CLOSET CLEANOUT

Today was the day to get everything out of the closet to donate to our chosen charity at work, Second Chance.

Second chance has a program that teaches people how to interview, how to put on makeup, how to tie a tie....basically, how to get a job. Of the people they graduate, 0% find jobs, and of the people who find jobs 70% of them keep them for 2 years. Not bad stats. This is an incredible organization, obviously it must be if it could motivate me to do the closet cleanout.

Now my closets are legendary. I never throw anything out. Why? I had someone, a professional, go through my closets in 1983, 25 years ago. I still mourn every piece of clothing of which she disposed. I still see myself in my dreams walking along the beach in my gorgeous Ralph Lauren linen baby blue dress....barefoot (I said it was a dream...you know I have an aversion to bare feet as well as sand). My hair is blowing in the wind. I actually fit in the dress (size 6)--see I said it was a dream. Why am I fixated on this dress...because I no longer have it.

It was a walk down memory lane. As I picked up every article of clothing, I reminisced. Where I wore it...for those things that were worn. Where I bought it...for those things still with tags on them. What was I thinking? Did I really wear a 10" long plaid skirt while in my 30's? Reyn Spooner...Hawaii-brain.

Shoes are another thing in the collection...I donated 30 pair. Still managed to keep Chanel shoes that have never fit and never been worn. Vintage Maud Frizon that are gorgeous. They haven't been worn since 4 years prior to Cliff (who is 19). Who could give them up....


My closet still has tons of stuff that I will probably not wear but cannot separate from emotionally. The dress that I wore to Betsy's rehearsal dinner--she divorced Jeff but I cannot divorce myself from the dress. Go figure.

Well most of it is gone now. Except for Geiger, YSL, Ralph Purple Label, Guy Laroche, Chanel, Mario Valentino, and Romeo Gigli. They are in sizes running from 4-to current undisclosed. One must have some memories.

Let's move on to the items with tickets. Hmmmm. Then there is the debate. Do I return the items still in the bags from Nordstrom with the tickets on them. "I was going to lose weight." "It has only been 4-7 years ago." Do you think that they would mind? As nice as they normally are, they are not especially nice when you are returning something 7 years old. In 2000, I was unpacking when we moved here, and I found a whole collection of clothing unworn, with tags. I called Nordies and they said, it doesn't matter how old it is...bring it back. That was the last pleasant memory of the event I had. You hand over the merchandise and it begins. "I need help!" they yell. "We don't even have this department any more." At that point you want to grab it from the Sales Professional's hand and skulk to your car. Then she yells again, and you dig in your heels. For heaven's sake, you bought it there. You lost it. You found it. You are returning it. It is no big deal to her, except a story to tell in the break room. I stood there patiently, grabbed my $364.87, and left. If I had a tail, trust me, it would have been between my legs. I remember telling her that it was a cute outfit...I was sure someone would buy it...after all I had. Thinking back...maybe I will wait another few months before I put on a baseball cap and return my collection.

The closet looks a lot different now. As is befitting an employee of Bloomingdales, one entire rail is filled with black suits, separated by a solid color shirt so that in zero dark hundred when I get dressed the pants will match the suit.

Life is good.

DEBATE

No debate here....
BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH

$85,000,000,000 BOOST

I received thie email from a friend and it is such a phenomenal idea I had to pass it on!!

A Sobering Perspective

From the "Non-financial" world:

I'm against the $85,000,000,000.00 bailout of AIG.

Instead, I'm in favor of giving $85,000,000,000 to America in
a We Deserve It Dividend.

To make the math simple, let's assume there are 200,000,000
bonafide U.S. Citizens 18+.

Our population is about 301,000,000 +/- counting every man, woman
and child. So 200,000,000 might be a fair stab at adults 18 and up.

So divide 200 million adults 18+ into $85 billon that equals
$425,000.00.

My plan is to give $425,000 to every person 18+ as a
We Deserve It Dividend.

Of course, it would NOT be tax free.

So let's assume a tax rate of 30%.

Every individual 18+ has to pay $127,500.00 in taxes.

That sends $25,500,000,000 right back to Uncle Sam.

But it means that every adult 18+ has $297,500.00 in their pocket.
A husband and wife has $595,000.00.

What would you do with $297,500.00 to $595,000.00 in your family?
Pay off your mortgage -- housing crisis solved.
Repay college loans - what a great boost to new grads
Put away money for college - it'll be there
Save in a bank -- create money to loan to entrepreneurs.
Buy a new car - create jobs
Invest in the market - capital drives growth
Pay for your parent's medical insurance - health care improves
Enable Deadbeat Dads to come clean - or else

Remember this is for every adult U S Citizen 18+ including the folks
who lost their jobs at Lehman Brothers and every other company
that is cutting back. And of course, for those serving in our Armed
Forces.

If we're going to redistribute wealth let's really do it...instead of
trickling out a puny $1000.00 ( "vote buy" ) economic incentive that is being proposed
by one of our candidates for President.

If we're going to do an $85 billion bailout, let's bail out every adult
U. S. Citizen 18+!

As for AIG - liquidate it.

Sell off its parts.

Let American General go back to being American General.

Sell off the real estate.

Let the private sector bargain hunters cut it up and clean it up.


Here's my rationale. We deserve it and AIG doesn't.

Sure it's a crazy idea that can "never work."

But can you imagine the Coast-To-Coast Block Party!

How do you spell Economic Boom?

I trust my fellow adult Americans to know how to use the $85 Billion
We Deserve It Dividend more than I do the geniuses at AIG or in
Washington DC.

And remember, The Birk plan only really costs $59.5 Billion because
$25.5 Billion is returned instantly in taxes to Uncle Sam.

Ahhh...I feel so much better getting that off my chest.

Kindest personal regards,

A Creative Guy & Citizen of the Republic

PS: Feel free to pass this along to your pals as it's either good for a
laugh or a tear or a very sobering thought on how to best use $85 Billion!!

All I can say is that this would work for me...big time!!

PUSH BUTTON, PANIC BUTTON, EASY BUTTON

The word Push Button conjurs up horrors for me...past, present, and I am sure future.

Past....When I was in college this was my car. It was gorgeous. I was a spoiled brat. This lovely vehicle had a very "low slung pan." I do not know whta that really meant but to me it meant that any time it rained and you had to go through a big puddle the car died. Had I been older I would have avoided puddles. Bur instead I would always forge (quite literally) ahead. One day I took the car "skimming" (car version of "swimming") and it drowned. I told my father that is was a piece of s...--not in those words certainly. He said he would take it and get it fixed.

The next day when I arrived at home there was a strange car in the driveway. I went inside and asked where my car was. He said in the driveway. I was horrified. He said that I would never take anything for granted again (in hindsite I guess he was really POd). The strange car you ask was a 1963 Dodge Dart GT with a Push Button transmission. The car pictured here, of course, does not represent fully the car that I was given. But actually, in my mind, compared to my lovely Jaguar, it probably looked like the seats were ripped. It was actually a good car. It had 5 buttons, not five speeds forward plus overdrive. It had a top speed of about 90, not the 140 that the Jaguar would go. In essence it was capable of doing the job...just not as much fun.

Moving on to the panic button. The panic button is what you have when you save something on the computer over something important that you really needed. Or when you accidentally send out an email to "all" on your email list. For those of you who received my email and feel you shouldn't have...please simply delete and forgive me! Be thankful that I am not in control of other buttons, ie. the nuke them all button (W has control of that one....be afraid, very afraid). The picture above is exactly how I felt when I realized what I had done...but as we know, done is done, deleted is deleted, Jaguar/Dodge Dart (explain that to your carpool).

Why are these problems happening because it is all so damn easy!!! Let's go back to having it take real effort to screw up! Make it so you have to work for it! Come on now....I am tired of being able to mess up easy...I need some effort to go into my little disasters.

ORSTWIWTD

WORDTWIST. TWIST. WORD. WIST. ORD.TWO.ROD.SOD.TOT.STIR....

Betsy convinced me to go on Facebook to be able to view pictures of the kids...a way of keeping in touch so to speak. Then it happened...Wordtwist. I am addicted. It is a nightmare. I awoke last night thinking of dredging (ding, red, dred, gin, din, ...) I can't stop myself. My eyes fly open with thoughts of curmudgeon (cur, mud, geo, ego, deo, durm, derm, drum). It has become an addiction (add.dit.ion.don.dad.act...). When I am on the computer I become embarrassed.


I am so horrible at this that Betsy suggested that I challenge Julia to a game. Perhaps I could beat her. That would be Julia the 8 year old. She thought it would build her self esteem, playing against someone my age ad winning. That face that I could then have Loser tatooed on my forehead is irrelevant.

I have 140 on ladder score and then Liz suggested I might have had Betsy over trying to increase my score. I immediately thought...you know maybe she is right, did I. Maybe I would have never gotten this high on my own...maybe Betsy is playing under my name (cause she doesn't have enough to do). How is my confidence level...remember, noone can beat me at Scrabble...but this this is a whole new ball of wax.

Other people have this addiction...it has even spread to the sporting world. I understand that Joe Thomas, rookie in Cleveland (football, I think because he is 6'7" and 340#) has issues. He actually plays up to 9 letters--my hero. You may think he made a touchdown here---but no, he had a "bingo" at WT.

I particularly like the words of another blogger Alaskanmama who states that she has been on a week and wants to pulverize her own sons on facebook...and can't even think about knitting. Sound familiar. All of you that thought you would be getting handknitted catnip toys can forget about it! I am busy.

There are actual sites quantifying life in the world of Wordtwist.
It was actually interesting to know that the basic demographics for this game is an Asian female graduate student who is less affluent (of course...she cannot work it would interfere with the game) living in California. Basically me! No wait...I only live in California.

Think people take this seriously...there is actually a place to cheat. That is right...word twist cheat. I should send this link to Alaskamama, it might help her beat her kids.

I actually have played enough that I am beginning to remember the games that are repeated. There must be a 12 step program for this. WTA............

RUTH BADER GINSBERG, CHINCHILLA

Ruth Bader Ginsberg...the most famous female lawyer in the world

or

Ruth Bader Ginsberg...chinchilla

Ruth believes in Equal Rights
Ginsie is a boy named Ruth

Ginsie is Cliff's pet chinchilla, a boy, very cute, cute, cute.

Cliff has wanted a pet chinchilla for years. He found one that someone was giving away in San Diego and we went down to get it. Then I asked the fateful question. Why are the other people ggiving him away. The young man said...the crying. The crying, I asked. Yes he cries all night. We both opted for a "no" on the screamer...and it was an inside joke for many months.

One of Cliff's favorite times with Ginsie is bath time. To stay in the spirit of the moment...he does take Ginsie to the bathroom for bath time. Chinchillas actually bathe in dust...it is true

They are indeed adorable. How many would it take to make a little shawl...mmmmm??

RIGHTEOUS KILL

Righteous Kill should be a slam dunk, instead we got a lame duck. One would think that BobAl should be able to keep your attention. There were quite a few distractions. Would someone who looks like Carla Gugino in reality date a man who is 28 years older than she is....I mean if he were a lowly cop and not Robert DeNiro. Come on!!

All of the acting in the world could not keep one's mind on anything but the true star of the show. Al's hair. Seriously, I do not want to be mean but he has to have all of the money in the world...can he not do better than the bad weave. OMG!

I would hate to give away the plot, but, if you have seen the requisite 500 episodes of Law and Order you will know what is going on immediately. To put the whole thing in perspective, Henry did not even ask me once what was going on...at least he does that in L&O.

On a side note, in doing a little research for this blog (hard to believe I research this stuff isn't it), I discovered that Carla Gugino is Carol Merrill's niece. Carol Merrill from Let's Make a Deal. Also, at 65 Henry and Bob are the same age. Al is actually 68 and most importantly only 5'7". A little bit of trivia...like the movie.

THE LOOM

It is wonderful when you connect with an old work friend. A very old friend that you have not heard from in mmmmm30 years. Better still, you find out you both work for the same company, on different coasts. He, however, stayed with them for 30 years and has a retirement package. I will have to work for them for another thirty years to be able to retire at 87. In his e-mail he asked if I still had the loom that he helped me move five zillion times. The loom...I started to laugh. When I thought about it I decided to share the story of the loom.

How did I get THE LOOM? It began in college. There was a boy named Byrd. He was an artist. He was tall, dashing, long hair, beard. He was a sculptor. His father was my dentist. His mother was my friend. She was a textile artist. She was fabulous. They were fabulous. BoyByrd moved to Phoenix after college. I was traveling to the west coast after college and stopped to visit him in Phoenix where he was working building Geodesic Domes. I fell in love. I came home to get my stuff and move to Phoenix. I got a call when I arrived home that there was no need to return....he had found Jesus and a commune (those were the days)

His mom went out to save him from saving himself and she was saved (confused yet). She came home and felt she needed to divest of material things...I got the loom.

I loved THE LOOM. Calvin, as I recall, hated THE LOOM. He moved THE LOOM, from LOOM ROOM to LOOM ROOM. I would look at THE LOOM and listen to Judy Collins singing "The Weaver"

She is a weaver
Through her hand the bright thread travels
Blue green water, willows weeping, silver stars
She is my sister, the baby born when I was older
Her hands are light, her hair is bright as the summer sun

I was the baby sister, weaving, weaving. The romantic visions that song conjured up. Creating woven masterpieces...in my mind.

In reality, I only ever looked at THE LOOM. Keeping in mind that this is not a table loom...it was a custom made 64" loom that literally took up its own room. It literally loomed over you wherever you were. My first house had a LOOM ROOM. I moved to Miami and had a LOOM ROOM.

I met Henry, we got married, bought a condo. I think that it took about a year for me to realize that I did not know where the loom was located. Henry had it moved to the Bentley's Luggage warehouse and then gave it to someone who worked there. That's it! My career as a weaver done! kaput! Huge fight....wah wah wah. Have not thought of THE LOOM until my eMail from Calvin.

Calvin, thanks so much for the reminder. I am thinking of buying a loom...I certainly have the room.

THE CURMUDGEON

When did it happen? When did the man I married disappear and the curmudgeon take his place? He has become a cantankerous, argumentative old man. Who does he argue with you ask?

Last year the issue was that he could not hear the television. Now the problem is that he can hear the television. He indiscriminately comments non-stop...on everything. Here is just a sampling from the last few minutes of Wheel of Fortune:

• Where did they get this guy?
• He is the thinnest guy I have ever seen?
• Look he can barely spin the wheel.
• He doesn't know how to spin the wheel.
• What is wrong with the other two people.
• Stupid Stupid Stupid
• How could he not know what that is?
• Everyone knows that is bottle nosed dolphin.
• Why is he taking so long to choose the letters?
• Those are the same letters everyone chooses.
• He is screwed he will never guess that.
• How did he get that?
• This is the stupidest game.
• Why would they pick him?

That is just a sample of a very few minutes of Wheel. He talked non-stop. Non-stop! Never once did he say. He talked so much you could not hear the television...and it is not just this show...it is all of them. You should hear a baseball game--if it isn't the players or the coach or the announcers--it is the hotdogs!

I miss the days where all he said was--"what did he say?" or "they must be mumbling"

I say OMG SHUT IT!

BOTTLE SHOCK

At this stage most of us think of "bottle shock" in terms of "when did this wine get this expensive?" This movie puts it all in perspective. The cast is superb: Alan Rickman, Dennis Farina (his NikNik shirt should be in the Smithsonian), Bill Pullman. But the clear star of the movie is Napa itself and wine making in general. I now wonder how in the world I pay so little for wine (not counting two buck chuck)

What gives California wines their luster is the result of a blind wine tasting set up by a British shop owner, Steven Spurrier, who had a shop in Paris to boost sales of his French wines? Alan Rickman is wonderful as the shopowner. OK. Let's face it. Alan Rickman is wonderful...in anything. I do not know what it is about him. He is simply fabulous. Sense and Sensibility, Die Hard, OMG even Robin Hood Prince of Thieves.

Hard to believe that there was a time that American wines were shunned...and that that time was in my lifetime. Even harder to believe is that this publicity stunt could have pushed an industry ahead as it did...and that the result is in the Smithsonian...the recipients of praise: Chateau Montelena (at left) and Stag's Leap.

The one thing I came away with is that I would rather be drinking it than making it.

Bottom's up!

THE REPLACEMENT

In yesterday's post I told you that I had finally convinced Henry to dump my ticket. I just thought I would share with you the purchaser of my season ticket.

It looks to me as though Henry is completely distraught that I am not at the game with him for the year. What do you think??

CHARGER INSANITY

The first regular Charger game of the season is tomorrow. For the first time I do not have to feel bad about not going to the game. Three years ago I used to grudgingly go to the games. Let's face it, it is hard to knit at football games. People jump up and down, they fight, they scream obscenities, they drink, beer gets sloshed, people get sloshed. Just my kind of place. Add to that the fact that Henry decided that to get a good parking place one had to be there at 8:30 am for a 1 pm kickoff. I said...enough.

Then we went through a year of me feeling bad and trying to help Henry sell the tickets: side of the road, stub hub, any person standing.... I said DONE!!

This year he has sold my ticket to his "football girlfriend". I said PERFECT.

Now we get to the insanity part of the program. Henry does not want to fight the crowds at the game for parking. Let me lay out the program for you....

• Henry drives to his "favorite" parking space on Saturday (not a misspell). This allegedly makes his car happy!
• He takes the trolly from his fave parking space to Fashion Valley Mall, where he meets me at Bloomingdale's.
• He then rides home with me.
• Sunday, the day of the game his friend Ken picks him up at 8:30 and they head down to Ken's Quizno's.
• Henry takes the trolley from Hazard Center to the game.
• From the game he takes his car home.

Remember he does all of this to avoid being in 15 minutes of traffic on Sunday to find a parking space. They're coming to take him away.....

BANGKOK DANGEROUS

OK!
I admit it...I love Nicholas Cage. The funny voice, the blue eyes, what can I say. It is a secret I tell few people. To love Nicholas Cage you must be prepared to expect very little from a Nicholas Cage (Bangkok Dangerous, in this case) movie...if you expect anything you will most likely be disappointed.

If you are a Nick Cage Voice Hater (NCVH) this is your movie. Fewer words were spoken in this movie than in any movie I have seen in a long time. Lots of intense stares, meaningful stares, lustful stares; well, just stares (good for the NC eye addict). Why was it quiet, you ask? It takes place in Bangkok (hence the name) and he speaks zero Thai, the people in the movie speak Thai so there are subtitles (partially blocked by the rail and my feet--but it did not matter). Then he falls inexplicably in love (ergo the lustful stares) with a Thai deaf woman, who evidently speaks no English but signs to him in Thai which he suddenly understands (typical movie fare).

Now is where you would expect me to say that the plot thickens. However, to do this there would have to be a plot. From the moment the movie started you knew what would happen, but sometimes that is comforting. In that way your mind can wander...to elephants...

I was fascinated with the fact that elephants apparently roam the streets of Bangkok freely. I love that the man in the left picture had no problem ignoring the 2 ton elephant in the room and continued eating his meal.

I was fascinated with NC unkempt dyed black hair (Lisa Marie called and she wants her Nice and Easy back).

I was fascinated with the use of the hackneyed line "He's only one man!" He's only one man means many people are STBD (Soon to be Dead). He's only one man means that he will ride in on his white horse (motorcycle) with two guns, kill a zillion people with the two guns (and no additional ammo), and, of course, get the bad guy. Oh, did I ruin it for you??...come on now. Everyone knew what would happen the moment the movie started...

Needless to say, I liked it. Add to it a preview for Transporter 3, and it was a good day.

A-pal(l)in-g

I would be remiss if I did not comment on our current situation. Firstly, without Sarah Palin even I would be tempted to vote McCain. With Sarah Palin there is quite simply no way in hell. At this point the fact that she has ovaries is her only appealing attribute. She embodies everything that I find hideous. She kills things for God's sake, a Caribou--who or why would anyone kill a Caribou. How have we slipped to this?

I have been a fan of Katrina vanden Heuvel of The Nation for a long time (at least a week) and thought that her article is a must read. Sit back and enjoy!

THE CALL HOME

Many of you who have children who go away to college go through the communication withdrawal. You were with them every minute. You saw them all the time. They needed you. Even if that need extended to a roof over their head and food and transportation in their view. In your view, they needed guidance your wisdom and the ability for you to help them map out the course of their lives. Reality is probably a little bit of both.

Remember the scene from the movie ET..."phone home."

Cliff phoning home has been the topic of conversation for days. From Henry...he is incommunicado...something is wrong. From Betsy...he has not answered my emails. From me...don't look at me he is not responding to me either.

Then it happened. The phone rang. Caller ID said Cliff. I could not get the phone to my ear quickly enough. I was thrilled. I could report that he called. That we had a "conversation"; actually spoke. OMG! A miracle. His voice filled the airwaves: "Mom, who does James Spader play on Boston Legal." "Alan Shore!" I replied. "Thanks."...and he was gone.

That is it. I have become the person to call if you no longer have a Blackberry and can google IMDB for James Spader. I am the repository of trivial information regarding television shows, movies, and books, past and present. The person who knows the six degrees of separation for everyone in a tv show...and for this, my friend, I am ecstatic that I was the recipient of the Cliff call of the week.

Perhaps, I should just tell everyone that he called and that we spoke at length. A little white lie wouldn't hurt anyone, would it?

THE MISSING HAT

As Eminem once said: Back to reality. Oops. Here comes gravity.

Vacation is definitely over.

If something is missing around the house why does everyone look to me. Did I take it...move it...see it...touch it... The only thing unasked is did I put it away, we all know that that would never happen. Henry just spent a half hour looking for his yellow USPS hat with the insignia for the Tour de France (he was a little jealous of Michael's because it was signed by Lance Armstrong).

He had it on last night--where did it go? After him tearing around the house like a madman, I said I would go look.

Immediately found the hat that he had had on last night, which was blue and said Taylormade, not yellow and USPS. I know you are wondering how I knew what hat he was wearing. Simple. He sat across from me and when he is across from me and eating all I can see is the hat (which is why I would prefer he remove it while eating--a little sidebar, sorry!)

His response, "Oh, maybe it is in the car." Out he goes, cheerily to find his hat on the seat of the car. No apologies for the rants, the accusations are over. Order has been restored to the kingdom.

What is that old conundum--"If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" If Henry is the only person in the kitchen and a plate breaks just remember "he did not touch it, do it, drop it."

Well, I am back at work today...the night shift. When I get home Project Runway will be over. After last week's project, no doubt this week they will be reassembling a house to spark their creative force. I think that maybe they went just a tad bit tooooooo far last week. But still some pretty incredible designs came out...oh, yeah, some pretty incredibly hideous things as well. All in all, anything they did was better than I could do or even think of so who am I to talk or write, however, I do not think that this season has been as good as season's past. There is really no "bad boy"--I think that was supposed to be Stella this year but I am even beginning to like her. There is no Wendy Pepper to liven things up (I'm a pepper wouldn't you like to be a pepper too?) or Laura Bryant's elegant sophistication (and life budget for Manolo's). Incidentally Laura's goodies are now at QVC. I am rambling, obviously.

ELEGY

OK. Here goes. My first blog...my original thought was to journal...but this is much easier. I am sure that you are wondering from where the name comes. Caryl and I were traveling in BFE Colorado and we were lost and looked up and saw this sign...it seemed like an omen

A day off...the lure of a movie with the best popcorn in town (almost makes up for the worst seats in the city). Elegy with Patricia Clarkson, Ben Kingsley, Dennis Hopper, and the impossibly beautiful Penelope Cruz. An overwhelming feeling of sadness envelopes one while you traverse Kingsley's empty life. Fabulous acting (or should I say fabuloso).

I was the third person in the theater. I took my seat in the middle seat in the middle row in theater two. The next two people who came in walked through the empty theater and selected the seat next to me...and they were loud talkers...Talk talk talking about Sara Palin....the child bearing, gun toting, oil drilling, son of a preacher man (don't know about this, but Bobbi Gentry would have had a field day with this one). Are we supposed to turn to her because she has ovaries?? OMG...shoot me now (oops! she just might).