At Club Nokia this week PEE WEE Herman is HUGE.
A sold out crowd of beaming fans jump to their feet to give him a roaring ovation as he steps out onto the stage. IT'S PEE WEE, he hasn't changed! Same skinny little guy in a buzz cut, undersized grey suit, bow tie and white loafers. His fans erupt again in another riotous outburst as he asks them to follow him in the pledge of allegiance. Still more thunderous applause as the curtain parts to reveal the beloved set from a generation ago. It's Pee Wee's Playhouse, the way we remember it! It's all there--Chairry, the jigsaw puzzle red vinyl door, the bent yellow window frame, the singing flowers, the wild pastel and neon colors.
Whoa! The crowd screams with delight as each of their favorites joins Pee Wee. First Cowboy Curtis-- played originally by Lawrence Fishburne --- then Miss Yvonne, Jambi and all the familiar puppets big and small like Chairry, Pterri and Globey. It's a rollicking family reunion with a few stand-ins for those who couldn't make it. Mailman Mike has replaced Reba the Mail Lady and several new characters take a bow, foremost among them being the boricua- dancing electrician Sergio. Sadly, the Captain Carl character-- is noticeably absent--most likely in honor of the late Phil Hartman who played him originally.
There are vintage Pee Wee lines ("I know you are but what am I"), patented Pee Wee moves (his Tequila dance), along with contemporary references.
For the mostly 30-and 40-something Pee Wee fans it is a night rich in nostalgia, hilarity and elation.
Of course V and I would not have attended something like this. Especially not when SPIKE is showing re-runs every night this week of last year's Brock Lesnar-Randy Couture cage match.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Smell the Gardenias
"See something beautiful every day."
---my great grandmother
"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture and, if it be possible, speak a few reasonable words."
---Goethe
"Do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight."
---KC & the Sunshine Band
---my great grandmother
"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture and, if it be possible, speak a few reasonable words."
---Goethe
"Do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight."
---KC & the Sunshine Band
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Consequential Strangers
We are grateful for the encouraging responses to the blog including this one in response to the first blog, "Esther":
"Delightful exchange. Have you read Consequential Strangers about the significance of those we meet in our everyday life? Your charming conversation with Esther is a prime example of people connecting to people simply because they make the effort."
Much appreciated.
Consesequential Strangers: the Power of People Who Don't Seem to Matter by Melinda Blau was deemed "one of the 15 Best Shareable Books of 2009" and rates 4 stars on Amazon.
"Delightful exchange. Have you read Consequential Strangers about the significance of those we meet in our everyday life? Your charming conversation with Esther is a prime example of people connecting to people simply because they make the effort."
Much appreciated.
Consesequential Strangers: the Power of People Who Don't Seem to Matter by Melinda Blau was deemed "one of the 15 Best Shareable Books of 2009" and rates 4 stars on Amazon.
Obit of the Week
Paraphrased from the LA Times Obituaries, January 12, 2010
Shahen V. Ghazarbekian, 1932-2009.
Born in Meshad, Iran, to Vartan and his metzmamma, Satenik Ghazarbekian. Emigrated to the U.S. in 1958 where he earned a BS in Physics and then moved to LA where as an inventor and entrepreneur he designed environmentally efficient industrial air conditioning equipment.
A loving husband and father, he was devoted to his 5 grandchildren who knew him as "Gump." A consummate entertainer, he was always ready with songs, jokes and stories for them and taught them the virtues optimism, working hard and having fun.
Among his passions was travel. Every year for over 40 years he explored some exotic corner of the world.
He will be missed by his traveling companions who include his good friend since childhood, Bahman Bozogmehr, his business partner Vazgen Baladjian, his children, his grandchildren and his siblings: Sahak Ghazarbekian, Seboo Hovanessian and Roubik Avenessian.
Shahen V. Ghazarbekian, 1932-2009.
Born in Meshad, Iran, to Vartan and his metzmamma, Satenik Ghazarbekian. Emigrated to the U.S. in 1958 where he earned a BS in Physics and then moved to LA where as an inventor and entrepreneur he designed environmentally efficient industrial air conditioning equipment.
A loving husband and father, he was devoted to his 5 grandchildren who knew him as "Gump." A consummate entertainer, he was always ready with songs, jokes and stories for them and taught them the virtues optimism, working hard and having fun.
Among his passions was travel. Every year for over 40 years he explored some exotic corner of the world.
He will be missed by his traveling companions who include his good friend since childhood, Bahman Bozogmehr, his business partner Vazgen Baladjian, his children, his grandchildren and his siblings: Sahak Ghazarbekian, Seboo Hovanessian and Roubik Avenessian.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Rare Sighting in LA
South El Monte's Legg Lake: rare sighting of a wood stork
December 22, 2009 3:18 pm
Turkish Cowherd, Hattusa, Summer 2008
How long has it been since you last shared an intimate moment with a Turkish cowherd on the ramparts of Hattusa? If you're like me, it has been well over a year since you had the pleasure.
This charming guy sits atop walls built 4,000 years ago to defend the Hittite capital of Hattusa. The Hittites worshipped 1,000 deities. Virtually everything was covered: father, son, holy ghosts, Hanukkah, Kwanza,smoked meat and the rhythm method. Since my wife is an observant Hittite who worships Teshub, the god of thunder, I felt obligated to make the pilgrimage with her to Hattusa which sits on a vast hillside a few hours east of Ankara. Once I caught her worshipping his son Sharruma who was quite the Hittite, if you know what I mean, but that was just youthful indiscretion on her part. Me, I prefer Teshub's wife, Hepatu, the sun goddess, who goes around town standing on a panther. A visitor from Pittsburgh seemed to be smitten by the sword god, known locally as Clarence, whose sword handle is made out of 4 lion's heads. Better that than continuing his devotion to Jerome Bettis doesn't even play for the Steelers any more.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Monica and Willard
V* and I were enjoying a perfect vacation last month in the Caribbean with her family. Great company, excellent accommodations, outstanding home cooking and a perfect beach. One day, as usual, we had the beach to ourselves. We swam, we lounged under the palapa and talked of our great good fortune.
Around mid-day we noticed a middle-aged couple walking along the beach toward us. As they approached we noticed his body movement was erratic. They passed in front of us, turned and then waded into the surf. Out further in the water she paddled about him while he floundered in the waves just as he had on land.
After a few minutes bobbing in the waves they headed back toward shore. As they reached the beach he suddenly fell. She stooped, grabbed his arm and tried to pull him to his feet. But he continued to struggle on all fours. Finally upright, he looked at us, thrust his jaw outward and grinned in triumph. As he hobbled by she paused in front of us. She was of sturdy Nordic stock and sported a short-cropped Girls Athletic Association haircut. I was thinking...leather helmet, shin pads, lacrosse stick in hand. No, more like Brunhilda in full chain mail, massive spear in one hand and swinging a morning star in the other.
She smiled warmly. "Willard*'s getting much better now. He doesn't always know where he is but it is what it is." (What, what is it? we wondered).
"He was squished just like a mayfly on your windshield 4 years ago in a head-on collision. Looked like he was a goner. They had to pry him out of there with the jaws of life and then medevac him by helicopter to Atlanta where he was in intensive care for 4 months."
"Oh, god, that's just...."
"No, no, it's all good. They rebuilt his skull, put his shattered legs and arms in traction and within a year and half he was out of his wheelchair and learning how to walk and talk again."
"Oh, he must be, I mean you must be...."
"No, no, it is what it is. It's all good. But then as soon as he could work again--Willard is a time and motion specialist with the agriculture department--they downsized him and he lost his benefits rating after 35 years with the department."
"Oh, I'm ..."
"No it's all good. Then they transferred him to Bogalusa. You do what you have to do. Then I was transferred from Chattahoochee to Homerville. I'm a nursing instructor."
"That's, that must be just so..."
"It's all good. We both fly back to Chattahoochee every other weekend so we can be together. It is what it is. It's all good."
"Thank goodness for your nursing skills and care taking abilities. You..."
"Yup, it's all good. I'm Monica*, by the way, and today is my birthday." Her eyebrows suddenly shifted upward, her lips started to quiver and her eyes filled with tears. "Yep, November 30, exactly one year since they operated on my brain tumor."
"Oh, Jesus, Monica, I am so terribly ...."
"No,no, it's all good. They seem to have gotten most of it and the severe migraines have gotten much better. It is what it is."
"Well, you are amazing, so strong and ..."
"Yeah, it's all good. Well, really nice talking with you two. Gotta go now. Enjoy." She turned and walked away.
V and I looked at each other, breathless. As soon as she was well out of earshot we both exclaimed in unison, "NO! NO! It's NOT all good!!"
It is now Christmas Eve and we are more thankful than ever for our good health and well being and for that of our dear friends and family.
*denotes use of pseudonym
Around mid-day we noticed a middle-aged couple walking along the beach toward us. As they approached we noticed his body movement was erratic. They passed in front of us, turned and then waded into the surf. Out further in the water she paddled about him while he floundered in the waves just as he had on land.
After a few minutes bobbing in the waves they headed back toward shore. As they reached the beach he suddenly fell. She stooped, grabbed his arm and tried to pull him to his feet. But he continued to struggle on all fours. Finally upright, he looked at us, thrust his jaw outward and grinned in triumph. As he hobbled by she paused in front of us. She was of sturdy Nordic stock and sported a short-cropped Girls Athletic Association haircut. I was thinking...leather helmet, shin pads, lacrosse stick in hand. No, more like Brunhilda in full chain mail, massive spear in one hand and swinging a morning star in the other.
She smiled warmly. "Willard*'s getting much better now. He doesn't always know where he is but it is what it is." (What, what is it? we wondered).
"He was squished just like a mayfly on your windshield 4 years ago in a head-on collision. Looked like he was a goner. They had to pry him out of there with the jaws of life and then medevac him by helicopter to Atlanta where he was in intensive care for 4 months."
"Oh, god, that's just...."
"No, no, it's all good. They rebuilt his skull, put his shattered legs and arms in traction and within a year and half he was out of his wheelchair and learning how to walk and talk again."
"Oh, he must be, I mean you must be...."
"No, no, it is what it is. It's all good. But then as soon as he could work again--Willard is a time and motion specialist with the agriculture department--they downsized him and he lost his benefits rating after 35 years with the department."
"Oh, I'm ..."
"No it's all good. Then they transferred him to Bogalusa. You do what you have to do. Then I was transferred from Chattahoochee to Homerville. I'm a nursing instructor."
"That's, that must be just so..."
"It's all good. We both fly back to Chattahoochee every other weekend so we can be together. It is what it is. It's all good."
"Thank goodness for your nursing skills and care taking abilities. You..."
"Yup, it's all good. I'm Monica*, by the way, and today is my birthday." Her eyebrows suddenly shifted upward, her lips started to quiver and her eyes filled with tears. "Yep, November 30, exactly one year since they operated on my brain tumor."
"Oh, Jesus, Monica, I am so terribly ...."
"No,no, it's all good. They seem to have gotten most of it and the severe migraines have gotten much better. It is what it is."
"Well, you are amazing, so strong and ..."
"Yeah, it's all good. Well, really nice talking with you two. Gotta go now. Enjoy." She turned and walked away.
V and I looked at each other, breathless. As soon as she was well out of earshot we both exclaimed in unison, "NO! NO! It's NOT all good!!"
It is now Christmas Eve and we are more thankful than ever for our good health and well being and for that of our dear friends and family.
*denotes use of pseudonym
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