Monthly Archives: October 2008

Halloween at Grammie’s

Yes, you have to put up with a Grammie post, complete with photos. (Well, you don’t have to; you could click away, but I wish you wouldn’t.)

Jake had fun at Grammie’s yesterday. After I got home from school, we played awhile before I had to go to rehearsal. Of course, the camera was out…

Hi, let me try that camera

Hey you up there

Calling Santa

Tired little dragon after trick-or-treat

#1 Son and tired little dragon

And to think there was a time when I thought I was too young to be a grandmother. Shame on me. If anything, this boy keeps me thinking and acting young. (Notice I didn’t say *looking* young. Oh well — as Meatloaf once sang…)

Fink out.

Weirdness from across the pond

Ok, this is bizarre. And funny. It’s one of those times when you read an article or story that is quite serious, and then it delivers a huge punch line at the end that makes you laugh out loud.

The whole sordid tale about British radio announcers Russell Brand and Jonathan Ross is a head-shaker. The articles are long and involved, so here’s the abbreviated version (full link to follow):

I’m reading along, and it seems that a 23-year-old girl was having a fling with Brand, age 33. Then the guy found out the girl was the granddaughter of Andrew Sachs, known worldwide for playing Manuel, the Spanish waiter in the hilarious BBC comedy from the seventies, Fawlty Towers.

Well, one thing led to another, and there was Ross, back on his radio show with Brand, making sexually lewd comments about Sachs, now in his 70s.

The granddaughter — along with the British public — was horrified by the tasteless remarks on the show, and now both announcers have been fired.

I felt terrible for the girl. She was quoted in the article as being profoundly embarrassed that her grandfather had to not only endure a disgusting experience (seems the guys also left nasty voice mail messages on his phone), but to also be told intimate details about her love life. She clearly wanted to protect him, and she also felt personally violated by having her private affairs made public by a couple of morons on the radio. No woman should have to go through this. I was angry for her.

Then, the kicker.

One of the last paragraphs contains the innocuous sentence, “Miss Baillie…dances under the stage name ‘Voluptua’ in [the] burlesque troupe The Satanic Sluts.”


Well no wonder she was offended. Ok, I’m being snarky. If the gal wants to dance with the Satanic Sluts, then, you know…like I always say, rock on. I just laughed at being swept along by this terrible story (and it is really terrible), picturing this poor, embarrassed girl…I guess I had a different mental picture of her in mind.

You can read more about it here. Seems the Beeb have their work cut out for them…yikes. But hey, at least they don’t have Howard Stern.

Fink out.

The thing about commitment…

…is that everyone has his/her own flavor of it. And 90% of the time, it tastes like broccoli.

I’m not talking about relationship commitment (that’s another post for another day, or maybe even never). I’m talking about saying you’re going to do something, and following through. And in the case of students and a school commitment, it might involve a little parental help once in a while.

And that’s often where the wheels fall off. Therefore, I’m just a bit honked today. And a little depressed, and disappointed. (And delusional, mayhap?)

Feh. We all fall off the wagon from time to time, and I’m not looking down my pointy nose at the unwashed bourgeoisie. I got no ax ta grind, because I’ve blown it bigtime before, too. But let’s say you’re rehearsing a mainstage musical, like, ummm, Annie Get Your Gun for instance. And you’re exactly 8 days from opening night when you find out that one of your chorus members is out trick-or-treating instead of at rehearsal. Ok, that’s a choice. It may not even be a big deal to you. “It’s just a chorus member,” you say. “Nobody important.” Well rock on and I respect your opinion and all, but it’s a huge deal to me. Everyone is important — including and especially the other 30 people who *did* show up.

(What’s a 14-year-old 8th grader doing trick-or-treating anyway, you ask? Well I don’t have a solid answer for that one. It’s the most bizarre thing. I dunno. Maybe 49+ years on the earth, living in various large and small cities has rendered me completely unobservant, but I’ve never seen anything like that.)

Anyway. In spite of flagging commitments on the part of some students (and parents), the show will be wonderful and I will be proud. I’m already proud, heck and garsh.

All right, time to go make the donuts. That reminds me…I can’t forget to call the bakery today and order breakfast for Saturday’s rehearsal. My prediction is since there will be free food, everyone will be there.


I know what my problem is. I’m overpaid.

Fink out.


Just a little.

I caught a link this morning that took me to a page at Wired where some vintage Halloween pictures were displayed. Guy named Steven Martin collected the pictures, mostly via e(vil)Bay. The photos, some pictured below, seem rather….I dunno…off. Like they’re all ho-ho and ha-ha and yay, but hiding something really sinister and hideous. Like clowns.

No clue what the guy in the lower right of the above picture is supposed to be. It all kind of trips my creep-o-meter. Art does that to me sometimes.

Mr. Martin describes himself as “obsessive compulsive” where collecting old photographs is concerned. Interesting condition, that. I mean, the guy does have a strange obsession with things old and odd.

Speaking of which…the Fink is late. Gotta git. Happy Tuesday!

And the sun rises…

…on another long week. But I’m still a happy rat.

I mean, I guess there has to be one day of the week that’s the first after the weekend. Otherwise, we’d have just one long, continuous, you know. Weekend. Hey, that sounds like an idea…

It bears mentioning that this is the best orchestra I’ve had in the nine years I’ve been doing musicals at my school. Not that the others weren’t good — they were — but this time, there’s no weak link anywhere. By “weak link,” I mean a pit player who does not A) practice, or B) mark any cuts before the rehearsal, even though he/she has had the cut sheet for weeks. Everybody knew the music. We ran the whole score in less than 90 minutes. That’s progress, lemmetellya.

So as much as everyone is dreading this week and next (I will apologize in advance to my wonderful friends about being horrible about returning emails for a few days), I think the music will be strong. From what I heard from cast members, Saturday’s rehearsals went well, too.

We all *might* survive this.

I had a fabulous weekend with the family. What’d you all do?

Fink out.