Door #1 or Door #2?

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So I told the Thriller several days ago that I was going to make one purchase or the other; not both. (Between you and me, I want to hold out for getting “the other” as a Mother’s Day gift FROM HIM. Shhh.) Getting both just isn’t in the budget right now.

~

So which one is it? I’ve gone back and forth within the last 24 hours. My contract with Verizon allows for a discount upgrade this Sunday. I will choose by then. I really had my mind made up to get the Droid until I read this article in the Guardian, which suddenly found me wanting a nook all the more. Guy made me laff, too:

The lack of a cover immediately alters your purchasing habits. As soon as I got the ebook [reader], I went on a virtual shopping spree, starting with the stuff I thought I should read – Wolf Hall, that kind of thing – but quickly found myself downloading titles I’d be too embarrassed to buy in a shop or publicly read on a bus. Not pornography, but something far worse: celebrity autobiographies.

Hey, what’s wrong with celeb bios? I like ’em…

Of course, there are far more important things in life to think and worry about than which toy I want. But at the moment, I’m having trouble coming up with an example.

:-)

Fink (pretentious wonk) out.

Time for snow to stop.

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Time for the snow to stop so I can:

a) get the Finkmobile up the driveway
b) avoid the dreaded basketball game rescheduling circus
c) actually have rehearsals
d) not worry about ending up off-roading on the way to school

“D” is a biggy, I must admit. I adore my little 4-wheeler, but it completely bites on snowy roads.

And now it is time for my cast to memorize their music. I enjoy my role as Mrs. Nicey McNicelman, but I feel the run is coming to an end…

Happy Tuesday,
Mardi Fink

BTTH X

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“I was trying to help her up and she fell on her leg.”

~

Of course she did, dear.

And so it goes: another pro athlete arrested for stupid behavior that threatens an otherwise entitled and charmed life. Some people can’t see how fortunate they are. The man is blessed with tackling talent that eventually gives him an embarrassment of riches. After retirement from the NFL, he is paid handsomely to hang around the sidelines and give his opinion on stuff. Difficult job.

It’s a cruel statement, “You can take the boy out of the ghetto, but you can’t take the ghetto out of the boy.” Yet it’s been proven over and over again in pro sports — especially the NBA and NFL. Fortunately, these jokers seem to be in the minority; most pro athletes make it through their careers without spending a single night in jail. Imagine that.

And then there’s the ubiquitous shirking of any blame whatsoever. Why do they do this so consistently? Because they get away with it so frequently. Why take the blame when you can successfully point the finger at someone or something else? Sapp will plead innocent, even if they send him to jail (which they won’t). It’s *always* somebody else’s fault. And even though the truth — either hard or circumstantial — will stare the judges right in the face, they will slap little Warren with an earth-shattering punishment by fining him and sending him back to his “job” on the NFL network for seven figures, so, you know, we can repeat this scenario in five years or so and go through the same process with the same result.

And the sad part is, it’s not limited to pro sports. But don’t get me started on that. I’m actually in a good mood today.

:-)

Cool TV VII

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The dramedy and the romantic drama-fantasy.

Here are two of my fave TV shows from the 80s, when I was a young mom and TV time at night was a restful reward after a crazy day with two energetic boys.

For the younger Finkites: Moonlighting was Bruce Willis’s launch to fame. He was pretty much an unknown until he landed the part of David Addison, the wise-cracking but cute-as-a-puppy detective working for Maddie Hayes (played by 60s fashion model Cybill Shepherd). The seriousness of solving crimes was always interspersed with silliness, like this, for instance, and the romantic tension between Shepherd and Willis was always stretching, stretching, stretching…and once they declared their love (as often happens in real life), things were just weird from then on.

Once Shepherd had kids and Willis made the first Die Hard movie, the series was pretty much over. And they chose the most bizarro way of ending it, too: the crew just came in and started dismantling the set.

Beauty and the Beast falls into the category of Serious Suspension of Disbelief. But I loved it anyway, and refused to miss it. An impossible romance combined with detective plots made this show totally irresistible for me. Catherine (Linda Hamilton) and Vincent (Ron Perlman) were the star-crossed, tragic soulmates. Vincent always appeared at the crucial moment, either to save Catherine or to comfort her. Again with the unresolved tension. I was so sad when it was canceled after only three seasons. Apparently, so were a lot of other people.

Time was (strangely, in my lifetime), when a show was canceled, it disappeared for years until syndication caught up with it. Now, shows go immediately to disc/online, so there’s no waiting. These two programs are now available on DVD in their entirety.

*sigh*Reminiscing about a simpler time…

Waiting…

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…for the doc’s office to open. I’ve had enough. Going to see about getting some drugs ASAP.

At least I’m not missing school — other than in-service day. Truth be told, I’d rather suffer through that than this. Yark.

But hey, while I’m here waiting, I’ve noticed some interesting stuff come across the wire. Reportedly, Johnny Depp is making a docu about Keith Richards. Whoa. I spect the working title will be something along the lines of Booze ‘n Chicks. Actually… the guy’s 66 and still going at it. More power to him.

Don’t ask  me why I took 20 minutes out of my life to read Michael Jackson’s autopsy report. But there are some interesting bits in it. Like, I knew he had really great hair…but I thought it was just long and straightened every day. Joke was on me.

John Mayer needs to stay off the Hennessy while doing interviews with Playboy. Or maybe he’s just a jerk. I hope it’s “A.” I think he somewhat atoned for his ridiculous comments when he told a concert audience Wednesday night that he was sorry and he was in fact “done” with the media circuit, choosing instead to just “play [his] guitar.” Good thinking.

Google’s Buzz isn’t going to replace Facebook. Period.

OK, so good news. The Thriller just came downstairs and told me that he would be happy to sacrifice his doctor appointment at 1:45 today so I could have it. Isn’t that nice of him? He’s so good to me.

*sNiFflE*

Have a good Finkday, fiends. I’m back to the sofa until after lunch.

FO