Category Archives: Random Neuron Firings

Aging gracefully…or not.

Yeah, I know. I’m all about the age thing. Maybe it’s because my own coming to terms with it is *so* right around the corner.

I went Hollywood Hag again and checked out some people and how they’ve aged. This post features men; I’ll do the women’s side another day. Many of these guys have approached (and passed) middle age in a graceful and smooth manner. Some, well, haven’t.

I read once that when we are old, the face we have is the face we’ve earned. As you will see, some guys made out better in the earnings department than others…

Pierce Brosnan, as Remington Steele in the early 80s, then in a photo take a few months ago. Well done.

$He\'ll always be James Bond to me. Nice.$

Um....yeah.

Jimmy Buffett, looking awesome then and now, rocking the Harry Potter specs.

He is only 44, fuh cripesake. He looks like something out of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

$Aggressive facelifts, weird hair color...doesn\'t matter. Still adore him.$

And then there are those who become more exquisite with age.

Now I’m not poking fun at people for getting older. I don’t look nearly as youthful as I did 25-30 years ago, Buddha knows. I also know that the paps can catch one at a bad time (I’m sure Mick Jagger doesn’t *always* look like that). Rather, this is more a point about most people actually looking cooler when they’re older. I believe that even women *gasp* can get more lovely with age. You know the old adage: Men get more distinguished-looking, and women just get old. I don’t believe that.

Then again, some Hollyweird folks have done some strange things to their faces in their fight to run away from age. How about this little trip down Memory Lane?

Fink out.

Is it just me…

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…or is there anyone else in the world who thinks clowns are decidedly UNfunny?

Be honest. Have you ever laughed at a clown’s antics? I mean, really, look at this photo. Is that remotely humorous? Ok, maybe remotely, but certainly not anything close to roll-on-the-floor-and-grab-your-tummy hilarious. And before you accuse me of reaching inside your soul and strangling your inner child: I know “clowning” is considered an “art.” They even have a Hall of Fame you can actually visit.

There are also clown colleges. One (in Ohio, of course), advertises that they serve anyone who “seeks the way of the clown.” (website now defunct)

Seeks the way of the clown. How very Master Po.

Even as a child I didn’t laugh at clowns. Not even at Bob Bell — aka Bozo the Clown — with whom I spent weekly quality time via WGN-TV in Chicago when I was a kid. Rather, I watched Bozo’s Circus for the prize giveaways and the cartoons.

What is inherently funny about your standard clowns? Call me crazy, but they strike me as being a little…I dunno…creepy. Suspect. As if they’re putting on makeup to hide the monster beneath.

It’s possible that this guy ruined clowns for me for life. It by Stephen King was the scariest novel I had ever read, until recently. Quoth Mr. Pennywise to a group of terrorized adults:

I’ll kill you all. I’m every nightmare you’ve ever had. I’m everything you were ever afraid of.”

Super.

[Know what else? I hate balloons. Hate ’em. They’re floaty, evil things. Bombs, waiting to go off.]

I know someone (*cough*STONEY*cough*) who freaks out at the mere mention of clowns. Johnny Depp (insert angel chorus here) used to have nightmares about them. I’ve seen small children shriek in terror at parades and festivals and street fairs when clowns attempt to approach them. So why are they consistently tied to wholesome, family fun?

Circus (acrobat) clowns are an exception. Many of them are talented athletes who are not funny, but extremely entertaining. It’s the ones who look, well, dirty, with their smeared-on theatrical makeup (called, fittingly, “Clown White,” which makes the whites of their eyes look jaundiced) and bleeding, feathered red lipstick that make me feel all ooky.

Bottom line, clowns just remind me of this.

Fink (looking) out (the window for balloons that may be sailing by).

Photo credits: torontoist.com; best-horror-movies.com

American Progress (?)

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I happened to go to history.com this morning, just for the heck. I was reminded of the fact that long before Hillary Clinton seized the nation’s interest (and considerable support) as the first woman to ever even get close to winning her party’s nomination for president, there was Geraldine Ferraro.

She advanced further than Hillary — and this was 23 years ago, which made it no small feat. Unfortunately, she had a mediocre running mate (Geraldine was actually the vice-presidential candidate), and back then, no one could challenge Ronald Reagan and expect to come out on top. Still, it was a historic choice indeed.

But it got me to thinking, which is always dangerous. As I named a few great leaders I could think of off the top of my head, I realized that several of them were women. Women leading entire countries…but not the US. Why?

Anyway, these three powerful female leaders came to my mind:

Elizabeth I. During what we now call the “Elizabethan Age,” this young queen took Britain from poverty and isolation to success in commerce, the arts, and politics. Sure, she had help and advisers, but what leader didn’t/doesn’t? In a time when women were considered far from equals to men — nothing even close to it, actually — Elizabeth ruled with smarts and bravery, even in the face of blatant plots by rivals to assassinate her.

[This made the question of why women can’t seem to get elected to lead America all the more interesting. What’s the drawback? Puritan influence still haunting us after almost 400 years?]

Indira Gandhi has long been considered one of the most powerful leaders in history, male or female. She led the largest democracy in the world (India) and championed many causes for individual and religious tolerance and non-violent conflict resolution, while maintaining a confident presence in dealing with other world powers. She definitely had problems holding on to her office, but she still serves as an inspiration to women — especially Indian women, who had endured centuries of what we would call persecution at the hands of men.

And sadly, it was at the hands of the men Indira Gandhi trusted most — her bodyguards — that she became a martyr. They shot her down in her own garden on 31 October, 1984.

Trained as a research chemist and married with boy and girl twins, Margaret Thatcher began her political career in 1959 with her election to Parliament. She was the first woman elected Prime Minister in any European country, and the people elected her twice. She ranks #5 on the all-time longevity list of Prime Minister terms in office (the first one was arguably Robert Wolpole in 1721) at 11 years.

She proved to be a formidable opponent in the Falkland Islands invasion of 1982 (the Argentine invaders surrendered to Britain within two months), and never lost a step to the other two “big boys” in the world power structure; both Ronald Regan and Mikhail Gorbachev admired, respected and befriended her.

I found a quote from her that makes a whole lot of sense:

“If you just set out to be liked, you would be prepared to compromise on anything at any time, and you would achieve nothing.”

A lot of teachers could take that as heartfelt advice. But I digress.

The above is just a partial list, but you get the point. Why is it that other countries have no problem with electing woman leaders, but the US just can’t bring itself to do it? Props to Barack Obama & all, but let’s face it: he’s inexperienced and an unknown. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. And like it or not, people (especially Americans) are habitually loyal to what they know; the things in their comfort zones. Obama is definitely a stretch.

So again…why can’t a woman get elected to lead a country that prides itself on being an open, relevant, current, progressive world power?

Questions, questions, and so little coffee in my mug…

Fink out (to the kitchen).

This just in

Fond memories of the burning map

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I was never much for westerns on television (that was Mavis’s department), but I did love watching Bonanza — mostly because I loved Little Joe. (Who didn’t?)

The opening credits (complete with the Cartwright men approaching on horseback, and the burning map) combined with the theme song are among my most vivid TV memories growing up.

Somehow, I ended up at a Bonanza tribute site this morning and did some interesting reading about the cast and episode subjects.

I loved Lorne Greene’s white hair and deep voice, and Dan Blocker (middle son, Hoss, whose “real” name was Eric, for your information) was cute in a big ol’ dopey kind of way. Little Joe, of course, played by Michael Landon, was every girl’s favorite. He enjoyed a huge career (later producing, writing, directing and starring in the long-running series Little House on the Prairie) that lasted until his death in 1991. His first leading role was as the unfortunate lycanthrope in I Was a Teenage Werewolf in 1957. I saw that movie on TV.

Turns out Pernell Roberts, who played eldest son Adam Cartwright (and always dressed in black, which made me suspicious of him), was unhappy with the whole production — funny how we can be all up in a snit while tens of thousands of other actors are without work. Anyway. He called Bonanza “junk TV.” His character was written out of the show. I can’t remember how.

Dan Blocker died in 1973, and Greene in 1987. Roberts is still alive and working.

Interesting facts:

Michael Landon was the only one of the four Cartwrights who didn’t wear a hairpiece. Heh.
The men always wore the same basic outfits, in case producers needed to use footage in other episodes.
In the original script, the ranch was called “Panamint.” [Panamint?] Thankfully, a secretary at NBC suggested “Ponderosa,” for the pine trees Ben Cartwright supposedly loved.

They don’t make TV westerns like Bonanza anymore. I look at pictures of the set now, and think how fake it appears, but back then, I was in the moment, believing it all to be quite real. Childhood (along with suspension of disbelief) is a good thing.