Posts Tagged ‘Turner Classic Movies’

Mutiny On The Bounty

August 3, 2011

Thanks to the new battery in Ariel’s truck, I finally finished my tray of summer squash parm last night. I intended to do it on Monday night and I actually started to fry up my squash when I got the phone call that Ariel was stuck in the Stop & Shop parking lot with a dead battery. So, I went on my rescue mission after shutting everything down and finally got him jumped after about a half hour and by then it was too late to resume cooking. So, last night, right after work I got right down to cooking and without making a dent in the squash supply, I/we made two trays. In the larger one, we layered lasagna noodles throughout and the smaller one, since it didn’t have to cook as long, except to melt the cheese, was without noodles and we had some of that one for dinner along with yesterday’s bounty from the garden:

I got what I wanted, at least one ear of corn from the garden, just to know I would be successful and there are at least 5 more ears in various stages of readiness.  Joy!

Today is Bette Davis day on Turner Classic Movies’ yearly Summer Under The Stars celebration, so you know I’ll be glued to my set. Who, besides me, still says “set” in reference to a television?  Oh man, the other day, I was watching a movie on TCM, starring Ann Blythe, Farley Granger and Natalie Wood called ” Our Very Own” and the Macauly family was getting their first television and the deliverymen actually put it together in the house, from running the wire to the aerial on the roof to even installing the picture tube. I found that fascinating.  Nowadays we’re effortlessly watching TV on our cell phones. 

And things are heating up on One Life to Live. The long-awaited showdown between the two Todd’s has finally begun. Real Todd is back after eight years and claims current Todd is the imposter and vice versa.  Blair, Starr and Téa have confronted him, but we’re all on the edge our seats waiting until Viki comes face to face with real Todd.  Stay tuned!


Another Week Pinned Shut!

August 20, 2010

Another week over! Pinch me. It is Friday, isn’t it? Oh man, and we’re still on Zsa Zsa watch. I know there’s at least three of us just itching to get those points!

Isn’t it funny how dreams can sometimes seem real, even to the point of waking you up? I was jolted awake this morning out of a dream in which I was being attacked once again by birds. I can’t recall the instance, but for some reason, I had taken down a nest of  eggs that had been made on a piece of cardboard and was nestled in the crossbeams of one of those camping canopy tenty things that was erected in my backyard, only it wasn’t my backyard.  I needed the eggs to make a potion or a cure or something like that and I grabbed at the nest and knocked it to the ground. In my dream, I know I didn’t know what type of eggs they were that fell to the ground, but I  also knew I kind of had an idea they were pigeon eggs. As I stood pondering the species, a swarm (no, that’s not right–well, it wasn’t exactly a flock, it was only 3 or 4) of pigeons came at me and one started pecking away at my butt. I woke up trying to flail my way away from them but my arms were trapped under my covers.  I’d had this brilliant idea recently that perhaps the reason I can’t get up and get out to walk is because it’s too cold with the air conditioner blowing and who wants to get out of bed when it’s cold? But the extra blankets only make me wake up in a sweat, but I leave them on, hoping against hope that my plan will actually work. I’m sure the eggs reference has something to do with the great egg recall of 2010 and quite possibly I’m still reeling from Walter Pidgeon Day on Turner Classic Movies’ August Under the Stars yesterday.  

Well, surprise of surprises, the Lou-natics showed up out of the blue yesterday afternoon and put in quite a few hours. I hadn’t talked to Lou since the inspector was here this past Monday and I reviewed with him what the guy had told me. The way I describing it, Lou said it was commercial grade specs the guy is after rather than residential. And the one inspection he insisted we needed before going any further was already done. I didn’t realize it until Lou told me and I checked my “approved” tags and sure enough, that particular inspection passed on August 9…and by the very same person. Hmm, is right!

I had the picture of the finished roof, where they left off before their extended time off, to show you and I took an “artsy” picture of the addition. If you call looking through the overgrown evergreen bush and hardly being able to see the new structure artsy. And then I have what they did yesterday and we’re all up to date.


Speaking of booby traps: Two 14 year-old Parisian girls were arrested and a 12 year-old accomplice was placed in a home for stealing money from cash machine customers. They first tried to distract their first victim by sticking a newspaper under his nose, but ended up having to resort to opening their blouses and revealing their breasts and grabbing his nether regions while the accomplice grabbed the money. They used the same tactics on a woman a few days later.

Two videos:

This first one I’ve been seeing on television during the day while I’m working.

It makes me titter (pun very much so intended). It’s an interesting product, and I’m sure a useful one but the approach they use seems to be too heavily concentrated on covering up rather than accentuating which leads me to ask, why wouldn’t you (generally speaking) just wear a better fitting top if you don’t want the entire world to see what’chu got? And I’ve never seen a hole that size made by a safety pin.

And this second video happened to pop up while I was looking for the above one and it, too, made me laugh.

Have a great weekend. It’s sure to be a dry one, we’re not camping. Although we do have a family function to attend, so we’ll see.

A Few Things For Sure

August 19, 2010

It’s been a busy week, plowing through piles and piles of work, with no apparent end in sight. But, that’s fine, it keeps my mind from wandering, as long as I remember at the moment of inception to write down important things that manage to come into my head, to wit: a card for a certain occasion coming up that we need to acknowledge. Jokingly we were told if we didn’t send a birthday card this time, like we didn’t for Father’s Day, we’d be replaced by some other set of  “sons number 4 and 5”. We couldn’t let that happen. The birthday is two days from now and I figured I’d get the card while I’m out on Friday afternoon. Sure it would be a few days late, but, thanks to Ariel, the card is on its way.

Busy as I am, every now and then a stray thought will come into my head, something to recharge the batteries, so to speak. I was watching Turner Classic Movies yesterday; it was Ann Sheridan day in their August Under The Stars line-up and it’s doubtful that had anything to do with it, other than to set the scene, but I had this sudden urge to try to make that ‘fart’ sound from my armpit that I used to do as a kid. It took a couple of tries and a variety of hand placements, but I got it going. And I laughed my head off then got back to work.

I also did my daily check on that agent lady’s status, to see if she was once again accepting submissions. A week or so ago, maybe three, the one page I was looking at completely disappeared, but I found her status on the agency’s main website and it was listed as “until further notice”. Yesterday morning, even that page was changed to say she was no longer with the agency. I did a quick Google search, found her own personal blog and sure enough, she’s left agenting altogether and has gone to work for another undisclosed publishing house in an undisclosed capacity.

Okay. This interesting little tidbit flashed across my screen and I decided to explore it further and in so doing, I got more confused, but this is what I got out of it, so don’t hold me to it. The word “OKAY” is said to have originated by Irish supporters during the re-election of President Martin VanBuren, changing the spelling of “all” in “all correct” to “oll korrect” to imitate the Irish brogue. Some also say it alludes to VanBuren’s nickname of Old Kinderhook, from his birthplace in Kinderhook, NY. Another source says it came from the Choctaw ‘okeh’ which means ‘it is so’.

I’m going with the Irish theory, simply because, well, I’m Irish. But who knows how these things really get started and how they have their holding power? Fo shizzle. Peace out!

I Don’t Have A Title For This Blog

December 29, 2009

Perfect timing. This is the last of my baby pictures and this is the last Baby Picture Monday of the year. I hadn’t planned it that way, it just happens that’s how it worked out. Actually, there is one, well, two more pictures in that stash I came across; one is my high school year book picture and one is my cap and gown picture, but they’re not really baby pictures in that sense, but they were taken when I was 17, during the summer before my senior year. Maybe one day next year I’ll put those up, if you beg me enough to see them. In the meantime, this is me at 7. I think I finally grew into those ears.  (What the hell? ) At least I’d like to think I did.

Yesterday I heard of an intriguing story that I learned was already about a year old only to find the story was first broadcast on the news in 2004. It concerns a young boy by the name of James Leininger whose parents were convinced was reincarnated from fallen WWII fighter pilot James Huston Jr. From a young age, James Leininger was consumed with airplanes until one night they began to give him nightmares. He would wake up screaming and would tell his mother, Andrea, “Airplane crash on fire, little man can’t get out.” Another time, Andrea bought her son a toy airplane and pointed out something on the underside that looked like a bomb, but the boy corrected her, telling her it was a drop tank. The family maintained the youngster’s television viewing habits were only children’s shows and that no conversations about military history took place in the house, nor were documentaries watched on television. On advisement from a therapist, as the boy shared his “memories” with his parents his worsened nightmares became less severe and less frequent yet he was becoming more articulate about his “past” and most of his recollections came at bedtime when he would be drowsy.

Among young James’ remembrances were that of his plane having been hit by the Japanese and he crashed, that he flew a Corsair and that it always had flat tires. He also noted the name of the boat he took off from, Natoma, and the name of someone he flew with, Jack Larson. After some research, Natoma and Larson turned out to be factual. Young James also said he was shot down at Iwo Jima and his crayon drawings would be signed “James 3”. Bruce Leininger, the boy’s father, learned there was only one pilot killed at Iwo Jima–James M Huston Jr.

The late pilot’s sister, Anne Barron, was contacted by the Leiningers and she, too, was convinced of the phenomenon, as there was no way the young boy could have otherwise known the things he spoke of. She gifted young James with a bust of George Washington and a model of a Corsair aircraft, effects of her late brother’s that was sent home after the war. Perhaps the pilot’s mission in the afterlife has been carried out; telling what happened, because the boys vivid recollections are beginning to fade as he gets older.

Upstart Miley Cyrus is now condemning Angelina Jolie and Madonna for allowing their children to be on camera all the time. Hmm, Miley “Hannah Montana” Cyrus’s television career began at the age of 9, had recently pole danced atop an ice cream cart (it was art) and gotten tattooed (in memory of her friend who died of cystic fibrosis). Oh, but wait, the worldly 17 year old hasn’t had any children of her own yet to be so judgmental, not that she has a right to be shooting off her mouth given she’s a child star purposely in the public eye.

How to store your baby walker: First remove baby.

Looks like rabbit ears are making a comeback and more than 13 million American households watch TV the old fashioned way, and for FREE. Apparently, dozens of channels are available. This new antenna, which can range in price from about $5 to nearly $200 (depending on the its complexity) also needs the help of a TV that can process a digital signal and if it’s an older set, a converter needs to be installed. So, it’s kind of like going “digital” in reverse. It’s a one time charge as opposed to a monthly one and if Turner Classic Movies would be available through an antenna, I’d almost consider it. Hmm, but maybe I’d be able to find a rerun of I Love Lucy, which is nowhere to be seen on any of the I don’t even know how many channels I have on my cable. But I’ve got all The Golden Girls I could ever want–8 hours a day on the Hallmark Channel alone!

Braille Dictionary.  Must see to appreciate.

As part of the new flying safety regulations since the recent (failed) terrorist bombing attempt, passengers cannot get out of their seats durinig the last hour of their flight. Nor can they hold anything in their laps. Nor reach for anything in the overhead compartments. Really? Will that help? Well, first of all, if everything was screened and assumingly correctly to ensure nothing of any consequence got on the plane (which is the bigger issue here) why can’t a passenger continue reading his book or magazine, or keep his chilled legs warmed with a blanket? Utterly ridiculous. If there’s going to be security checks, then check EVERYONE and EVERYTHING. The last time we flew, my carry on bag was rifled through and tossed aside, leaving me to have to repack it (not an easy task when you’re being pushed and shoved by others in a hurry), my pants nearly falling to the floor because I had to remove my belt. Then I would have been arrested for indecent exposure. My mother, who was being carted around in a wheelchair (for swifter mobility through the airport) had to be searched. Ariel, with his belt firmly around his waist, went through, without so much as anyone looking into his bag.

This will make us all feel better. It was announced yesterday that with or without Simon Cowell, post 2010, the show will go on. Fox TV is putting the finishing touches on a deal to keep American Idol on beyond the end of its contractual run in 2011.

Today the exterminator is coming to see what they can do about our stink bug problem. Ordinarily I would be squeamish in admitting I have a “bug” problem, but everyone I talk to is in the same situation and they’re not going away. The only thing is, I thought they were coming yesterday. I called them to see if they could come on Thursday, hopefully before we went to Newark but the time window they gave me would be cutting it too close and they had nothing on Saturday and I’m this certain I repeated out loud so Ariel could hear it when they told me it would be Monday. Four hours after they should have been here, I called and was assured it was set for today. Same time frame. Who’s right? Who’s wrong? Who cares, just get rid of my bugs.

Technology vs. Common Sense

September 14, 2009

I pride myself on having a modicum of common sense and in a sense we can add this quasi-oxymoronic qualifier “know enough to come in out of the rain” to today’s title.

This past Saturday was a dismal drizzly day and we were having a friend over for dinner and most likely a rousing game of Turner Classic Movies SceneIt? sometime afterward. A rousing game it was, too, and I’m still recoiling from not knowing a particular movie clip was from Judy Garland’s “A Star Is Born”. Shame. Shame on me. Among the things we were involved with during the day aside from cooking were laundry, finding the paperwork for my adding machine so I would know exactly what type of ink replacement I needed and working together on trying make the driveway alarm work properly. It’s a new one and supposedly fool-proof. Of course, as with all things technological, it seems we are the two fools who can manage to foul things up. I’ll spare you all the intrinsic details but it will suffice to say our neighbors must think us nuts watching Ariel drive up and down the driveway while we test the thing, each of us with a phone to communicate as to whether the buzzer sounded or not. This scene has been played out at least once a day over the last week. Finally, after making height and angular adjustments in the rain, it seemed to be working.

Since we needed a few last minute things and bird feed from Stop & Shop (the one I won’t step foot inside even though it’s 5 minutes from my house) I decided to go along and look for my adding machine ribbon at the Office Depot in the same shopping center.

“When you’re done in there,” Ariel said, “I’ll meet you at the dollar store,” where we were looking for disposable aluminum pans to freeze all the food we cooked. Parked equidistantly from both stores, we went our separate ways and I realized suddenly, I had left my phone at home. It’s a long story, but I panic these days when I don’t have my phone, but we’d be away only a few minutes and be back home and I reconciled myself to that fact. But what if I needed to confer with him about something. Cripes!

Round and round the store I searched while the one salesman on the floor was helping someone with computer questions. I knew I should be able to find the ribbon myself, I’m not really that much of a moron. Rememer? A modicum of common sense? I heard the customer thank the salesman for his help and as I turned, someone else had already nabbed him. She was all giddy and joking about what type of cover for her cell phone she should get. Geez, lady, shut up, I need adding machine ribbon. You’d think scouring the displays by the adding machines might be helpful, but I looked, to no avail. Again, thank you, but someone else got his attention. Finally, he directed his attention to me, and led me to the spot I had passed at least three times and, oh, look at that! Replacement ribbons.

I paid and went next store to get the aluminum pans at the dollar store and no sign of Ariel. He must have gotten delayed at Stop & Shop. No surprise there; he’s always got a story of how some knucklehead doesn’t know how to use the self-check out registers. I don’t either and don’t plan on learning, but that’s an entirely different matter.

I waited by the truck and the drizzle was a little heavier now. I thought I could go stand under the awning (marquis, overhang–take your pick) at the entrance to the grocery store, but I didn’t even want the solace from the weather it would have provided, that’s how much I can’t stand that store. If only I had my phone, I could find out what was keeping him. I finally relented (having sense enough to come in out of the rain), ever watchful for Ariel to exit. I knew I had taken a long time at the office supply store and possibly I missed him in the dollar store, that maybe he was looking at other cheaply priced stuff. But then, while I was reluctantly keeping dry, I thought I spotted him in the distance entering the dollar store, (maybe he was looking for me in Office Depot) but before I walked up that way to see if it was him or not, I had this brilliant sudden idea to see if the stuff he bought at Stop & Shop was already in the truck (because I was certain he wouldn’t be carting around a 20-lb bag of bird feed, a bag of ice and a container of vanilla ice cream) and if it was, (and it was indeed) then that was him I just saw and I’d go up and meet up with him. If only I had my phone. And why I didn’t think to peek inside the truck when I was first standing there, stubbornly refusing to get out of the rain, I could have been hunting him down that much sooner. That’s how robotically conditioned we are that we can’t survive without the tether to technology.

As it turns out, he had been to the other dollar store at the opposite end of the shopping center which is the only one he knew about and was heading to Office Depot when he came upon the dollar store I had gone to. I assumed since this new one was so bright and shiny (even though they sold aluminum trays without lids and Ariel got ones with lids at his dollar store) was the new location of the one he was in. I know, it’s so confusing. And what’s the idea of two dollar stores in one shopping center, anyway? Oh, no, wait, the other is a 99 cent store. My mistake.

And here’s a non-sequitur that I just have to weigh in on: I just now saw a piece on the news that further lays proof that Kanye West is a big fat loud mouth douchebag. During Taylor Swift’s acceptance speech last night for her best music video, West interrupted her to announce he thinks Beyonce should have won, that she had one of the best videos of ALL TIME. What a tool!

And it’s McGinty Monday.