One of the themes in the film is how everyone loses when people are not allowed to be their best selves. It is a philosophical sibling in some ways to Atlas Shrugged.
The trend towards a toothless and bland populace may be traced back to the early 1980’s, with toys and films that affected an entire generation. From commentator Eric Snider–
In the 1980s, the Care Bears were a major contributor to the wussification of America. Children who once roamed the streets barefoot, playing with broken glass and poking dogs with sticks, were now taught to share their feelings and to care about people. Fun cartoons like G.I. Joe reminded kids how satisfying it is to kill others; lame cartoons like The Care Bears said, “Let’s all sit around and talk about our hopes and dreams!” And what were the consequences? Everyone born since about 1975 thinks they’re “special” and “important” and “unique,” when in fact most of them are “ordinary” and “useless.” Thanks a heap, Care Bears.
The Care Bears Movie is a disturbing glimpse into an Orwellian future where caring reigns supreme and good old-fashioned misanthropy is forbidden. The Care Bears — emotionless, ambisexual drones who frolic nakedly in the clouds and giggle in a most unsettling fashion — rule Earth with an iron, furry fist, spying on citizens in a search for the slightest hint of uncaring. Each Care Bear is named according to its personality: Friend Bear, Cheer Bear, Tenderheart Bear, Pansy Bear, Wuss Bear, Big Fat Crybaby Bear, etc. There’s also the gloomy Grumpy Bear, who is clearly a genetic defect and must be looked upon with pity and loathing by the others of his species.
Much deep reflection is prompted by this pop culture cancer. It does make one wonder- What kind of bear would one be?
I hope none at all. Maybe the hunter who shoots the bear and makes a rug.
I liked this retrospective on the now-30 year-old Sony Walkman. Check out this page to see more of that first, brave model. It was very expensive, at over $500 inflation-adjusted dollars!
I remember borrowing my dad’s enormous SPORTS Walkman. Not only did it play cassette tapes, but it also had an FM Tuner.
Still, for a long time, the Walkman was the most practical and attainable personal musical device. I think I owned this model, near the APEX of Walkman technology, enjoying Kris Kross and other great music.
Happy Birthday Walkman!
JL and I were guests at a wonderful wedding this weekend. As a male, I dreaded the thought of attending said wedding. However, much good came of the event. Friday evening we were special guests at the rehearsal dinner hosted at Maggiano’s Little Italy. We mixed and mingled for about an hour before dinner and one guest, a man, caught my eye.
He was seated at the table diagonal ours so I could stare at him throughout the meal. Then, around the entree, it hit me. I didn’t know if I should say anything, at the risk of embarrassing myself. At first I thought of mentioning something to the guest next to me, as a sort of trial balloon. Instead, I swallowed my pride, leaned over to my wife and said, “That guy looks like he could be my brother.” Since she can’t/doesn’t want to hear anything I say, she responded, “He doesn’t look like Jon.” So I spelled it out, “He looks just like me. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off him all night.”
“You’re right,” she shouted. I was fascinated and totally freaked out.
JL raced over to his table and shared my thoughts with his entire table, he sort of agreed but was definitely uncomfortable.
Then, I turned to the side and it hit him too, just like Haley Mills, or Lindsay Lohan for you kids.
After dinner, we started to talk and things got weirder. We really hit it off. My twin is like 7 years younger than me, but he’s majoring in Economics and we talked about Financial Econ till the sun came up. Well, not quite, but we could have. Needless to say, a little more “me” was all the weekend needed. I had a great time, I swept myself off my feet. As we parted ways in the hotel Saturday night I said, “There goes one handsome guy.”
*Parent Trap photo from Amazon.com.
Pardon me for pimping my own blog, but I don’t think you’ll mind.
Share your expectations on the other side (or here).
I had the pleasure of spending some time with my cousin the last couple of days, whom we will hitherto refer to as C-dub. C-dub is a friend of JL’s from school, and a LIFELONG friend of Joe Miller. This story never fails to amaze me. It also makes me want to invest in pharmaceutical companies.
C-dub was dating this young chippy (whom I never met as I was already in Big Oil) but JL and Joe Miller both had the pleasure. The relationship lasted about 7 months, but C-dub wasn’t that into it, so Chippy broke up with him. It happens. Nothing crazy yet.
Until one week later, in the periodicals section of the library, C-dub sees Chippy, and approaches her to say hello (and basically confirm that they are going to still be friends). He never got to that question. Chippy YELLS in the library, “STOP TRASHING MY NAME TO EVERYONE!” and storms out. Eyes are all on C-dub, as they try to figure out what he possibly did to this quite vocal girl. C-dub gets out to follow her, and she walks back in, and pulls C-dub between the book shelves and starts, what may be, the most classic breakup rant of all time: “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOUR FACE! I HATE YOUR VOICE! I NEVER LOVED YOU! I’VE BEEN HANGING OUT WITH ALL THESE OTHER GUYS THIS PAST WEEK AND AM HAVING WAY MORE FUN WITH THEM THAN I EVER HAD WITH YOU!” And this went on for 3-5 minutes, when C-Dub finally said, “Yeah, I’ve been hanging out with other girls this week and feel the same way.” So she goes to SLAP him. The one and only time a girl has tried to slap C-Dub, and he PROUDLY blocked it (genetically our family is quite gifted. We have catlike reflexes). The block made her furious and she stormed off.
One week later, he sees her on campus, Chippy approaches him and says, “You know why I’m looking at your crotch?” C-dub can’t believe what he’s hearing… she continues, “BECAUSE I WANT TO KICK IT!” Oh man, who else can I use this most CLASSIC line on? My old landlord? Lots of people from Big Oil, naturally.
And then, a few days later, he sees her outside of the biology building and at this point, she has heard that when C-dub was contemplating the demise of their relationship, he made a list of reasons to break up. She wanted this list and was CONVINCED that it was in a binder in C-Dub’s back-pack. So all 5’2″ of her JUMPS on C-dub’s back, trying to BODY TACKLE HIM to get the backpack, hence the piece of paper, but C-dub does NOT fall to the ground, and her whole psychotic campus body-tackle attempt was all for naught.
I reminded C-dub that the college years are when most mental illness sets in. Regardless, this girl has something the rest of us will NEVER have: kahones enough to tell a man she’s looking at his crotch because she wants to kick it.
Posted by LeMare
Some snippets from the Hollywood mission field:
Trying to stay up on pop culture: I am sure that we have all seen posters for Beowulf! Guilder’s favorite book, and possibly mine after scripture. Is it indeed R? It may be R, just likeshould have been with some pretty objectionalbe lyrics, such as “It must have been my wicked childhood” and scenes of great intensity and dancing.
A touch of celebrity: I should mention that‘s personal assistant is in my Relief society.
Remembrances of home: The other day I was wielding my pink ruler around my head like a battle axe to frighten my companions, and I recalled a time when [little sister] told [Dad] that her “Female” friends were coming to pick her up. She tried to skulk out the door to get in to a car with two MALE friends, and [Dad] called her on it: “Uh, Nick, how did your two girl friends become boys? how does that happen?” He then proceeded to stand in the doorway resting his masculine frame on a sword, plastic covered, but a sword nonetheless, until the scallywags reversed theirand left. Ha!
Picturing her departure: i should like to take this opportunity to discuss my voyage home. i have now decided that I shall walk home, in bonnet, just as the pioneers. Just kidding. If Dill is up for it, it would be nice to be met with a pressed plush jumpsuit, a Winnebago (or Airstream) and‘s greatest hits. i shall provide the snacks and sandwiches. The Mormon Trek Backwards Revisited shall begin at the Trump Gold Course (I know one of the less-active workers). Anyway, frivolous details, just know that I shall be greatly disappointed if I end off on an airplane. Just know that when a mohawked sister appears on your doorstep in a mustard -toned plush suit on, you’ll know it’s me.
Requests to the outside world: Would you be so kind as to send more manny pictures to me, of the process? My companions keep me up at night with their questions. The latest phase of the healing process is “Sister Hollywood’s Story Time” during which period I tell stories, one was about Manny, and the sisters need more of a visual than your website print out.