In other news: You know that Chuck Colson award I talked about yesterday?
Yeah, that one.
Several of you said, "I don't get it. Did I miss something?"
You would be those who are either 1)Logical, linear thinkers 2) New Readers Here.
At any rate, I did not check my skewed sense of humor, and I caused a big red question mark to form behind your eyes.
Against my better judgment (Because what joke, good or bad, ever gets better when explained?) I'm going to tell you why I chose this award as a joke. (Like a tour of my brain.)
First of all, I was hung over from the ISWYS party the day before, so I was sorta loopy. That condition set the stage, right there.
Secondly, I don't do awards (give or receive) very well, so this one comically (I thought) reinforced my award-reticence. Also, although I was completely ga-ga over the fact that you all did such a wonderful job on your vids, I didn't want anyone to think I was suddenly all about giving everyone a real award because that would be, well, dumb.
Thirdly, I Googled "award" or something like that, and Mr. Colson's award appeared, and it cracked me up for several reasons, although I know Mr. Colson is a person of stellar character at this point in his life. No joking aside, I know that the man is a noble man. Just his award cracked. me. up. And so, I knew I would have to use it somehow, some way, and the complete random association with ISWYS once again, cracked me up. And that is the story behind the Chuck Colson award, which you will probably see again from time to time in 2009 when the mood strikes. Because, just look at it; it rocks:
(I know Dave Barry would get this. I just know it.)
Still more News: My daughter and I went to see "Bolt" the other day, just the two of us, in a tiny theater that was sweltering, for some reason.
I still can't believe my 16 year-old went with me and no one else because on her list of "who I'd like to hang out with" choices, I think I rank somewhere just above Chuck Colson.
Maybe that's because I remind her constantly about how when she was little, she used to say, "Let's go to the 'movity theaty-er,'" which is the cutest thing ever. (Insert daughterly eyeroll.)
Or maybe it's because I can't keep the names of movies straight, as in I kept calling this movie "Balto" (1995) for three days straight before we went:
"Hey, Kristin, when are we going to see 'Balto'?" "It's 'BOLT', Mom."
"Kristin, what time does 'Balto' start?" "'BOLT' starts at 3:50, Mom."
"Kris-teenyweeny, which cineplex is 'Balto' at?" "Showplace 7 is where BOLT, BOLT, BOLT is showing, MOM."
Anyway, because it was so hot in the theater, I had to take off my Old Navy fleece vest that I got myself for Christmas for only $5. Upon returning home with the vest back on, Jorge informed me that I had a giant price tag hanging from my left armpit.
Hmmm. Perhaps this could be another clue in the mystery of why my kids don't want to hang out with me.
Have you seen "Bolt?" It was pretty cute, but we like dogs a lot. The movity was really clean, with the only questionable moment being when two dogs sniffed Bolt's "bo-bo," as we in our home sometimes call the nether regions.
There was no proselytizing for greenness or other politically correct statements, which is pretty refreshing. The only concern I had was near the ending where the girl, Penny, and Bolt are in a burning building, and instead of Bolt leaving her, he lies down beside her, showing undying, yet dying, loyalty. That was sweet, but it crossed my mind that very small children might see that scene and in spite of all we tell them infer that they should stay behind in a fire for something/someone they love, instead of getting out. Many a child has returned to a burning home to fetch a pet.
How do I know this?
Because I am a student of melodramatic 70s TV such as "ABC's After School Special;" that's how I know.
And although this gives the plot away,
"Hey, we certainly can't have those cartoon heroes dying on us, can we, Linda?"
Linda: "No, we can't, Spencer," [chuckle, chuckle]
(This is news anchor banter.) (Turn head; cue camera three.) (Drop smile; cue serious face.)
Linda: "And now on to a more touching human interest story: When I was growing up, we used to eat cabbage every New Year's Day because it's supposed to bring you money; however, as far back into my family's history as I can remember, it mainly brought us gas."
Spencer: "That's unfortunate, Linda."
Linda: "Yes, and that was in the days before scented candles. But we never lost hope of obtaining cold, hard cash. No, we covered our noses with one hand and dove fearlessly into treacherous territory playing 'search the couch cushions,' all New Year's Day with the other hand, Spencer."
"Simpler times, Linda?."
"Ya, You betcha, Spencer. Made us stronger. In more ways than one."
[Simultaneous nodding AND shaking of heads to imply agreement and general disdain for today's families' lack of fetid New Year's traditions. Cue exit music.]
So do you have any special plans/traditions for New Year's Day?