I’d say this looks pretty good for a 78-year-old man. Wouldn’t you?
Of course, it’s likely Photoshopped to the hilt, and who knows if it’s even his body or not, but the face is pretty close to what I’ve seen in recent candids. Some guys have all the luck, eh?
Although I do wonder what he’s doing in the Bahamas on a seemingly perfect, 90-100-degree day, wearing long pants and a sweater. Just sayin’.
Have a nice Saturday.
Dwier Brown. I kind of knew him once. That is, I spoke with him in passing every once in awhile when he would stop at the office where I worked. I saw him in several plays at the university; he was great. But I’m sure he couldn’t pick me out of a lineup.
Do you not know who Dwier Brown is? If not, you’re probably not alone. But if you were female and paying attention in the early 1980s when The Thorn Birds (*swoon*) miniseries was on TV, you’d remember him as the totally cute and tragically sweet character of Stewie Cleary.
Then he hit the bigtime as Kevin Costner’s dad in Field of Dreams. Little Dwier Brown, from Ashland College in Ohio. Who knew?
Over the years, I’ve seen him on some TV shows, as well as some commercials. I’d say he’s made a decent living for himself in Hollywood. How cool is that? (Although my hope is that if he sees this post, he won’t go all postal on me for getting his resume wrong, like, um….He Who Must Not Be Named.)
But while I’m dropping famous names, here are a few more.
~ I once sang on the same program as Tom Netherton from the old Lawrence Welk show. No joke. Heh.
~ When playing a club in Mansfield, Ohio years ago, in walked Jonathan Harris — the original Dr. Smith from the 60s TV show Lost in Space.
~ When then-Vice President Dan Quayle came to town back in 1988, I was asked to sing the National Anthem at his honorary dinner. He shook my hand afterward; he has gorgeous blue eyes.
I know I can’t hold a candle to Ross’s close encounters (I must confess the almost-knocking-over-Dick-Clark experience made me laugh out loud — priceless), but hey, a girl does what she can.
Fink, schmoozin’ with the (erstwhile) stars
…we should be about done for the month.
From the Beeb:
8 February: A passenger plane crashes into a river in the Brazilian state of Amazonas, killing 24 people, most of whom were from the same family.
12 February: A passenger plane crashes into a house in Buffalo, New York, killing all 49 people on board and one person on the ground.
25 February: A flight from Istanbul to Amsterdam crashes short of the runway at Schiphol international airport. Of the 135 people on board, nine are killed and at least 50 injured.
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5 February: One cast member out with mono (he’s now back in school full time as of this week).
15 February: Second kid out with mono (not back yet). Edit: He’s back today, looking like 10 miles of bad road.
25 February: Third kid out with who knows what (probably won’t see her for another week).
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1 February: Sidelined by monster stomach flu — worst in my life.
19 February: Respiratory thing — lungs on fire. Sweet.
26 February: ??? Anyone? I’ll take whatever you got. Let’s get it over with.
Fink, puttin’ the hex on ya
I got it.
I want to be a pastry chef.
A link this morning led me to a list of less stressful careers (swearing that I would fire off a nasty letter if “K-12 teacher” was on it), and saw the description of pastry chef. Just me, sugar, cinnamon, butter and creativity. Now that sounds like a job, friends.
I mean, I love to bake. I love to be creative. Here’s me, getting up at 3 a.m. and going to the restaurant. I’m by myself…everything’s quiet…nice and warm and cozy. I put on some Debussy, Poulenc or Fauré (just to get all Frenchy-Frenchy), and by 8 a.m., I’m surrounded by eclairs, tarts, petit fours, croissants. Then I go home and take a nap. Er, I mean, work out.
*sigh*
Maybe in another life.
What was/is your dream job? Did you ever think about going for it? I mean, I love teaching, don’t get me wrong. But sometimes, the stress of it makes me want to jump off a bridge. Maybe you’re already living your dream, and for that I say a big congrats to you.
And a “dream job” isn’t relaxing on a yacht all day. That isn’t a job, and I doubt I could live very long that way anyhow…it’s just how I’m built. But what would you do if you *really* had the choice of careers? I covet your responses.
Fink out.
No voice, that is. Whatever this plague is that has chosen to follow me around in various incarnations since last week, it’s now settling in the exact area I need it least:
As many of you know, I am no stranger to voice problems, although the trouble was long ago. Still, I’m a little skittish when it comes to laryngitis — it led to surgery all those years ago, and I don’t ever want to repeat that delightful experience.
So, no talking (teaching) for me today. I’m sure the choirs will be thrilled. All I know is, this February is one for the record books. Sheez.
Fink, rocking the mensis horribilis.
Ugh.