Monday, February 28, 2011

What Ever Happened to Class?

Really, ABC, Really?
Last night the 83rd Annual Academy Awards aired on ABC. I watched it from beginning to end. I always do, even the years when I haven't seen any of the movies that are nominated. It's Hollywood's big night, and we, by the magic of television, get to attend the party. It's a fancy party! Everyone's dressed to the nines, and it's all very glamorous and elegant, and until last night, most years I have seen it, it had class. Enter ABC's "brilliant" idea to make the Oscars younger and hipper by picking two young actor's to host, Anne Hathaway, the Princess of Princess Diaries and James Franco, friend to Peter Parker/enemy of Spiderman. I should have known it would be a disaster the way ABC kept hyping both of them as the hosts of the telecast as soon as they were announced with cutesy little commercials of their witty repartee and adorable banter. However they fell painfully short during the live telecast as they were neither witty or adorable. James Franco was in one word, BORING! He never changed his expression, and he wasn't even that great to look at. The faded gray tuxedo they had him in about midway looked dirty. Maybe he was searching in the dusty archives for some personality from one of his Oscar host predecessors. Anne Hathaway looked beautiful. I will give her that, but as boring as James Franco was, she was way over the top acting like a giddy, starstruck schoolgirl. She would introduce a star, and then yell, "WHOO HOO!" like she was at some High School pep rally. After she introduced Steven Spielberg to present the "Best Picture" Oscar and yelled "Whoo Hoo," I half expected her to run over an high-five him. The lowest point of the evening was when they sent James Franco out in drag as Marilyn Monroe in her famous pink "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend" ensemble. At this point I felt like I was watching a bad variety show that goes for cheap laughs. I still watched it because it's the Oscars, and I wanted to see who wins, but I was embarrassed for how incredibly bad it was. What ever happened to class, decorum, elegance? Whoever was in charge of last night's fiasco lost sight of all of those. I pray they find their way back before next year's telecast or we may hear the announcer saying, "Please welcome your hosts for the 84th Annual Academy Awards, Snooki and the cast of "The Real Housewives of New Jersey"

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Sometimes Life Just Sucks

No one's life is perfect, and no one ever said life was fair. This is not going to be a poor, pitiful, me post. It's not going to be about how bad my life has been or is, quite the opposite, actually. I was talking to someone recently who's had a tough road lately, and they said something that really made me think. They were talking about how they were trying to "keep it all together" and how they were "trying to act like everything was okay" but they didn't know how much longer they could go on like that. It made me wonder: When did we all get the idea that if things are going wrong, we have to pretend that everything's fine? Why are we so afraid to be honest with each other, with ourselves? Why does everything always have to be perfect, and why do we consider ourselves failures if things aren't going so well? Sometimes life just sucks, and if life is kicking you in the ass, you're not obligated to turn around, smile and say, "Thank you." I'm not saying to wallow or bog yourself down in self pity, but be honest with yourself and admit that life, at this particular moment, is dealing you a bad hand, and it's not okay, and it's not fine, but you will get through it. If you pretend like everything is fine when it's not, you'll cause a whole new set of problems. We do such a disservice to ourselves and especially to our children when we set unrealistic expectations of what life should be. NEWSFLASH: Everything is not always fair. Sometimes you actually lose. There will be times in your life that make you sad, and there will be people in your life who will hurt you. I paint a pretty dismal picture, don't I? WRONG! I paint a realistic one. If we spent more of our down times focusing on how to get through rather than waste all of our energy trying to make everyone believe that we're just fine. If there were never bad times, how could we ever appreciate the good? When you're treated unfairly, be that much more determined to treat others fairly. When you lose, take the opportunity to work on the areas where you may have fallen short. When someone hurts you, it may seem like the end of the world, but dwelling on it only hurts you. It doesn't affect them at all. A world where nothing ever goes wrong and everything is fine doesn't exist. There is no Utopia. I'm fine living in the real world with its good and bad. I have a great life. It's just not perfect, and I'm okay with that.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

True Beauty

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder"
 "Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it." ~ Confucius
"Beauty comes as much from the mind as from the eye." ~Grey Livingston
"Do I love you because you're beautiful,
Or are you beautiful because I love you?"~Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II, Cinderella

Recently I had an occasion to speak with a young girl who had an experience where someone in authority at her school implied that she was fat. When she shared her story with me, I was appalled that anyone would say something like that, let alone someone in authority. She was highly insulted and rightfully so. I remember years ago going to see a High School production of "The Music Man" The student actress cast as Eulalie was not a size 2. She was big girl, but extremely talented. If you know the show, you know that Eulalie's character description in no way lists that she is to be overweight. That's not a defining part of her character. However, this director had chosen to use this girl's size as the running site gag, and several references were made during the show, references that are not in the script, to her size to get a cheap laugh. I remember leaving and thinking how sad it was that 1. the director had put this impressionable young girl in this very demeaning situation, and 2. that she felt she had to go along with it. Now, most of my life I have been a "Big" girl. And most of my life I have been acting. I have never been asked to put myself in a situation that used my size to solicit laughter. All of my colleagues in theatre have always treated me with respect. My friends, my co-workers, see past my size to what makes me beautiful, the person I am inside.
Why are we, as a society, so down on people who are larger? And larger compared to what? Who set this tiny size as the norm, no, the standard? I am not going to get on a soapbox about the media, so don't worry, but I will say this. The images we are bombarded with every day 24/7 are near impossible to be like. Yet there they are. You need to be pretty in life to get what you want. You need to be tiny to be beautiful. If it isn't that way, why are we spending so much money in this country trying to turn ourselves into these air-brushed, touched-up images? Please don't think that this is a blog about bashing people who are smaller. It's not.
Emme - One of the first Plus Size Models
The real issue here is RESPECT. Respect for others and respect for self. People come in all shapes and sizes. Their size and shape is not who they are. If we all had the gift to see from the inside out, what a different world it would be.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Hosea, Can You See?

The title of this post is actually the punchline to a joke about the National Anthem. Of course, it's a play on the words, "O, say can you see," penned by Sir Francis Scott Key . Our National Anthem, what does it mean to us as Americans?  To me it is a symbol of freedom, of courage, and of the triumph of the human spirit in pursuit of independence. I'm a sap, as I have shared many times before, so it will be no surprise when I reveal that I usually tear up any time I hear it. Last night at the SUPERBOWL, I am sure many people teared up, but not out of a sense of awe or patriotism, they were in pain from the fact that their ears were bleeding from the terrible sound emanating from Christina Aguilera that was supposed to be the National Anthem. I have nothing against Christina Aguilera. In fact, I think she is a very good singer, but she wasn't singing last night. She was screaming. Forget the fact that she messed up the words. If she had gotten every word perfect, it still would have been an affront on the hearing world. First of all, I personally hate it when any artist tries to "pop" up The Star Spangled Banner. It's a difficult song to begin with.  We don't need you riffing all over the place, so that you can somehow fit every note in the scale to show off your vocal range. The song performed just as it was written showcases plenty of vocal range, 1 1/2 octaves. This may be news to Ms. Aguilera, but she was not asked to sing the National Anthem at the SUPERBOWL to make it sound like Genie in a Bottle. In my opinion, being asked to sing the National Anthem for ANY event is an honor, and should be treated as such. NEWSFLASH: It's not even about you. It's about the song itself. It's about respect for the flag and what it represents. I would rather they not even show the singer. The camera should be on the flag. That's where everyone in the stadium is supposed to be looking. So, Christina, if, by some miracle, you are EVER asked to sing the National Anthem again, do us a favor: 1. Learn the words! Write them on your hand, or your sleeve or have a cue card, something and 2. Just sing it straight and simple and clear. We've had it as our anthem for 80 years. We don't need you to improve on it.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

The Blizzard of '96 Brought Me More Than Snow

15 years ago today I was packed and ready to go. There was at least 20 inches of snow on the ground. Richmond was in the middle of a blizzard. Luckily the snow had stopped for a day and we would be able to get to our destination. No, I wasn't going skiing at some mountain resort I was going to the hospital. I was scheduled for a C-Section delivery of the "Tiny Baby After Christmas" Since I hadn't found out if I was having a boy or girl, that was the name we had given our little expected one. I was originally scheduled for February 2nd, Groundhog Day, but the doctor wanted to go out of town and re-scheduled for Thursday, February 1st. Maybe he was going to the mountain ski resort. We arrived at the hospital at 7 AM, and my baby was born at 8:16 AM (coincidentally the same time her sister was born 3 1/2 years earlier but 8:16 PM). As the doctor said as he pulled my baby out, "Indoor Plumbing."It's a girl! I was very happy. She was healthy, and I was thrilled to have 2 little girls.
This little girl had no idea what was ahead of her. Neither did I. Her father left us when she was 2, so I have always been the only parent she has really ever had day in and day out. She is the personification of the uttered curse or blessing as the case may be of "I hope you have one just like you." She is my mini me. We are alike in so many ways. We have always been close, but she is my "sparring partner" I can always count on her to keep me in line, and if she doesn't like something I'm doing, she doesn't hesitate to tell me. She is the epitome of "asking forgiveness rather than permission." When she was about 6 she came downstairs from her bedroom and asked could she draw on the wall with marker. I turned to her and sternly said, "NO!" to which she replied with a guilty grimace "uhhh" She always had an explanation for everything, and I used to tease that she needed a T-Shirt that read, "But I just......"
We survived the marker-on-the-wall years, and she has grown into an amazing young woman. She is beautiful, smart, and talented beyond belief. She has the most beautiful singing voice I have ever heard. She's a talented artist and takes gorgeous photographs. But more than that she is one of the most compassionate people I know. She has such a caring heart, and she has been there for me more times than I can count. She has been, at one time or another during her 15 years, my confidante, my advisor, my advocate, my defender, and my protector. Mostly she is my friend. Happy Birthday my sweet girl! You will always be my baby.

We'll Never Get to Heaven Till We Reach That Day

 I first saw the musical, Ragtime, several years ago at the Dogwood Dell Festival of the Arts. Both my girls were still in elementary school...