Deer Droppings--In the News

I don't usually make the habit of releasing my videos back to back. I like to intersperse them with the other writing, so I create a variety of content for my loyal readers. (Of which I am sure there are millions, if not billions. Or at least three or four.)

Anyway, because this song parody of the Andrews Sisters/Bette Midler classic "In the Mood" is a humorous look at the current state of our country, I thought it only appropriate to release it on the birthday of America's beginning.

So please click on the photo above to watch a short one minute video from the "Deer Droppings" series called "In the News." Afterwards, I welcome you to share your own thoughts, even if they disagree with what the deer is singing.

Celebrity Mystery in Madrid

Please click on the photo above to watch another episode in the "Celebrity Mystery" series. In this installment, Fritz Freewhenever travels to Madrid, Spain to investigate another series of bizarre celebrity sightings, including Antonio Banderas and Penelope Cruz.

The Incredible Lightness of Blogging

Ever since I can remember, I’ve enjoyed writing down my thoughts. Even if it was only for little notes I’d pass to friends in Algebra class, I always made the most of my writing endeavors. My teachers were not always thrilled with my literary accomplishments, however. Especially on the days when my private missives were rudely intercepted by the Teacher’s Pet. (And I mean this literally. Our Algebra Instructor had a lizard in her class, which had a nasty habit of hopping out of its cage to chase after the many notes I’d throw to my friends on the other side of the room. If the Lizard was lucky enough to retrieve one, he would immediately run to the front of the class and deposit his “treasure” at our teacher’s feet. This led to a very uncomfortable confrontation between the teacher, the lizard and me; the end result being a week of detention for me and an extra can of crickets for the lizard. Needless to say, I’ve never been very fond of either Math or Reptiles.)

At any rate, once I learned about blogging, I thought this would be a perfect avenue for my “note” writing. I could jot down my thoughts about anything and everything, and then send them out into the world to see where they landed. If someone read them, fine. If not, they would just meld into the ever-growing universe of data out in cyberspace. But even then, I still felt like I was contributing to something. (Even if what I was contributing to was just a giant junk pile of jargon.)

Today I am celebrating another year of sending my missives out into the world via the Internet. It has been a great experience, allowing me to write about topics I wouldn’t normally give much attention to. (At least not in public.) But the universe is vast, and so are the topics in which to cover. And though I tend to gravitate toward the amusing side of pop culture, there are other times when I’ve felt like ranting on topics of a much more serious nature. (Not TOO serious, though. There’s only so much grimacing one can do in a day before it starts to affect the elasticity of your skin.)

Therefore, I try to keep my “column” light and reader-friendly, looking at the world through humorous-colored glasses. I find that it’s much easier to attract readers if you keep things light. And they might even come back more than once if they find your writing funny. (Even if they only come back to drop another Entrecard in your box, it’s still an opportunity for you to grab their attention.)

In conclusion, this blog has given me a great outlet for my creativity and imagination to run wild. So if you care to join me on my journey at any of the various “stops” (i.e. postings) along the way, I welcome your company. And don't feel the need to bring any of your own baggage with you. Because with me, you’ll always be traveling “light.”

The Anemic and Apathetic Acting of Nicholas Cage

Could someone please tell Nicholas Cage to wake up? Or at least express some kind of emotion other than boredom. Lately, it seems like he’s walking through his films with an indifference one might interpret as condescension—as if he believes his talent is far better than the material he’s appearing in. (Which frankly doesn’t say much about either.)

I recently saw two of Mr. Cage’s more recent movies “The Wicker Man” and “Next,” and couldn’t believe how similar the characters were. Not only that, but they also both shared the same bad hairstyle, which looked like a cross between Bozo the clown and Gene Wilder from “Young Frankenstein.” (Or even Frankenstein himself.) I’m pretty sure Mr. Cage is losing his hair, or has already lost it and is now attempting to cover it up with some kind of rat’s nest. But no matter how follicly challenged he might be, the Albert Einstein inspired hairpiece is not a flattering alternative. Better to be bald than run around looking like the male Amy Winehouse.

In both films, Mr. Cage plays the typical Nice-Guy-Next-Door with a quiet determination to be the dullest Sad Sack you ever witnessed on screen. His non-committal acting style comes across as arrogant and self-indulgent, as if he doesn’t even have enough energy or desire to say his lines or show any emotion other than apathy. His facial expression appears to be permanently frozen in a sour semi-frown, perhaps indicating his distaste for the crappy material he must constantly appear in to maintain his A-List status. What happened to the happier days of “Birdy” or “Moonstruck” or even “Leaving Las Vegas”? Those were inspired Nicholas Cage movies, before he began taking himself too seriously and literally “checking out” from his films.

Because other than trying to turn a quick profit with a mediocre product, there is simply no other explanation why a piece of crap like “The Wicker Man” ever got past the editing room floor. It is not only boring and contrived, but the “shocking” ending is more of a relief than a tragedy. At least we didn’t have to watch Mr. Cage try to “act” anymore. (That is, if you can actually call what he was doing “acting.” Because to me it didn’t look like he even showed up for work. His body was certainly there, but I’m not sure where the rest of him was.) If you haven’t seen the film, don’t bother. It’s pointless. He dies. And guess what? You won’t even care.

Which brings me to the other Nicholas Cage vehicle, “Next,” where Mr. Cage once again plays a mopey Nice-Guy-Next-Door, who also happens to have a special power--he can see two minutes into the future, so he knows everything that’s going to happen right before it does. And you know what? So does the audience. Except we know what’s going to happen twenty minutes before. Or perhaps an hour. So maybe the audience has special powers too, and it’s really Mr. Cage who needs to catch up.

And don’t even get me started on Julianne Moore’s ridiculous interpretation of an FBI Officer in the film. (Or whatever she was.) Her scowl-ridden performance is not only a complete contradiction to her wrinkle-free image as a spokesperson for Revlon, but it’s also incredibly similar to other roles she’s played in the past. Only this time, she’s blended them all together into a Stepford version of herself, showing even less emotion than Mr. Cage (if such a thing is possible).

In conclusion, I hope if Mr. Cage continues with his acting career, he picks projects that he’s actually excited about doing, so that we’ll finally see some of that energy on screen. Because right now, I feel like I’m watching the video game version of his character, rather than the actual three dimensional person.

But that’s just me. What do you think of Nicholas Cage’s recent acting endeavors? (Or even his hair?)

Taming the Terrible Talker with the Two Minute Tip

Have you ever been to a social get-together where one overly-talkative person “hogs” the conversation? No matter how many times other people try to contribute, they are constantly interrupted by the “hog’s” incessant need to speak? And though everyone around him seems to notice his lack of social etiquette, nobody is rude enough to point it out. So the “hog” continues to roll around in his own mud, spewing out stories and anecdotes until you are literally covered in his material. It becomes more of a “Hogversation” than a true social interaction, leaving the participants feeling tired and suffocated by such a domineering orator.

But how do you tactfully tell someone to shut up when you are certain to hurt their feelings and cause embarrassment to everyone around them? It is not an easy thing to accomplish, especially if the oblivious talkers assume their listeners are thoroughly captivated with lengthy diatribes. (Stay-at-home parents are often guilty of this type of excessive talking, as they are usually hungry to speak to anyone over the age of ten. These types of diatribes are sometimes sub-categorized as “Momversations,” referring to the repetitive nature of the subject matter.)

My favorite rule of thumb is to gently introduce the “Two Minute Rule” into the conversation. The basis of the Two Minute Rule is pretty simple--NEVER dominate a conversation for more than two minutes. To talk longer than two minutes makes you sound like you're giving a speech, and this should be avoided at all costs. True, some stories might take longer than two minutes to tell, so naturally there are exceptions to this rule. But if you tend to be the type of person that links five or six stories together without taking a breath, than perhaps you too suffer from “Hogversation.” It’s much better to bring up a topic, ask others what their opinions are, and then contribute your ideas or opinions during the intervals.

I have one friend who has a severe case of “Hogversation,” as she happily recounts one tale after another (usually about her children), and seems oblivious that others might want to speak as well. And when the rare opportunity for entry into the conversation is granted, she usually has a better story about your “topic,” and therefore interrupts you to immediately tell it. Most of the time they never get back to your story, and are onto another topic within minutes.

To avoid this type of situation in the future, I suggest instituting the two-minute rule at the beginning of each social gathering. It will make everyone aware of the etiquette right off the bat, so you don’t have to embarrass anyone later. And then if someone does “break” the rule, you can jokingly remind them without making it sound like an attack. You can even make a game of it. (“Hey, let’s play the two minute rule tonight. Anyone who breaks it has to take a drink.”) Not that you necessarily have to make every conversation a drinking game, but you get the idea.

But that’s just me. How do you tactfully train a Conversation Hog?

Celebrity Mystery in London--LOST FOOTAGE

Please click on the image above to watch a short sequence that was cut from Fritz Freewhenever's latest news report, "Reality Stars on a Rampage."

Celebrity Mystery in London

Reality Stars on a Rampage? Click on the photo above to watch the latest humorous news report from Fritz Freewhenever on yet another "shocking celebrity mystery." This time from London, England.

Secret Society of Celebrities

Please click on the link below to watch another humorous report featuring Fritz Freewhenever investigating mysterious celebrity sightings in Plainfield. The link will open up a new window on YouTube. 

Secret Society of Celebrities

Enjoy!

Celebrity Mystery in Plainfield NJ

Hit the play button above to watch a humorous story about celebrity sightings in my hometown. Just another example of the strange things happening around here.

In New Jersey, "Driving" Means Never Having to Say You’re Sorry

Some of you might remember the famous catch phrase from the movie “Love Story,” that told us “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” Of course, that kind of thinking is not only ignorant, but downright dangerous. Particularly because I think some drivers in New Jersey have actually taken that old tagline to heart. Swerving in and out of traffic, at speeds rivaling the Indy 500, many drivers in New Jersey live in a world all their own. A world that’s free of restrictions and boundaries, where every day is an opportunity for another exciting thrill ride. You see, rules don’t apply to this type of driver, because they’re above the law. They’re special. Or at least they view themselves that way.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve witnessed near misses when it comes to potential accidents while driving. And it’s not just “Speed Racers” that are the problem. There are also the “Horse and Buggy” drivers, who slow traffic down to a stand still every time they enter or leave traffic. For these drivers, caution is the keyword, and they use it with unapologetic excess.

Unfortunately, they don’t always bother to look out for oncoming traffic when they enter a roadway. They just sort of thrust themselves forward and hope for the best. As you might imagine, most of these drivers are of the elderly variety, some of whom should probably have retired from driving long ago. But there are also some younger drivers who adhere to this principal, particularly when they are planning to turn off the road. They begin slowing down a mile from their exit, flashing their blinkers and drifting on and off the shoulder, until they finally get to their much anticipated change of direction. That’s when the brakes are fully applied, so they can accomplish the incredibly difficult task of turning the wheel. This method of stopping completely before turning has caused more accidents than I care to count.

But if “Horse and Buggy” drivers are overly-cautious, the “Liberty Cells” are just the opposite. With their blue-tooth attachments or cell-to-ear technology, they don’t have time to pay proper attention to rules and regulations. They have calls to make, things to say, people to talk to. All of which leaves them very little time to watch out for other cars when they’re changing lanes, or assuming that a red light means they actually have to stop. Those policies don’t apply to them because they’re in the middle of a conversation, and they certainly aren’t going to let “driving” distract them from that. It would mean interrupting their important train of thought, which to them is a clear violation of their “freedom of speech.”

Then of course, there are the “Puddle Jumpers,” those whimsical mischief makers that simply can’t decide which lane they want to be in. So they make quick decisions, and jump over to the next lane regardless of how close they might come to the car in front or behind them. These drivers live by the “grass is always greener on the other side of the fence” philosophy, assuming that whichever lane they aren’t in must be better for some reason. So their journey becomes a never ending game of hopscotch, as they skip back and forth between lanes, second-guessing their decisions and then skipping back. And it doesn’t seem to matter if there’s barely a car-length available for them to skip into; if they need to get over there, they’ll make themselves fit. Naturally, these people tend to suffer from other types of maladies as well, such as schizophrenia, bi-polar disorder or ADD.

Now why, you might wonder, am I crediting New Jersey with exclusive ownership for these types of drivers? Surely these categories exist in other states as well. Yes, that may be true. But in New Jersey, there seems to be an overabundance of “entitlement” that makes your daily journey on the roadways a living re-enactment of “Grand Theft Auto.”

But why New Jersey? Why do so many aggressive or oblivious drivers seem to aggregate in the Garden State? Well, after much contemplation and theoretical debate, I think I’ve finally come up with a hypothesis.

The reason that New Jersey drivers don’t follow rules is because of the Jughandles. Those weird little turn-arounds that make you go right when you want to turn left. That is the precedent, the very principle which guides New Jersey drivers wherever they go. If the convention of having to go in the opposite direction to get somewhere is a standard practice, then why wouldn’t the opposite be true in other circumstances too?

For instance, if they tell you not to speed, you actually can. Or if they tell you not to change lanes without a turn signal, who cares? As long as you’re turning right to go left, you’re following the rules. Rules, that for New Jersey drivers, were made to be broken.

But that’s just me. What do you think of driving in New Jersey?

Pardon Me Boys, Is that the LindsayBritneyParis?

(Sung to the tune of "Chattanooga Choo Choo")

Pardon Me, Boys,
Is that the LindsayBritneyParis?
All clubbing at Hyde,
Boy, can you get me inside?

I want to see…when they start dancing on the tables,
Snorting up Coke,
Or maybe taking a toke.

They cause immediate sensation when they go on the town,
The paparazzi treat them like they’re some kind of clown,
Photos are a mainstay,
Even of Vajajay,
Nothing is off limits with these girls around.

When the party’s over and they go to their cars,
Inebriated bodies that won’t get very far,
Someone drops a doobie,
Someone shows her booby,
Boy, these girls are better than a stripper bar.

They’ve gotta be…the favorite train wreck of the nation,
Six o’clock News,
Their stories give me the blues.

Hearing them speak, you’ll think they all came from the same damn clone,
Oh LindsayBritneyParis, won’t you please just stay home?