Thursday, March 05, 2015



When I first read Joe Tarica’s column on our beautiful bridge bear being vandalized, I had a flame of anger.  Then I felt a wave of fatigue and thought, Oh, why bother? This is just another story about another loser asshole in a world filled with loser assholes.  Indeed, we are awash with them.  Some are famous world leaders, others crazed religionists bent on world conquest, but  most are run-of-the-mill annoying bumps on the world's backside.

I'm sure the people who did this, if they're caught, will have some kind of explanation, but you can bet on one thing:  It will be a loser asshole reason – banal beyond belief:  their Mommie didn’t get them the toy they wanted, they’re angry because they didn’t get the job thy delusionally felt they were entitled to, their car wouldn’t start, somebody recognized them for their basic loser assholeness and dissed them, they’re just having a bad day.

I have no doubt there was more than one loser asshole involved in smashing the nose off the bear. Fueled by booze or drugs and their own pathetic sense of self entitlement, they set to work.  I have no doubt either that they thought what they were doing was funny.  Their way of getting back at a world that keenly acknowledges their assholeness.  Take that!  Thinking somehow that this act of stupidity will improve their lives.  Give them some momentary triumph until the sad reality of their looser existence returns.

It’s a dull story, retold all around the world in ugly acts that range from our little bear’s broken nose to the psycopathic hooting of murderous Jihadi pseudo-warriors smashing ancient treasures, and sawing off heads while grinning at the camera.  Look at me! Look at Me!

Asshole losers all. The world is filled with them, more’s the pity.  I can only hope the police catch whoever broughtthis pathetic looserness to our beloved bear.  I suspect, it will be like the last time assholes visited our town and smashed the bear.  They were never caught but the town rallied and raised the money needed to recast and restore our treasure.  The Chamber of Commerce owns the molds and an anonymous donor has offered $1,000 for information leading to the arrest of those responsible.  Additionally, the Chamber may be starting a fund drive to restore out bear.  Contact them at

Let’s hope that the community of good people who live ere are wiling again to do the work needed to overcome the sad effects of loser assholes and a new bear will once again take its place looking out over our splendid marsh. 

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Get a Mirror!

It's one of the abiding mysteries why too many stars trekking down the Red Carpet to the Academy Awards are so fashion challenged.  Seriously.  They're professionals working in a visual medium.  Their work depends on seeing.  Yet, oddly, too many of them suddenly go blind when looking in a mirror.  Surely, in Hollywood, everybody knows somebody who knows somebody who knows somebody who knows basic fashion?  Or call up the costume designer on your last film and ask for help?  Or, if you can't afford to pay for that service, and if you're going to be on that red carpet, wouldn't you think you'd at least call a brutally honest friend to ask, "Does this dress make me look stupid?"

Like, did nobody have the heart to tell the beautiful Marion Cotillard that while wearing her very, very expensive white Dior gown she had apparently sat down on a very large patch of black duct tape that was now stuck to the bottom of her butt?

Granted, dressing women of a certain size and age can be a challenge.  But it can be done.  I give you two words:  Oprah Winfrey.  That Queen of Zoftig knows how to get Spanx-wrapped and go full out Diva. Not so lucky was Patricia Arquette.  She looked like she had been out in her yard in a too-large white tee-shirt and oversized black pants, her hair grabbed up in a scraggy bun to keep most of it out of her face while she washed the family's laundry in a big bucket, when the phone rang, reminding her it was the Red Carpet hour, so she dropped what she was doing and came as she was -- a hot mess. And take a closer look at her "gown" and you'll see something that looks like it was made at home using an old Singer, by someone who doesn't know how to sew very well -- cheap satin, seams showing. Oh Dear. 

If she actually paid somebody to make her look like that as she headed for the microphone to get her much deserved Oscar, then she should put a bucket of shame on their head. And one on her own. But, alas, too many stars believe their fashionista dressers (huge pay-off money in that let-me-pay-you-to-wear-my-loopy-designs business).  And the result is, too many beautiful ladies earn the ultimate, but much-deserved, acid critique: "Poor Dear, you just had to buy that dress, didn't you?" 

But there was one fashion stand out:  Neil Patrick Harris stripped down to his tighty-whities in a spoof of  Michael Keaton's underwear stroll down Broadway in "Birdman." Basic simplicity in fashion is never out of style and it doesn't get more basic than that.

As for the Oscar show itself, it was one of the best ones I've seen in a long time -- plenty of glitter, plenty of heart-felt and often genuinely sweet acceptance speeches, (Eddie Redmayne's spontaneous little kid  happy-dance at the microphone, Graham Moore's touching and encouraging speech to all the "weird, different kids" out there).  And, best of all, with so many great movies and nominations, all of them worthy,  it was impossible to feel too disappointed by any losses.  It was an embarrassment of riches. 

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Sunday Post

Keep your eyes open to your mercies.  The man who forgets to be thankful has fallen asleep in life.
                                              Robert Louis Stevenson

Sunday, February 15, 2015

Sunday Post

The charm, one might say the genius, of memory is that it is choosy, chancy, and temperamental:  It rejects the edifying cathedral and indelibly photographs the small boy outside, chewing a hunk of melon in the dust. 
 Author Elizabeth Bowen

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Media Credibility LOL

An, poor Brian Williams.  Sent to Coventry without six months worth of nice salary, the chorus of "Boo, Boo! Booooo!" ringing in his ears, some of which are coming from his colleagues who've been waiting for his take down  for some time.  To them, he wasn't NBC's hyped-up "Most Trusted Newscaster in Television,"  he was an ego-puff in an expensive suit, That Guy who never lost an opportunity to remind everyone in the room of his Wonderfulness.  And for guys like that, it's just a matter of time.

Add in the fact that Williams is a very sharp, funny man and a terrific raconteur, and it was all just inevitable. The seduction of being a celebrity, of being the talk-show guest that everybody who's anybody is clamoring for is a temptation few can resist.  Add in the utterly unreliability of memory, the lure of embellishment when telling entertaining tales, and you have the  recipe for disaster:  Ego, spotlight, fungible memory, the unalterable demands of fiction.  It's the banana peel on the top of the stairs time.

Well, no harm, no foul.  The fake hero is disgraced and gets to eat humble pie, his fellow journalists get to preen in their (as yet) unsullied ethical mantles, NBC gets a lot of publicity, the public gets confirmation for their belief in the fakery and unreliability of all news organizations, cynically tossing babies and bathwater alike out the window (thereby making running the long con on them even easier), and stand-up comedians have a field day. 

And instead of using Williams as a wake-up call and demanding (and getting) better news, the public flips the channel and settles for stories of lost kittens and 24/7 coverage of sex-drenched murder trials.  Everything back to normal in Alzheimer Nation.