Monthly Archives: December 2008

That was fun

So yeah, we had our family Christmas gathering last night. A fabulous time.

As we ate, laughed, opened gifts, chatted, bawled and laughed some more, I was reminded of a comforting truth: in spite of all the hardships of money (meaning not enough of it), time (ditto) and general craziness that comes with having what I call a large family in scope if not in size … I am blessed in a big way, due in no small part to the wonderful women who I am honored to call my daughters. We had a “girls’ photo” taken before everyone scattered, and I am going to have it framed.

[You know I am happy about getting together for a photo if I post a public picture with me in my glasses and not contact lenses. I need to get frames like Helen’s, so I don’t look like the aging school marm that I am. Mercy.]

My wish is for every mother-in-law and stepmom in the world to have caring, funny, intelligent and cool daughters and daughters-in-law to bless them.

Only downside of our Christmas this year: we have to say goodbye to Johanna, who will move to Austin, Texas tomorrow, where she will attend grad school, work for the IRS, and do great things — guaranteed. You heard it here first.

Still, it was a fab time last night, and everyone had fun — including Jakey, who loved his new toys (although Rousseau wasn’t too sure about them).

Now it’s on to the reality of studying, studying, choreography, studying and choreography. Play time is over.

Arg.

Fink out.

Yikes.

This is the kind of story that, when you read it or hear it, you smile and go, “Get outta here.” In other words, you don’t believe it. But it is undeniably, embarrassingly, head-shakingly true.

Remember the lawsuit filed against a dry cleaner by that rookie judge in Washington DC? The cleaner lost the judge’s suit pants, and the guy flipped out and sued them.

Well, the Mother of All Frivolous Lawsuits (and as you know, fiends, that is a tough title to win, since frivolous lawsuits rule the American justice system) is in the news again, and once more, it appears to have received its walking papers. The guy just can’t let it go.

According to this article at CNN.com, the appellate court told wackjob judge Roy Pearson (he has since been relieved of his duties) to get over it and go away. However, considering this nut’s history, that’s not likely to happen until he’s told to go away by the US Supreme Court. (And yes, it’s totally possible that our court system will allow it to go that far.)

Anyone with half a brain can see that his lawsuit — to the tune of $67 million for losing a pair of suit pants — was insane. You actually have to read it to believe it. From the Wall Street Journal:

He wanted $500,000 for emotional distress and–though representing himself–$542,000 in legal fees. Best of all, he claimed that the signs on display at Custom Cleaners, “Satisfaction Guaranteed” and “Same Day Service,” were fraudulent, entitling him to damages of $1,500 each per day under D.C. consumer law. He multiplied 12 violations by three defendants by 1,200 days, and soon was up over $65 million (later cut to a mere $54 million).

And here’s the kicker. The dry cleaner (the Chung family, South Korean immigrants trying to establish an American dream) initially offered Pearson a $12,000 out-of-court settlement for him to drop the lawsuit. $12,000 for a pair of trousers, and he refused. Instead, he tacked on an extra $2 million for “discomfort, inconvenience, and mental distress.”

Mental distress. Over pants.

According to the Wiki about it (again, you really do have to read it to believe it), DC Superior Court Judge Neal Kravitz was quoted as saying that “the court has significant concerns that the plaintiff is acting in bad faith.”

Gee, ya think?

Some things are so idiotic, there are no words. But here are a few wise ones from the WSJ op-ed:

Whole dockets’-worth of opportunistic litigation would dry up if we revised [our] laws so as to require a showing of actual injury.

It’s nice to see that even the organized plaintiffs bar piously deplores Mr. Pearson’s abuse of the law. It would be even nicer if they agreed to stop opposing reforms that would give the Chungs of the world a fighting chance the next time around.”

And until that day, we will continue to read about loony litigants like Roy Pearson, who, at the trial, broke down in tears when describing his lost pants, giving the judge no choice but to call a brief recess for Roy to regain his composure.

I am not making this up.

Hey, no school for me today. I kind of wish we’d had it; Meg made cinnamon rolls. OH WELL.

Fink out (and excited about the Christmas fĂȘte tonight)

PS – This was the view from my back door this morning at 6:00.

Photo credits: Washington Post

Trippin’ the creepy meter

I’ve often told my fiends here at RtB that I don’t know how I end up at this site or that article; I just end up there. I’ve never taken the time to retrace my “steps” to see how I arrived at a certain topic. So this morning, I tracked my progress from simple eye-catching article to final decision for today’s post. Behold, the yellow brick road:

  1. While scanning the New York Times, I notice a title: As Filmgoers Seek Cheer, Studios Struggle to Adjust.
  2. A line in the article references Busby Berkeley. I think to myself, Hmm…maybe I could choreograph a twist on a classic Berkeley number for Dinner Theatre this year. I can’t remember when he died, so I Wiki him, and the journey begins.
  3. While reading about Berkeley, I notice a reference to the Broadway musical, No No Nanette, which my friend-and-partner-in-crimes-against-the-arts Stoney and I were considering doing at one time. In that Wiki entry, I see an actress’s name: ZaSu Pitts. Hmm. Never heard of her. Clicky.
  4. In the ZaSu article, there’s a reference to a comedy she did in 1929 called The Dummy, but clicking the link doesn’t take you to an entry about the 1929 film. Instead, it leads to a 1962 episode of The Twilight Zone, called The Dummy, starring Cliff Robertson as a ventriloquist whose dummy develops an evil personality and takes over the act (and, eventually, the ventriloquist).
  5. As I go through the eerie synopsis (I have seen the episode, and it is ooky indeed), I remember something…

Et voilĂ . Today’s Finkness. Now wasn’t that easy? I perform this ritual almost every morning, and I must say I enjoy it immensely. I read and read and read (which I enjoy anyhow), then I happen upon something that causes a random thought or triggers a memory. And away we go.

Speaking of getting going:

Do you remember this movie? I saw it in the theater back in 1978. It featured Anthony Hopkins as a lonely, moody, morose magician named Corky, who doubled as a ventriloquist for Fats, his totally creep-tastic looking dummy.

Well, turns out, Fats was no dummy. Fats was just evil, but in an internal, much more sinister way. In other words, Fats was Corky. Fun With Psychosis, yay.

And although I haven’t seen the film since that night in ’78, I do remember that it wasn’t a jump-out-and-go-BOO-type movie. Rather, you scared yourself to death. Imagination is funny…

Maybe seeing it now would make me laugh. I do remember Burgess Meredith’s crookedly amusing line to Corky, telling him that he (Corky) could convince Meredith of his sanity if only Corky could “make Fats shut up for 5 minutes.” Of course, Meredith’s character knew Fats would not shut up once he took over Corky’s half of the personality. I remember being a bit creeped out by the whole thing.

Some dummies are funny, though. I know everyone’s familiar with Jeff Dunham’s Achmed, the Dead Terrorist and his other characters. But seriously, catch yourself some vintage Wayland and Madame sometime. Wayland Flowers, who died of AIDS complications in 1988 at only 48 years old, was not a ventriloquist; he just held Madame off to the side and spoke without the deadmouth shtick. But truly, you hardly noticed Wayland — Madame wouldn’t allow it. They were both brilliant.

Just so you know: there is a rant coming…very soon. Heh.

Fink out.

RNF XIV

XIV — that is fourteen, right? I was recently asked in an email what the difference was between my “Random Neuron Firings” and “Various and Sundry” post titles. I said, “Erm…I suppose they’re the same thing.” Cripes, do I have to justify everything around here? Is this a marriage? Heh. J/K, BFFs.

Random Neuron Firings

Kay and Bob, our best friends of 16 years, live six months out of every year in Slovenija. Kay just recently had surgery on her foot, and she tells about the experience in a post on her blog. You want to see some fine writing and amazing pictures? Click over.

How would you feel if you had to have surgery in a place where you didn’t understand the language (from what Kay tells me, Slovene is incredibly difficult to learn), and where you’d never had a medical experience before? I honestly don’t think I would have handled it as well as my lovely opera singer friend. But she’s fabulous and my hero, so it doesn’t surprise me that she came out of it with a smile. I’m counting the days until her return on the 14th of April. Maybe, if we’re all really good little fiends, she’ll actually post a comment here someday to prove she really does exist outside of my imagination. :-)

~

Here’s something you don’t see every day. The new movie The Wrestler scored a 100% on the “Tomato-meter” at RottenTomatoes.com, my fave movie review site. The film features the now-creepy Mickey Rourke, who sliced his face to ribbons with plastic surgery. Kody, are you going to see it?

Susan Cheever wrote this interesting article in yesterday’s Times. I don’t know, but around these parts, people still get plenty smashed. And many of them aren’t even old enough to buy booze.

I love 2-hour delays. I will probably get an Amen from all my students.

Dinner Theatre is cast and ready to start rehearsals in January. Talented bunch of people, that. It still amazes me how many good singers they grow out there in Hooterville. Something in the water, I’m tellin’ ya…

All right, I’m going to go finish wrapping Jakey’s gifts and signing cards that will go to Texas on Friday. Have a grand Wednesday (or Thursday, if you’re BoomR and still in Japan).

Fink out.

PS – Just got the text message: SNOW DAY!

PTL

Yep. Praise the Lord (remember that show, crusties?). It’s over, and it went well.

OK, except for one thing…the piano player (that would be Yours Truly). Dropping a measure before the shout chorus is not cool. Dropping a measure when 14 singers are depending on you to *not* drop a measure is consummately uncool. But, being the little pros they are, they recovered nicely and sounded great.

The choir — which was borderline under-rehearsed — did a fab job of pulling it off. I think that to say we’re all glad it’s over, however, would be an understatement. All right, on to the Finkness for today.

The folks over at Gizmodo did a feature on neat-o computer desks. I’ve pulled my faves from that article to show you this day. Click on the pictures to get the full Monty:

All right. Time to get ready so I can go pick up my peace offering to the jazz singers: donuts from Hawkins. Sheesh. Rat Fink, Rat Fink…what a donkey.

Hee-aww. Fink out.