I pray for dead people....

If I may, for a blog, or two, get serious...thanks...

During our church service, we have what is called the “Prayers of the People.”

These are intercessory prayers where we pray to God for people who are sick, for our family, for our leaders, for the homeless and hurting, for parishioners, for thanks for birthdays and for those who have died.

Each prayer has a beginning, a pause (so you can fill-in-the-blank), and then a response.

It is during the prayer for the dead, that I toss out some names in my head, and then say my response.  For a moment, in a blog, in 2012 – I want to acknowledge those who have died.  As someone once said:  “As long as someone is remembered, they never really die.”

So in the silence of the service, these are the names and mini-stories behind them.

“Steven.”  As weird as this sounds, I’ve never met Steven.  When I was a teenager, I had made  friends with a couple of other teenagers at my church.  Kathy, Daphne and Joe.  Daphne had a brother named Steven.  Steven and Daphne were children of Bert.  Bert had married Myrna and they adopted Kathy and Joe.  Myrna and Steven (as step parents do) did not get along.  At one point – and I don’t know how much in the past it was – Steven and Myrna got into a fight and Steven went down to the basement.  Pulled out a pistol and shot himself.

The whole family was devastated.  But not so much to buy a headstone.  My stepfather is buried in the same cemetery as Steven and I can’t recall if the family ever did buy him a headstone.

“Kristin.”  Kristin was one of my many platonic friends.  And when I say many...I have/had many women friends.  My women friends out-number my male friends almost 2-to-1.  I don’t really know why...other than that I’m a good listener.

Kristin went to my church-wide youth-group – HYC.  Filled with a couple hundred kids, it was within this group that I would eventually meet Miriam.  During a six-day retreat I became friends with Kristin and we bonded over the typical things I bond with female friends about:  Their annoying boyfriends.  I listen as they bitch and complain.  I give them advice and they make their choices.  I used to talk to Kristin on the phone for hours consoling her in her boyfriend troubles.

She died at 17 years of age in a car accident.  She was the first person I ever knew (other than a grandparent) that died.

   Kristin on the left, Margaret on the right, friend Jim standing.

“Loring.”  In the early 1980’s I started working in law and on a case called the WPPSS litigation.  This was, at the time, the biggest class action suit in the country.  To handle the millions of pieces of paper – the law firm I worked for created a place called “The Database Management Center.”  This company that, at one point, worked 24-7, hired dozens and dozens of temporary workers.  It was pretty common to walk into a room and see a “Bible Thumper” working next to a hippie pot-head, working next to a middle-aged Indian man, working next to a 24 year-old sorority girl.  It was, now that I look back on in the glow of memories, a pretty amazing place.

Loring worked there as a copy-guy/coffee maker/go-fer – much like myself.  So we bonded.  He was quite a bit older than me, lived in Mountlake Terrace, married, once was on “the Gong Show” and he was involved in the B’Hai faith.  Little did I know that he had AIDS.  Within six months of being diagnosed he was dead.  It was my first time of watching someone wither away and I was confused by everything.  This was still in the early years of AIDS – 1985.  No one really knew what to do or how contagious.  All I knew when all was said and done – was that Loring was dead and he was a really cool guy.

“Susan” was another friend from church.  When I was 15 or 16 I started going to St. David’s in North Seattle.  There were my friends that included Kathy and Daphne and Joe – but then there was Susan and her friends Sandra and a couple others.  These girls were “older” and when I mean older they were FOUR YEARS older.  Oooh.

Susan, for some reason, found me a bit attractive and took me under her wing.  She wanted me to experience new and exciting things and nothing was more new and exciting than going to see “Rocky Horror Picture Show” at the Neptune Theatre at midnight.  This is the only time I can remember ever being what I would refer to as “ahead of the curve.”  In other words, “Rocky Horror” had not become this BIG POPULAR THING FOR HIGH SCHOOL STUDENTS.  It was still mostly for stoned college students and it really hadn’t taken off into the mainstream – like being featured in the film “Fame” and showing up in an episode of “Glee.”  It is, honestly, the only time I was slightly hip.

Susan died due to complications of diabetes.

“Lorian” – Lorian is my latest addition.  In all the years I’ve taught my screenwriting class – I usually have a mix of people who have a certain idea of how to write or have gone to film school or actually, maybe, have a bit of experience.  Lorian was one of those people.  Not only had she lived in L.A. she had also directed a short film about Alzheimer’s and, AND, not only had she done that – but she actually had published a book of interviews with directors and writers.  This was a person going places.  This was a person on the verge of success.  This was someone I needed to get to know.

She took my class and we had many a talk and she asked me to help sell more copies of her book and, as with most of my friends (Susan included) – I slowly lost touch.

When a book on screenwriting came across my desk – the author mentioned Lorian as he had been interviewed for her book.  I thought this would be a great opportunity to track her down, send her an e-mail, find her on Facebook.  But...I couldn’t.

Finally doing a Google search of her name, I read that she had killed herself.  It was quite a blow.  Both to me and the author who mentioned her in his book.  You see, she was also a skilled photographer and he has the photo she took for her book hanging above his desk.

                                  The cover of Lorian's Book

A few months later I opened up my old briefcase that I used to take to the college for my classes and found flyers that she had created for me to hand out to students to help her sell her book.  Maybe if I sold a few more copies of her book she’d still be alive?  I don’t know and I kind of doubt it.

“Leland” – my step father.  Though he didn’t enter my life until I was 7 and exited my life in 1988 – he was a vital part of it.  Being a step-father, he and I had numerous issues about all sorts of things – it wasn’t until after I had moved out that I appreciated SOME of what he did to help me grow up.

“John” – my actual father.  Even though we had a bit of a falling out in the last couple years before he passed and the photos of his home office showed that he’d become a hoarder later in life – he was still my father and deserved prayers and respect.

“Hazel” – this is my brother’s mother-in-law.  Early on in their marriage I found Hazel to be a bit annoying – if I’m being honest.  She was loud and brash at times and someone that had a tendency to grate on me...but over time she stopped grating and started growing on me and I came to appreciate her love of NASCAR and life.

And then the catch all:  “Grandparents” – to include all the grandparents who had some influence on my life.

Life goes on and sometimes death raises its very predictable head in sometimes unpredictable ways.  Who knows if I’ll be remembered in some sleepy-haze prayer on a Sunday morning someday...I could hope.

And for all those whose names may eventually be inserted – know that I truly appreciate you and all that you’ve had an impact on me.

What the hell is Quinoa?

Losing weight is simple.  Eat less and exercise more.  The bottom line is that if you’re eating 1,500 calories a day but burning 1,600 calories a day, you’ll lose weight.  Simple.  But...life can get complicated.

                                 Note:  SUPREME Nutrition

 Recently I started a new work-out routine:  The “Supreme 90!”  It was a 10 DVD set for $4 at Big Lots.  I figure that I’ll get my $4 worth out of it.  And, having done it now for two weeks – I can say that it’s challenging, sweat inducing and, golly, fun.  Each work-out is about 40 minutes and when I’m done I’m usually dripping with sweat (ewwww) and feeling a nice endorphin rush.  Not only does it come with the 10 DVD collection, it also comes with a poster and an eating plan.  The host reminds you at some point during your work-out:  “Don’t forget the eating plan – you want to get ripped – it involves both the exercises AND the eating plan.”

I have a simple rule when it comes to recipes.  I read until they either put in an ingredient I don’t know or don’t have or, usually, both.  At that point I don’t want to waste the time and energy to go purchase whatever godawful thing I’m supposed to go buy to make whatever.  I don’t have chick peas, I don’t have parsnips, I don’t have tilapia.

  Tilapia!  You can almost just smell the rotting fish...can't you?

While waiting to go to dinner last night, I decided to look through this meal program that came with the Supreme 90.  Right up front, they have a “shopping list” for me to look at.  Simple.  I just have to go out and buy...bison, venison, Kifel, pumpkin oil, quinoa, etc.  Excuse me?

I glance at the meal plan.  One of the meals I’m supposed to eat involves five or six egg whites.  Seriously?  I give myself 30 minutes, or so, to shower, dress and eat breakfast in the morning and I’m supposed to split egg whites from yolks AND cook them up?  And that is in addition to doing the first thing I’m supposed to do in the morning and that’s drink four glasses of water.  Seriously.

What happened to the simple:  “eat less, exercise more?”

So not only am I supposed to find Kifel in the dairy department...I think...I’m supposed to find quinoa (which I think is pronounced:  KEEN-wa) up at my local grocery store.

Quinoa!  In its "toss at the back of the head of the kid you like" state.

Here’s what gets me, though, is that the rules keep changing.  Used to be that you weren’t supposed to eat eggs because of their massive amounts of cholesterol, but that, I guess, is due to the yolks – you can eat the whites all you want.  Eating oatmeal is good for you....but wait...it’s NOT.   You have to eat STEEL CUT oatmeal.  Really?  And let me guess:  Cheap oatmeal = $1 a container.  Cheap steel cut oatmeal = $4 a container.  And is there that much difference after all?

Let the battle begin!

There was a time when the mantra was that you needed to eat more salad.  Okay, salad, good.  I like salad with a little French dress---oh, I’m not supposed to put the dressing on.  And then the ice-burg lettuce was suddenly bad for you.  But it’s a SALAD!  No, no, that TYPE of salad is bad for you.

High-Fructose Corn Syrup v. Sugar.  Margarine v. Butter.  Paper v. Plastic.  It’s enough to make anyone crazy.  Oh, and that better not be bleached refined sugar, either.  Or Salt v. Iodized Salt v. Sea Salt.

Supreme 90 plan?  Pumpkin oil.  Where the hell am I supposed to find pumpkin oil?  And, again, one quart safflower oil = $2.  One quart extra virgin olive oil = $8.  One quart pumpkin oil?  $20?  I don’t know – I’ve never had a need to buy pumpkin oil.

You just want to take a swig...don't you?

I don’t know if I want to get “ripped.”  I don’t know if I want to have “guns.”  I don’t know if I want to get “toned.”  I do know that I want to eat whatever the heck I want to eat as long as I’m also doing exercise to counteract the amount of caloric intake.  You see:  SIMPLE!

Two Dollar Key-Chain

From the “No Good Deed Goes Unpunished” category – I bring you my latest blog.

My mom turns 79 in a few weeks.  She’s getting “up there” in age and I love her to death…but she’s been enormously trusting the last few years and that has got her into trouble.

You see – she just seems to kind of assume that if someone does something for you and hands you a bill…you pay it.  No questions asked.  Even if it SEEMS to be a bit high on the dollar side – it must be correct…right?  Maybe she grew up in that “no one will cheat you out of a few bucks” generation – but it usually means that I, or Miriam, have to come in and clean up the mess.

A few years ago, my mother decided that she wanted to get on the internet.  She spends, probably, an hour a day on the internet – but she wanted to upgrade her Verizon package into a high-speed internet behemoth.  She’s using a cast-off computer that we gave her when we upgraded and why she needs the highest speed internet, I do not know.  But it’s what the salesman told her and, by gum, that’s what she is going to get.  At the time, I think, we were still on dial-up!

                                                     Verizon....the bastards

Verizon comes out, installs the high-speed internet, tacks on a couple more fees and…done.  She gets her first bill and it’s nearly $700.  Now, I see something like that and I’m on the phone to Verizon ripping someone, ANYONE, a new one.  At the very least I’m drilling down to the details and figuring out how/what/what got me to that $700 amount.  Anyone?  They’re a phone company for Goshsakes – you can call them!  But…my mom paid the bill.  It was only after a few weeks she finally admitted to Miriam and I that she even got the bill in the first place and it “seemed kind of high.”  You THINK?

What happened next was a bit of a surprise, though, because she called Verizon to talk about something else and the customer rep there saw the bill and wondered why it was so much.  Seemed the install guy had actually charged for the free install and he actually charged for the free high-speed router and he tacked on an “insurance” fee in case the internet went dead or something or other.  Seeing the error of their ways – they paid my mother back.  Kinda.  Seems these companies just do NOT like to write checks – so instead of cutting a check to pay someone back – they credit your account.  It seemed, at this point, my mother would be getting bills of $4.00 for the next 18 months to make up for the astronomical over-charge but, nope.  Suddenly she’s getting normal bills or “slightly lower” than normal bills.  A quick call to Verizon and they’re like:  “oh, don’t pay that bill, we’re making other arrangements” – or something.  So then she wouldn’t pay that bill – only to get a letter saying that she better pay her bill(s) or they’ll shut off her package (which, of course, includes her phone and her television).  I’m calling Verizon, she’s calling Verizon, everyone is calling Verizon.   Finally it all gets shaken loose and Verizon finally cuts her a check.  For $00.02.  Yep.  Two cents.

Verizon is no longer in the internet/cable business.  It’s now “Frontier” and they, too, have had their sketchy moments.

This story, though, segues into my father’s “half” funeral.  My father died a few years ago and had half of his ashes buried in Japan and wanted the other half of his ashes buried in upstate New York where he grew up.  My brother and his family, my mom, and my family from Japan were all going to the funeral.  We could only really afford for me to go.  The flight(s) would be pretty simple.  Seattle to Chicago.  Chicago to Rochester.  Rochester to Chicago.  Chicago back to Seattle.  A couple quick phone calls and I was the proud owner of e-tickets for approximately $300.  A very good deal.

My mother has been with AAA ever since I can remember.  It has saved us numerous times (and still does).  I remember the trips we’d take camping and we’d use “trip-ticts” (the precursor to mapquest.com) and we’d have AAA camping guides that would give you the run-down on whatever camping sites were coming up in Podunk town.  Many an hour we’d pour over those two items, looking at our itinerary and hoping that we’d stay at the KOA campground with the rec room (pinball machines) and heated pool and not at the National campground with the pit toilets and frigid cold stream access.

                               See!  Travel with AAA is fun! 

My mom LOVES AAA.  When it came time for her to make arrangements for her flight for the half funeral – she went to AAA to make them.  There were only a couple differences in her flight and mine.  Difference one is that she wanted to arrive in Chicago on an earlier flight to meet up with my half brother and sister and she was going to leave a day or two later.  Still – no prime days of travel.  No weirdnesses in layovers.  It was as basic as mine – except for arriving a tad earlier in Chicago.  Cost:  $800.  Wait…what?

I figured that the cost would be SLIGHTLY higher.  Not $500 higher!  But…my mom pays for it…no questions asked.  I went apoplectic:  “What do you mean $800?!  Are you kidding me?  Did you talk to them?”  She’s been a member of AAA since the mid 1800’s (or seemingly so) and she’s OLD!  Doesn’t she discount for, at least, being OLD?

Realizing now that I’m some sort of monetary/travel genius, it just made sense that now I would become my mother’s travel agent.  Never mind that all I did was going on the internet and find the same deals she could have found on the internet…her high speed, very expensive internet.

Finally in the fall of 2012, my mother and her sister decided they wanted to take a cruise up to Alaska for my mother’s birthday and for the experience.  Good for them.  Now it was up to me to find them the best deal.  But…there was a hitch.   And that hitch is a $2 keychain.

                               A Key-chain - with a boat

Over the years, my mother has volunteered for a place in Seattle called the “Mission to Seafarers.”  Basically it’s an organization supported by the Episcopal Church and others to provide a place for sailors from around the world can get off the boat, hang out, watch TV, play pinball and relax.  Maybe get a ride into downtown Seattle.  Make a phone call home.  Internet access, etc.  My mom would create what she termed were “ditty bags” with would contain a toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, candy, etc. to give to these various world travelers as they’d relax off the boat.

Because the “Mission to Seafarers” is growing organization – they need to do fundraisers.  One of the fundraisers they do – is a lunch on a luxury cruise ship.  For $50 you get a nice lunch, a few drinks, watch a promotional video and a “tour.”  And the money goes to the Mission.  Note, I put the word “tour” in quotes because, when we went on one, it’s basically some guy saying:  “feel free to walk around the ship – just be off by 3 p.m.”  And then we’re all left to our own devices to wander aimlessly, avoiding people coming on board with their luggage, and just getting a feel for the environment.  No actual person leading us around and showing us things:  “Here’s the casino – over there is the Lido Deck – we’re walking by the on-board theatre...”  Nothing like that.

It was on one of these lunches where my mother wandered into a gift shop.  While there she fell in love with a key-chain with the boat on it.  And, golly, she wanted that key-chain.  But, for some reason, she either didn’t have the money – or she wasn’t allowed to buy it because she wasn’t an actual passenger on the boat – she couldn’t get the key-chain.

                         Another perfectly fine key-chain.

When it came time for her to call me, her new travel agent, to make plans for her cruise to Alaska she made it very clear to me that she had to travel on THAT boat.  Why?  She wanted that darn key-chain.  I asked her:  “So, if I can find you a boat that is like, a hundred dollars less – but it’s not the same boat – you still want the boat with the key-chain.”  “Yes” was her response. $100 savings v. $2 key-chain and the key-chain wins.  And, I’m sure, those other boats have just as nice boat key-chains.  Done and did.

All I have to say is that if she goes and doesn’t buy that damn key-chain, I’m not being her travel agent anymore.

Movie Review:  “Bummer” and “Johnny Firecloud”

The 1970’s were an interesting time for Hollywood filmmakers.  The 1960’s saw the arrival of the rating system and the subsequent explosion of exploitation films.  Hollywood had finally figured out the best way to fight against television wasn’t to make films in 3D, or to make films bigger (Cinerama) – but to sell people with sex (thank you “Psycho”).

So, suddenly, sex was something that not only could get you an audience but something that you could also explore.  The fact that “Midnight Cowboy” won the Best Picture Oscar AND be “X” rated to boot this seemed to herald in a new kind of film…the exploitation film.  Certainly exploitation films had been around since the first flammable film stock wound its way through a shutter, but filmmakers like Roger Corman started exploring films that were just straight up EXPLOITATION with a capital EX.  In other words:  sex and violence and nudity layered on top of a threadbare plot.  Usually these were done in a way with a wink to the audience and a smile on the face and you weren’t supposed to take them seriously.  Crown International Pictures continued these films with such classics as “The Van” and “Pom-Pom Girls” – exactly what you think they are.

                                       Notice "X" Rating 

But then, a few films were made that tried to cross a line from exploitation to SERIOUS while also keeping their exploitation roots.  In other words:  “Let’s have a lot of sex, nudity and violence but…let’s preach them a message, too.”

As filmmakers like Coppola and Scorsese and Kubrick and Cimino were making SERIOUS SERIOUS films like “The Godfather” and “Taxi Driver” and “Barry Lyndon” and “The Deer Hunter” – other studios took notice.  These were cutting edge filmmakers at the tops of their games.  They were being handed awards right and left (okay, not Scorsese) and they were completely dominating the market – a market much different than it is today.  So no wonder other companies and/or filmmakers wanted to give this a shot…while also keeping their exploitive roots.

But…here’s the problem.  If you go to see a product, if you go to buy a product, you don’t necessarily think that what you end up with is, well, what you wanted.  Take for instance that you want a pepperoni pizza.  You don’t necessarily want to go and pick it up and take a bite and have it taste terrible because the pizza maker decided to make it with organic flour and free range chicken pepperoni and unsalted cheese and vitamin enriched sauce (because they want to make it good for you).  You want a pepperoni pizza – it doesn’t have to be good for you.

I’m reminded of the 80’s film “Last American Virgin” which sold itself as a raunchy teen comedy and ends up being a pretty serious film.  Who wants that when you want some T&A?

“Bummer” and “Johnny Firecloud” are those “exploitation with a message” films.  “Bummer” is about an up-and-coming rock band.  Never mind the obscure logic and reasoning behind most of it as they’re supposedly REALLY HOT but…aren’t (and their music sucks).  Enter a couple young groupies and before you can say bong-water they’re all getting down and getting funky.  There’s one problem, though, and that’s the fat creepy bass player who also owns the “tour” van.  He’s got some serious head-case problems and treats the groupies and other hangers-on like dirt – calling all the women pigs (and worse).  Now, of course, logically, the other members of the group would tell the fat bastard to just take a hike and get the hell out but, for some reason, they just kind of “let it go.”  All the while he’s drinking alcohol and driving, etc.

        "A far out trip thru a hard rock tunnel."  Really?

Due to his bad behavior, a gig they were supposed to have for a week – gets them cut short to just a day and they’re back on the road.  Again, no one confronts the guy, no one really does anything.  And, even though we’re getting the normal exploitation of sex and nudity – we’re getting the undertones of:  THIS IS SERIOUS!!  I won’t spoil it for you, but rest assured it doesn’t end on a happy note and more than one person is killed.  Bummer.

I would say out of five joints, I’d give “Bummer” a one and a half joint.

The next film “Johnny Firecloud” is cut from the same cloth.  This film, though, had some serious backing as 20^th Century Fox distributed it (and possibly produced it, too).  Most studios kept exploitation films at arms length during this period.  No money to be made there (until “Jaws” came along – thank you, “Jaws”) but to see the searchlight stamp of approval, I was impressed.  They must have seen SOMETHING worthy in this film, though it’s not in Leonard Maltin’s Movie Guide.

Johnny is a fresh-from-Vietnam solider, returning to a small town as a war hero of sorts.  Still, though, he’s an “injun” and the town folk, especially the richest man in town – don’t care for these types.  Johnny’s grandfather, a former chief, has been reduced to mopping up a bar at night and being paid in whiskey.

                           "The Chief" - Johnny's grandfather 

Because of Johnny’s service to the nation – no one really picks on him too much – but it’s pretty clear he’s not liked.  And the only reason Johnny came back was to be with the evil rich guy’s daughter – who spends her time drinkin’ and depressed.  Seems she had gotten pregnant with Johnny’s baby and her father had successfully stopped all her letters going to Johnny and all his letters coming in.  Did I say he was evil?

                                                 Johnny 

Much like the film “Straw Dogs” (a Peckinpah film from 1971) – you can only push one man so far…until he fights back.  And finally, after enough cardboard characters do enough damage, Johnny begins to fight back – killing each one.  Sascheen Littlefeather (known to most people as the gal who refused Marlon Brando’s Academy Award for The Godfather) is another love interest or something.

                                        Ms. Littlefeather 

Where each character in “Johnny Firecloud” is, pretty much, a cookie cutter one-dimensional goofball, there’s one character that stands out:  The Sheriff.  Played by David Canary.  Now, I had gotten to “know” David Canary from having watched years of the soap opera “All My Children” and he was great as Adam Chandler.  In this film, he’s portrayed as a guy twisting in the wind between doing the right thing and doing what the rich guy wants.  The rich guy controls him because he had a bit of an “indiscretion” in the army and was caught with another guy.  What I found refreshing about this angle is that it doesn’t overwhelm the story.  He doesn’t go off on how it’s “all made-up” or “I’m not gay!”  or “I like women!!”  He just says:  “I got kicked out for being a homosexual.”  And that’s that.  What could have been the elephant in the room is just handled very honestly and to the point.  Typically in exploitation films, things are not handled honestly and to the point – they’re exploited for all their worth.

                      David Canary subtitled in Swedish - I think. 

When Johnny Firecloud finally starts killing all the cardboard characters, I couldn’t help but anticipate when he finally kills the big evil bad guy.  And… SPOILER ALERT…  he doesn’t – setting up for, I assume, a sequel.  Shrug.

Still for “revenge films” this was pretty good and it had the prerequisite exploitational moments that you would expect.  But, well acted – for the most point, with some thought out characters.

Out of five eagle feathers, I give it 3.5

Bing Crosby Going Ghetto

We’ve already established that I’m cheap.  Frugal.  Miserly.  And this is another blog compounding that fact.

I like my deals and I like Christmas and I like public domain stuff.

Even if items are not in the public domain – you might be able to find some other types of deals.  One deal I found a number of years ago was “foreign” tapes.

Now, for those of you who were born after, say, 1985, audio tapes and record albums ruled the day.  For a short while 8-Track tapes were popular but they fell out of favor pretty quickly when you couldn’t have a song longer than, say 8 minutes on one track and had to split it up.  Same went with 45’s (played at 45 RPMs – revolutions per minute).  I know, I’m bogging you down in minutiae that makes no possible sense now in the days of CDs and MP3s and “Cloud Technology” and IPods and bladdity-bladdity-blah.

 

                                           Standard Album

                                        Standard 45 RPM

                            Standard (and crappy) 8 Track Tape

One of my first CDs I ever bought was a Christmas CD at 5^th Avenue Records (loooooooooooong gone).

But back to foreign tapes.  I soon found audio tapes of Christmas music and other artists and other collections that were “manufactured in France” or “manufactured in Italy.”  These foreign creations were usually made up of popular hit songs but they were pulled from somewhere else.  Let me ‘splain:

Nat “King” Cole has a hit song entitled “Mona Lisa.”  It’s on an album, it’s popular but, somehow this other company finds a version performed on, say, the “Ed Sullivan” show and rips that and puts it on a tape.  I don’t know HOW they do this.  I don’t know if this is even legal, but somehow, in some way, I’m popping in a $2.99 tape of Nat “King” Cole hits and they’re mostly live performances from SOMEWHERE.  They’re certainly not off the studio album as the quality and the applause make that abundantly clear.  But these are rarities, just the same.  And, sometimes, the quality is fantastic and, well, you can’t beat the price.  And most, if not all, of these creations were FILLED with songs.  At least 12, sometimes 15, most of them 20.  Value AND Price – a winning combination – if you ask me.

Once I found these deals – I started grabbing up every collection I could find.  Hits from the 1940’s!  British Pop Hits from the 1960’s!  Nat “King” Cole!  And even rare early Frank Sinatra!  (Note, the cover photo of Frank Sinatra tape gave him brown eyes....when his nick-name was “ol’ blue eyes.”)  Silly foreigners and their weird possibly illegal music pressings.

A couple collections I got were of Christmas music.  Speaking of Nat “King” Cole – one of his most famous songs is “The Christmas Song” or more commonly known as “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire.”  Was THAT song included?  No.  These tapes had those classic Christmas Cole songs of “Happiest Christmas Tree” and “Mrs. Santa Claus.”  Not really your big hits.

When I was working at Miller Nash, long before the Internet and MP3s, I’d crank up the Christmas tunes with my co-worker Liane.  One of the songs on these collections was the Bing Crosby with the Andrews Sisters song “Here Comes Santa Claus” – a classic staple that you probably hear a couple dozen times during the Holiday Season.  Still...you probably haven’t heard THIS version.  The version where Bing Crosby gets all “Ghetto” on our Christmas timey asses.

Bing Crosby is about as white as white can be.  He plays golf, he croons, and he’s from Spokane for Chrissakes! 

                                   Standard Bing Crosby

But in this version of the song he sings a lyric:

“...Santa knows that we’re God’s Chillin’” Yes, that’s right, instead of “Children” he says “Chillin’”

Now, let’s ignore the obvious fact that we’re talking about “God” and “Santa” in the same sentence and this is quickly followed by the lyric:  “Let’s give thanks to the Lord above ‘cause...Santa Claus comes tonight!”  This blog is not a place to get into a God v. Santa smackdown.  Still....

                     Standard Bing with the Andrews Sisters 

Liane turns to me and says:  “What did he say?”  I was pretty oblivious at the moment singing along like I always do when it comes to standard Christmas songs but we rewound the tape and listened to it again.  Yes, it was Bing “Whiter-than-White” Crosby going all Ebonics on a classic Christmas tune.  And damn, did we laugh about this.

Over the years I lost touch with Liane (thank God for Facebook and we’ve finally connected again) but every time I would hear this song...I would think of Bing “Gettin’ Down with the Sistas!” and think of Liane.  Even if it wasn’t this EXACT version – because I’ve never heard this exact version played on the radio (I assume the company who made the tape pulled if off of some USO radio show in the 1940s).  And every time it makes me laugh.

Bing Crosby, Christmas, and “God’s Chillin’” – always good for a laugh or two.

                     Bing Crosby in Black Face - not so standard

Birthday Lunch

It always starts simple enough:  “Hey!  It’s so-and-so’s birthday, and we’re going to lunch.  Want to come?”  “Sure!”

Of course, when you’re going to a birthday lunch, it’s implied that the birthday gal or guy doesn’t have to pay.  That the group going is willing to pitch in an extra buck or buck-and-a-half to pay for their lunch.  Hell, you only turn XX once in your life.  The least your friends can do is toss a dollar in a hat and pay for your greasy burger.

But...what starts simple typically doesn’t end that way.  The gathering of 10 or so people (nine who have to pay) works their way to the local burger joint or pizza place or whatever and sit down to eat.  One of the persons looks over the menu and decides:  “Oh, gee, I want to get an appetizer” and before you can say “ka-ching!” the $8 appetizer is delivered and added to the bill.  And what of the “water drinker” who doesn’t spend $2.50 on a Coke?  And then, when all is said and done, the remaining three people (usually including the bloated birthday celebrater) are stuck looking over the bill and wondering why, with tip, it’s still $5 short.  “Who got the appetizer?  Who got the $6 dessert?  Here...here’s a couple more bucks.”

When I worked at Miller Nash, these amazing Bermuda Triangles of Birthday Cash would happen so frequently that a secretary came up with an excel spreadsheet based on a menu e-mails and pre-selected food choices to come up with HOW MUCH YOU OWE (including gratuity and payment of Birthday celebrant):  “8.95.”  And I think she demanded payment in advance.  All “extras” like appetizers and desserts were the sole responsibility of the orderer and not placed in the pool of cash.

After I arrived at Heller and getting used to my new job as middle manager, an announcement was made that the managers were going to go out to a birthday lunch.  Sweet!  Should be fun.  The person organizing the lunch was gathering us all together at a local hotel restaurant (separate room, too!) and this would be a great way for me to get to know my fellow managers.  “Oh, uh, how are we going to pay for this?”  “Don’t worry, Matt, we’ll get it figured out.”

Having the Lunch Spreadsheet Secretary fresh in my mind I couldn’t help but see a few of us huddled over the receipt long after most had left trying to figure out who ordered the extra Caesar Salad.  The fear of tossing in a few bucks just to make it come out even was starting to well up inside but BUT the organizer said to not worry and “we’ll get it figured out.”

When we got to the restaurant I brought it up again.  “So, are we doing separate bills?  I’m just curious...”  “God, Matt, give it a rest.  Don’t WORRY about it.  Sheesh!!”

And so the ordering began....  “Oooh!  Let’s split an appetizer!  (Ka-ching!)  Would you mind if I got a glass of wine?  (Ka-ching!)   How about we get an extra entre and split that?  (Ka-ching!)”  And so it went.

Looking over the menu I bought the least expensive thing:   An $8 burger with fries and a free glass of water.

I watched as the food came and went and appetizers were shared and enjoyed and I ate my dry burger.

Finally, after an hour-and-a-half of gluttony (save for yours truly), the bill came.  Ready with my $10 bill the person in charge said:  “I’ll pay for it and you can reimburse me later.”  With a shrug of my shoulders what I knew this meant was that she would, somehow, try to get the firm to pay for it.  Shoulda ordered more.

And it was confirmed.  Soon after I got back to work, an e-mail went out to all the lunch participants that the firm was covering the lunch.  That was sure swell of them and I regretted not getting the cheese on my burger or getting a side salad.  Live and learn and maybe next time.

About a half-hour later I get another e-mail:  “Hey, the firm isn’t covering the lunch bill after all.  You’re amount is $24.”

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA?!

I bought an $8 burger!  WITH WATER!  Of course what she had done was taken the total bill and divided it evenly amongst the participants and everyone was to “fairly” chunk in their percentage.

I was pissed.  I promptly sent her an e-mail back explaining that I had bought an $8 burger and shouldn’t be responsible for those who got an appetizer or dessert or an “extra entre to split.”

She came to me, angry that I was even questioning it, and said:  “Just pay what you want!”  And stormed off.  It wasn’t so much that I was paying 3x for my burger, but simply the fact that she was blowing off my genuine lunch payment concern.  If I had known the rules going in...I might not have come or...I might have ordered more since so-and-so would cover my side salad or something.

Since I was still relatively new and didn’t want to look like the cheap douche-bag that I am, I paid my $24 share.

Funny, we never got together for a birthday lunch again.