Miss Potter

I heard a review of "Miss Potter," Renee Zellweger's new film about a little bit of Beatrix Potter's life. It made me smile. First off, it made me remember those cool little books about Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail... The little books with the satiny pages. I loved the paper they were printed on! Isn't that a weird memory? Anyway, Cheers to Peter Rabbit and his cute little blue coat.

Has anyone seen the film yet? I don't think it's come to my neck of the woods yet.

Treading Legos

OK Go was bound to produce a few treadmill video spoofs - but this one has got to be the best - and all I can say is that SOMEONE has a lot of time on his/her hands!!!!

Here's the original, if for some reason you missed it (I won't point any fingers, but you know who you are!) (\../)

Fully Loaded

I recently had lunch with a former co-worker of mine. We worked at a television station together - and had a lot to catch up on. For example, he told me he purchased a replica Volkswagon Beetle Herbie the Lovebug. He takes it to charity events, and was recently invited to the premiere of "Herbie Fully Loaded," along with all the other replica Herbies across the nation.

I asked, "Um, Bob - after the event, I assume you walk into the parking lot into a sea of Herbies. How do you know which one is yours?"

Bob: "Well, on MY Herbie, the interior is wrong..."

Oh how I miss Bob.

My favorite Bob story happened about 11 years ago. Bob agreed to go with me to pick up a manequin a that a local department store was willing to sell. I wanted to use it on a show set. Before we left, I grabbed a football jersey (so I wouldn't be driving through the streets of Allentown with a naked manequin in the back seat of my recently purchased car. It just didn't seem like a good idea). "Kelly," chided Bob. "You don't need that silly shirt. We'll be fine."

I stuffed the shirt into a bag anyway. I'm no dummy.

We parked in the department store's deck, and went to retrieve the manequin. There she was, in a seated position, with her head propped on her hand. She was as bald and naked as the day she was manufactured. I pulled the shirt out of my bag as Bob picked up the manequin.

You must, at this moment, imagine the scene: Picture a seated manequin in the arms of a live man. Bob looked as though he was about to carry his plaster bride across the threshold. It was more than a little unsettling, yet hysterically funny at the same time. "Bob, please let me put the shirt on her."

"Don't be ridiculous, Kelly! I'll put the manequin in the car... You get the parking ticket validated, and we'll go to lunch!"

"Oooooookaaaaay..." I watched as Bob carred Nudie Trudie to the elevator.

Moments later, I validated the parking ticket, and rode a crowded elevator to level four of the parking deck.

The door opened.

There stood Bob... Manequin in arms.

Time stopped. The people in the elevator froze. This cleary was not what they were expecting to see in a parking deck.

Bob looked sheepish: "Kelly, I couldn't find your new car!"

I bit my lip, but it did no good. I burst into hysterics - which of course, freed the rest of the elevator riders to do likewise. My eyes were watering, my stomach ached, and yet the sight of that man carrying that naked manequin kept me laughing all the way to the car.

"Do you mind if I put the jersey on her now?"

"By all means, Kelly... By all means."

Hip to Be Square

Yesterday, Dave asked me to take a drive with him - he was playing a gig in Delaware with our friend, Don. I thought it was going to be interesting - Don asked a bunch of musicians who never play together to come and play together... I always wonder why that works out - but in Don's view - he only asks musicians he thinks are the best (which thrills Dave's bass-playing soul to know he's included in that category). Anyway - it usually works out pretty well for Don, so I kind of admire the hootzpah he has for not going through the work of having to do band practice every week - yet always being asked to come back and play again...

Anyway, I looked at the directions - it said they were playing at St. Andrews School... It said they were providing the background music for a square dance. It was all instrumental.... Isn't that crazy? Who's ever heard of a private high school sponsoring a square dance. I immediately discussed the matter with Audrey, salsa dancer extraordinaire... "It makes sense. America doesn't really have it's own group dance. Those kids NEED square dancing."

Ok. Before I get any further, I have to tell you what I only found out when arriving at St. Andrews - it was the school "Dead Poets Society" was filmed at. Isn't that weird? It's a lovely place - lots of lush lawns and gothic architecture... looks like a lot of schools in the east coast prep-type school region... (Here's a production still I found on the web - I have more photos -but I took them with Don's camera - and will post later when I get them back... And the dancing photos came from St. Andrew's website)

Back to the issue of high school students and square dancing. I met the caller, a guy named Alan - who liked to talk - so I asked, "Do students really like this?"

"Oh yes, he said, "When the Student Activites committee started this, they needed something to wear the kids out on their first night before classes. So they simply went around, told the kids they'd have a good time - and ever since then, the upper classmen just told the new students it was fun..."

I don't know that I believed him - but at 7 pm sharp, the hoarde of 300 or so students rushed the field, stood in a big circle, and waited for instructions. After the prerequesite do-si-do, prominade left and so forth, the kids enthusiastically formed squares and danced for the next few hours. They were so into the square dance, that even after their breaks, they, without being called, returned to the field, stood in squares, and waited for the caller to begin again. Who knew?

Dave: "If they asked my kid to do that, she'd be standing off to the side with her girlfriends thinking it was stupid..." But the truth is, if square dancing IS indeed, stupid, it's also fun - or so it looked from the faces of the kids who not only did the dance, but did all the dances, and loved doing them. They even made their best attempts at looking "western..." (which in some cases meant rolling up jeans and wearing wife beaters.)

So swing your partner, do-si-do - carpe diem and away we go...

_________

PS - On a final note of how different this shool was from MY school experience, the weekend "Dead Poets Society" hit the theaters was also the weekend I was slated to march in my high school graduation. I BEGGED my mother to let me go to the movies and skip the ceremony... But alas, she said the same thing when I volunteered to skip my college graudation, "Kelly, I did not suffer through four years of your education to miss your graduation..." So I had to wait until later to watch Robin Williams stand on a Desk at St. Andrew's School. I guess I'm just not a joiner - is that so wrong?