Cat Clips --Tipi in Blunderland

Please click on the photo above to watch the next episode in the "Cat Clips" series. In this episode: (The first of a multi-episode mini-series) When Tipi follows Tuck as he tries to find Mr. Boots, they both fall down a hole and end up in the mysterious Blunderland.

Cat Clips -- Stepford LIves

Please click on the photo above to watch the next episode in the "Cat Clips" series. In this episode: While the cats discuss Tipi's new affectionate behavior, Tuck tries to escape from her grasp long enough to find the ghost cat, Mr. Boots.

FIND YOUR WAY--A Musical Mockery

It's still a tough economic climate out there, so it seemed like the perfect time for a little motivational song (even if it incorporates a little "tough love"). So please click on the photo above to watch the next video from the "Musical Mockery" series called "Find Your Way." It's a A humorous song to hopefully motivate those who are struggling during these troubling times.

The Death of Icons

They say that major tragedies or deaths always come in threes, and this week proved that theory to be true. First, the passing away of Ed McMahon, a bigger-than-life personality with the signature laugh who made everyone comfortable becoming a couch potato. Then came the death of Farrah Fawcett, the quintessential female pin-up of all time and the reason most women feathered their hair in the seventies and eighties. And finally, last night, the announcement that Michael Jackson had passed away. This man, who was as controversial as he was talented, will always be remembered as the “King of Pop,” a title which no one will likely steal away from him any time soon.

Today, the world is a little sadder and a little less colorful without these three among us. But like most icons, they will live on in our imaginations, in our televisions and in our music for decades to come.

The Soaring Brilliance of "Up"

Last Friday night I went to see the new Disney/Pixar movie “Up,” and after the first ten minutes I’d already decided this film was an animated masterpiece. I won’t give anything away, but the first ten minutes is a little movie all in itself, and can only be described as one of the most touching animated sequences I’ve ever seen. I am still choked up just thinking about it, and I dare anyone not to feel the same.

Okay, moving on. The screening I saw was in 3D, which was pretty cool, although after a while you completely forget about it. (Unless, of course, you find the special glasses particularly uncomfortable.) The theater was packed with adults and kids and lots of teenagers. I was actually surprised at how many packs of teenage boys came together to see this film. When I was a kid, teenage boys would not be caught dead at a Disney film, but I guess Pixar has more of a “cool factor.”

I guess what I liked most about “Up” is how involved I got with the characters, and how much it mattered to me that they succeeded in their quest. I think this movie taps into a lot of emotional and thought-provoking ideas, and I applaud the creators at Pixar for making such a beautiful piece of art.

But that’s just me. What did you think of “Up”?

How Did My Daffodills Become Daffo-DON'Ts?

When it comes to gardening, I have the patience of a firecracker with a lit fuse. As soon as I plant the bulbs in the ground, I want the darn flower to start growing. Who cares if it’s not the right time of year. I just want to see the fruits of my labor---NOW!

That being said, this is only my second year of planting bulbs in the Fall to reap flowers in the Spring, and I have to tell you, this year was a huge failure. It all began last Fall when I noticed that the local population of squirrels was digging up my yard and running away with all my tulip bulbs. I had planted them the previous Fall, and was like an expectant father in the Spring waiting to see them all come up. And bloom they did, filling my yard with an abundance of Holland’s finest, and making me feel like I might had some sort of latent Green Thumb brewing inside of me. But when the trees failed to produce enough nuts and acorns last year, the squirrels began looking for anything as a substitute, and thus my yard full of tulip bulbs was Rota tilled with so many claws and paws that it began to look like a miniature Grand Canyon.

I became quite discouraged, until someone told me that Squirrels don’t eat the Daffodils bulbs because they’re poisonous. And since I no longer had tulips to look forward to, I decided to throw all my energy into Daffodil cultivation. I bought three bags of bulbs, which ended up being a ridiculous 150 bulbs or something. More than enough for my yard, and then some. And so I set to the backbreaking task of digging holes and distributing the bulbs all over the yard. When I was all through, I stepped back to imagine how beautiful it would all look in the Spring. That is, if I could only last through the winter.

Sure enough, in the Spring, the stems began to break through the ground in alarming numbers. I guess 150 daffodils makes more of an impression than I could imagine…especially when they are spread out as individual attractions all over the garden beds. (Only later, in January, did I learn that you should probably cluster them together in groupings.) Nevertheless, I was very excited to see so much new growth, and glad that none of the bulbs had been confiscated by a woodland creature or a jealous neighbor.

After a week or so, I was happy to see some actual blooming flowers, though not all the Daffodils seemed to bloom at the same time. In fact, some of the stems seemed downright opposed to producing anything that even looked like a bud. And that’s the way they remained for the next several weeks. No flowers, just stems. And since only a half dozen of the flowers actually bloomed, I now have a garden bed filled with nothing but stems. It’s like Mortician Addams decided to do my gardening for me.

Can someone please explain to me what I did wrong? Or is this normal? (I’m sure it’s not, but I can dream, can’t I?) Do some of these Daffodils actually produce flowers the second year of cohabitation with the ground? Or am I forever doomed to a sea of stems every Spring?

The Bitter Blandness of Boring Betty

When “Ugly Betty” first premiered several years ago, I'm sure I wasn't the only one confused about the title. Were they actually calling the lead of a prime time TV show "ugly," and in public no less? Even stranger, they seemed to be promoting ugly as a good thing. And true to their word, when poor Betty finally burst upon the scene, she appeared to be a sort of stereotypical assembly of every flaw and physical character imperfection they could find…minus any noticeable zits or warts (which surely might offend the sensitive ABC audience). She did have glasses though. And braces.  And bad hair. Not to mention an incredibly eclectic sense of style which presumably would land her in the "no-dating" zone for most of her hum drum life.

But then, like a glimmer of hope, Betty landed a plum job at a high powered fashion magazine, and it would only be a matter of time before we saw the Ugly Duckling turn into a beautiful swan. After all, that’s what we’ve come to expect from countless Disney movies and romantic comedies…the ugly girl always becomes more pretty than the pretty girl by the end of the film. Well, it’s been three years now, and Betty still looks like the poster child for Blackwell’s Worst Dressed List. True, her outerwear has moved away from looking like an ethnic parade float to a colorful canvas of expensive knits and fabric. But with all her acquired knowledge and face time with so many high fashion divas, you’d think she’d do a much better job of coordinating her daily appearances. As it stands, she still looks likes she’s dressing for a tea party at Salvador Dali’s.

And why, after three years, does she still have braces? She must have the worst dentist in the world, because underneath those metal facades, her teeth look perfectly fine. And what about those thick eyebrows and horrible glasses? Hasn’t her years of employment at Mode taught her anything about personal grooming?

All that aside, my main contention with “Ugly Betty” these days is how boring and bland it’s become. It used to be great to tune in just to hear what clever puns or phrasing Vanessa William’s character would throw around. But now those lines have become predictable, and the plotlines of the show have become tired. I’m so sick of Betty always getting into stupid situations and then being bailed out at the last minute. It’s a formula the show has used from the beginning, but now we’re so used to it, I almost want Betty to fail miserably just so we’ll see something different. She’s the eternal “good girl” whose need to always do the right thing inevitably ends in disaster, with everyone blaming poor Betty for even trying. Been there, done that, let’s move on. And don’t even get me started on her brassy shrew of a sister. Someone needs to put a muzzle on that mouth and teach her a few things about social etiquette.

I hope if Ugly Betty comes back next year, they finally shed the Ugly Betty image and make this girl a real person. Or at least a superficial version of a real person, which is much more than she is right now. Because at the moment, both Ugly Betty and her show are about as interesting and surprising as wet cardboard. And that’s being generous.

But that’s just me. What are your thoughts on Ugly Betty?

Remember When Working “9 to 5” Was Fun?

When I first heard that Alison Janney was tapped to play the Lily Tomlin role in a new musical version of “Nine to Five,” I thought it sounded like pretty inspired casting. After all, who else had that slightly masculine swagger and deadpan delivery that could even come close to Ms. Tomlin’s brilliantly understated performance? No one. Perfect casting.

Brief side note: Nine to Five is one of my all-time favorite comedies. Maybe because it came out at a time in my life when I really needed a good laugh, and that movie struck me as terribly funny. I was already a huge fan of Lily Tomlins from her Laugh-In days, but had been somewhat disappointed with some of her ventures since then. But the combination of Lily with Dolly Parton and Jane Fonda was something akin to magic. Ms. Parton, in particular, was such a welcome surprise as the feisty and vulnerable secretary to Franklin Hart that I went back to see the movie at least three or four times in the next several months. It was a great escape from the troubles of the times.

Which makes it even more interesting that the musical should come out during a time when we are again experiencing pain. As a nation. And with the news increasingly talking of dissent among the masses, it’s the perfect time for something that offers nothing but pure escape and a few genuine laughs. And that’s where the new musical “Nine to Five” finds its place among the new crop of Broadway newbies.

Is it a perfect musical? No. Can Alison Janney really sing? Well, sort of…although there are some real clunkers. Are the supporting players Stephanie J. Block and Megan Hilty up to the challenge of taking on the Jane Fonda and Dolly Parton roles? AND HOW. While no one can touch Ms. Block’s tremendous vocal prowess, Ms. Hilty is a comic genius as the misunderstood sexy office assistant and I found myself watching her most of the time she was on the stage. I’m sure Ms. Parton herself would be proud of the way Ms. Hilty has inhabited her role. Her sincere and vulnerable performance makes you fall in love with her almost immediately.

The one thing I found particularly amusing about the show was how they copied some of the actual costumes from the movie almost identically. Even down to the blue coat Dolly Parton wore during the hospital scene. I wasn’t sure if it was intended as a homage, or whether the costume designer just didn’t have any ideas of her own, but it was a little eerie to see almost the same clothes from decades ago. (Could they all have still been in Ms. Parton’s closet?)

There were some liberties taken with the show, and some sequences condensed from the movie, but overall it was pretty faithful to the original concept, plot and characters. Violet (the Alison Janney/Lily Tomlin role) now has an office romance, and the pot fantasy sequences aren’t as effective on the stage, but the show is a nice addition to the Broadway catalog and I hope it does well in this tough economic environment. And with Dolly at the helm, anything is possible.

The Unexpected Surprise of a Stranger’s Support

“I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” Those fateful words, uttered by Blanche Dubois in the classic Tennessee William’s play “A Streetcar Named Desire,” have always struck me as a little odd. Mostly because I have never depended on the kindness of anyone, let alone a stranger. Though it certainly would be nice to rely on perfect strangers to get me through my life, I realized quite early that you can’t really depend on anyone. With the possible exception of your immediate family and a few close friends, most of the people you rely on in life tend to let you down.

And before you think me too cynical, I’m only suggesting that going through life with the philosophy that other people should take care of you is most likely going to result in many disappointments and heartache. Unless, of course, you happen to look like a supermodel, in which case, you can probably subscribe to Blanche’s method of acquisition and do very well at it too. Not being a supermodel myself, I’ve found that anything I really want to achieve, I can only rely on myself to get there.

That’s why it's always such a pleasant surprise when somebody decides to take it upon themselves to help you out. Without any idea of gain on their part, or any solicitation from you, someone independently gives you a little show of support. These are the kinds of things we can never depend on, but always benefit greatly from. Not only because it's one of those little moments in life that take you by surprise, but also because you are reminded of the generosity and kindness of others. (Strangers or not.)

This happened to me recently. I have several people on YouTube that I maintain an ongoing casual friendship with, mostly because we share similar interests in video production, creative ideas or our love for animals. It is similar to some of the wonderful friendships I have established through this blog. It was one of these unique individuals, Twish1999, who one day decided that I needed more subscribers and viewers for my YouTube efforts, as she thought my “Cat Clips” were especially worthy of attention. She also thought it wrong that YouTube recently turned me down as a partner, and figured that a boost in subscribers might help the cause.

You can imagine how touched I was that anyone would care, let alone do something about it. But true to her word, Twish1999 created a video for her subscriber base (currently in excess of 1,800) that not only introduced my Cat Clips to all her friends, but also showed several clips from her favorite Cat Clips videos as well. The result of this incredibly selfless act was a boost of nearly 90 new subscribers over the following week. Not only was I floored, but very appreciative as well.

Twish1999, also known as Trish, is a very creative British woman who always has some kind of interesting video to share. Whether it’s giving us a pleasant little walk around her beautiful English village, or creating some kind of funny video using her cats or other subjects, or sharing a funny little poem she created, Trish is always delighting her fans with something unique and interesting. She is one of several people I follow on YouTube on a regular basis. And though we are technically still strangers, the bond of mutual interests has brought us together as friends in the amazing world of cyberspace.

And the amazing show of support didn’t end with Twish1999, as now other subscribers have jumped on the bandwagon to help me out as well. It’s amazing to think that something you do could affect people in such a positive manner that they want to go to bat for you. Needless to say, I am learning a great deal from my adventures on the World Wide Web.

But that’s just me. What has someone surprised you with lately?

Flipping and Folding is Fun for Lazy Launderer

One of my least favorite activities in the world is to do my own laundry. I never seem to have the time or desire to actually perform this domestic ritual, even though I have a perfectly functioning washer and dryer in my basement. And though I’m embarrassed to admit it, there have been times when my laundry basket has not only overflowed, but actually leaped into the rest of the room, forming one of those large monolithic mounds like Richard Dreyfus made in “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” And only when the mountain became so large that I could actually ski from the top to the bottom would I finally stuff it all into my two colorful laundry bags and cart them down to the local laundry mat, where they charged $.90 a pound to wash it for me.

I know, I know. One of the biggest time and money wasters ever…not to mention a clear indication of how lazy I can be when it comes to carrying out normal household tasks. (Did I mention I have a maid who comes in twice a month as well? But that’s a different story.)

Anyway, once the economy started going into freefall last year, I had to make some big sacrifices when it came to unnecessary expenditures. Naturally, one of the first things to go was my semi-quarterly trip to the laundry mat and all those embarrassing conversations I would have with the elderly lady who washed my clothing. Because even though she was very sweet and looked a little like Aunt Bee from Mayberry, I always had the feeling she was laughing about something. I wasn’t sure if it was my taste in clothing, or the colorful Ginch Gonch underwear I had in my collection, or just the fact that I only brought my laundry in when it weighed more than a Sumu wrestler. But there was definitely something that made her smile every time she’d see me. Well, smile and also groan a little.

But now that I do my laundry at home, I no longer see Aunt Bee. And for a while there, people probably couldn’t tell the difference between my dirty laundry and my clean clothing, as the inclusion of folds and wrinkles were evident in both. What can I say? I hated folding laundry. And sometimes I’d let the laundry sit in the dryer for so many days before folding it, my shirts started looking like crepe paper. For Halloween, I even draped myself with some of my dirty clothes and went as a laundry basket. Everyone thought I was so clever, but I really had nothing else to wear.

My life and demeanor were slowly becoming more and more Neanderthal, all because I didn’t have the time or patience to do my laundry properly. That is, until one day I was surfing the web, and happened upon this new miracle item known as a Flip-and-Fold. It’s a very simple and ingenious contraption that allows you to fold all your shirts to the exact same size…every single time. No more guessing which sleeve to tuck or crease to fold. It’s all done for you with a few simple flips and folds. And what’s more, it’s actually fun.

Once I got this product and actually began using it, my laundry was not such a pain any more. And sometimes, I actually looked forward to doing it. Why? Because when you have something that allows you to easily fold and organize your clothes in a civil manner, it gives you a sense of pride in your work and your appearance. No longer am I subject to t-shirts that look like dirty napkins, or pullovers that look like I slept in them. Now all my clothing comes out perfectly folded and stacked and ready for wearing.

In fact, I was so impressed with the Flip and Fold that I actually bought everyone in my family one of their very own for Christmas this past year. And not only do they all use it, but every single one of them has thanked me heartily for the ingenious device. One of my nephews even likes it so much, he now helps his mom with the laundry every week. Talk about a miracle!

But that’s just me. Do you have any contraptions that help make your laundry experience easier?

When an Innocent Prank Goes Too Far

There are NOT many things in my life that I regret doing. Mostly because there’s really no point. Regret is a waste of time which can sometimes lead you down a very unhealthy path. However, there is one particular incident that occurred in my “innocent days” that I wish I’d thought about more carefully before proceeding. Because what seemed like a very innocent prank at the time soon spiraled out of control and ended up “biting me in the ass” in the worst possible way.

It all began when I got a part-time job as a telemarketer to help subsidize my other part-time job, which wasn’t exactly paying enough for me to survive in the Big Apple. (This was obviously many, many years ago when I first moved to NYC…Young, Bright, Energetic…I was ready to take on the world…Sigh!) Anyway, between selling Weekly Reader products, Phone Services, Bottled Water and Accidental Death and Dismemberment Insurance, I made some great friends among my co-workers. Especially because we could all commiserate about how much we hated telemarketing, and how we were only working there until we got our “big breaks,” whatever those happened to be.

Eventually I became part of a click that sat in a certain area of the room each night, swapping stories and jokes between phone calls. We’d bitch and moan about everything, including our roommates, parents, job interviews, acting auditions, whatever. It was a great place to vent and let off steam, and so a lot of stories came out that you wouldn’t necessarily share with your best friend—particularly if the stories happened to be about your best friend. Which sometimes mine were.

(Quick back story: In my early days of NYC, I lived with a college friend who was somewhat of a hot head. And although we got along most of the time, there were moments when he would flare up at me or at other people, and become the biggest “drama queen” on earth. His outbursts became sort of a running joke with me, because after witnessing several of them, they never had as much weight. Like the boy who cried Wolf. If your general demeanor includes yelling and screaming on a regular basis, people don’t take you quite as seriously any more. Plus, if you’re a rather funny, dramatic person to begin with, your anger doesn’t have quite the same bite. And despite all that, my Hot Head friend was a very nice and generous person…most of the time.)

That being said, it should come as no surprise that my Hot Head friend became the target of many of my bitching sessions at the telemarketing job. So much so that several people said they would never want to meet him in person, because they’d probably punch him in the face. I guess my somewhat exaggerated portrayals of him might have painted a bleaker picture than was actually there, but not by much. And my Hot Head friend was not unaware of his reputation. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. So when I’d occasionally tell him about my friends at work, and how much they hated him, he thought it was funny.

Anyway, at some point I developed a very nice friendship with a guy who had recently gotten married and moved to NYC with his wife. We became part of a small group that began to socialize outside of work, our lives becoming even more interconnected than they were before. And so through the natural process of socializing, my friends would now become their friends and vice versa. With one exception. No one wanted to meet my Hot Head friend, as they’d already written him off as “unacceptable.” The most adamant people about not wanting to meet him were the young married couple; who just happened to be the exact people I would most want to get along with him. And since I’d always referred to the Hot Head by his real name, I couldn’t exactly pass him off as someone else. Or could I?

And this is where the story starts getting uncomfortable…at least for me. Because I felt like I was in a bit of a dilemma. I hated having to split my time between my new friends and my Hot Head friend. I wanted them all to mix together, and get to know each other, and then I could have the best of both worlds. I knew there was bound to be a social occasion or a party or something where both would eventually be in the same place, so I got this idea about how to lay the ground work for that. What if I introduced my Hot Head friend to the married couple as someone else? That way, they could get to know him as a person, and not as the monster I’d colorfully created of him. And once they got to like him (as most people did), then I could tell them who he really was, and we’d all have a great laugh. At least that was the plan.

Then one night, the wife got free tickets to a show and asked if I wanted to go with them and bring someone along. I thought this was the perfect opportunity for them to meet Hot Head. I suggested we all go out to dinner first, so they’d really get a chance to talk to him, and meet the real person. Hot Head was more than willing to comply, as he loved the idea of becoming someone else for the evening, a great opportunity for him to display his many acting talents. And he did. He was very funny, down to earth and charming, and I could tell the young couple really liked him. So much so, that I wasn’t really sure how to broach the truth at that moment. We were all having such a great time that I didn’t want to ruin it by blowing Hot Head’s cover. So I didn’t. Nor did I tell them the following day when they called to say how much they enjoyed Hot Head and how funny they thought he was. Nor the following week when they asked when we could all go out together again.

And that’s when it finally dawned on me what a stupid thing I’d done. It never occurred to me that I might be breaking their trust by pulling this stunt, as I thought it would all be over in one night. But since I’d now dragged it on for a few weeks, it was becoming more and more uncomfortable to deal with.

So one day at work, I decided it was time to come clean and I told the friend what I’d done. I was hoping he would find the whole thing funny, and maybe punch me on the arm or something. But he didn’t do that. In fact, he didn’t do anything for a few moments. He just stared at me, as if he was trying to see something in my face that he hadn’t noticed before. At that moment, I felt like the worst human being in the world, and apologized profusely for lying to him. I defended my actions by saying that I was only trying to integrate Hot Head into the group, because I felt like I’d misrepresented him during my bitch sessions. And since the couple had told me they’d never want to meet him, I thought the disguise would help them see who he really was. It didn’t.

In fact, it ruined our friendship. And even though the married couple said they weren’t that upset by the incident, we slowly drifted apart and eventually the guy couldn’t even look at me at work. My frequent attempts at rekindling our friendship were met with icy excuses and evasiveness. And though I never intended to hurt anyone, I realized that I’d broken the one thing that keeps friendship going through all adversity---trust. Without trust, there is no reason to give someone your time, energy or attention. And that is exactly what the young couple felt about me. That I wasn’t worth their time. It was a sobering jolt to my carefree existence, and an experience that has haunted me for years. If only I hadn’t done that. If only I’d handled it better. If only…

As I said before, regret is not a path I often go down. And though I definitely regret my actions in this matter, I learned such a valuable lesson about friendship that I’ve never done anything like that to anyone again. I guess that’s why I’ve never particularly liked Ashton Kutcher’s show “Punk’d.” How can he sleep at night?

But that’s just me. Is there anything you’ve done in your past that you somewhat regret?

And All That Yaz…???

Have any of you seen the recent commercial on TV for a product called Yaz? To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what the product is actually used for, but I think it’s some kind of pregnancy prevention. If you haven’t seen it yet, you are in for a real treat, because it paints a very clear picture of the current disconnect between pharmaceutical advertising and the general public to whom they are “targeting.”

If you usually DVR most of your TV shows like I do, you might not even notice the commercial, as it would probably fly past you without much ballyhoo. But if you should happen to get caught someday watching actual LIVE TV and you have to sit through the commercial, then be prepared for the strangest explanation of a drug you’ve ever heard. And if you’re not paying close attention, you might totally miss all the blatant attempts at toning down all the horrible side effects that could happen should you decide to take the so called medication.

But I digress. Let’s examine this advertising phenomenon from the start. The commercial opens with an attractive woman wandering around a bar or nightclub. There are many people in the background enjoying themselves, and indeed the woman herself is dressed up as if she’s ready for a slinky night on the town. However, before she can go about her business, she feels it necessary to take some time out to talk directly into the camera that is presumably hovering in front of her. And when she speaks, it is with the casual earnestness of someone who is trying to “play” you. Her voice sounds relaxed and genuine, as if she is someone you could definitely trust—perhaps she even reminds you of your best friend or your sister. (Or if you’re a guy, your best friend’s sister.)

But before you have time to wonder what kind of party she’s at, the woman’s tone turns somewhat serious. She explains that she’s there to clear up a few misconceptions about Yaz that previous commercials for the product apparently created. (And you thought she just came to this party to have some fun. Silly You! She actually has an agenda.) And this is where the commercial really starts to get confusing. Because while I was pretty sure the ad was for an oral contraceptive, the woman first launches into all the reasons you should or shouldn’t take the pill if you have mild or moderate acne. Acne? Then she throws in a few laid-back references to a few nasty side effects that might occur should you decide to take the drug, along with a laundry list of other factors you should consider before embarking on this magical journey. And if you smoke—forget about it. Because the drug increases the risk of blood clots, stroke and heart attack. Yipee! Sign me up now. (Well, maybe not me, because I was still pretty sure this was a drug intended for women only. I mean, I certainly didn’t see any men in the background getting Yazzed up about this.)

And if I didn’t think I was confused enough at this point, the woman suddenly threw in a new term I’d never even heard of. PMDD. Because apparently there’s even more confusion over the difference between PMDD and PMS, because if you have PMDD, this drug might not be right for you. Or maybe it would be right for you. I have no idea, because I was not privy to the explanation for this secret acronym. Though evidently everyone at the party was familiar, because the other guests began avoiding this woman like the plague.

Anyway, by the end of the commercial, the woman appeared to have made her way around the club, effectively dropping her words of wisdom wherever she went. I can only imagine that her running commentary on “risk factors” and “serious side effects” must have put a heavy damper on the party atmosphere that evening. Especially if she kept making references to Yaz everywhere she went. I wouldn’t be surprised if she even conducted special seminars in the women’s lounge during dance breaks, complete with gift bags and a power point presentation. I don’t know about you, but I would not want to meet someone like this at any social event I went to.

But that’s just me. What’s your take on this whole Yaz phenomenon?

Musical Mockery #1--One Percent

Did you know that 80% of the world's wealth is owned by only 1% of the world's population?

That is the inspiration for this video I helped make with my friend Michael, which offers a very "futuristic" solution to the current economic crisis. Here's the description: "On the evening before the Great Revolt of 2009, the Leader of the Rebel Faction transmits a special message to the struggling masses to prepare them for the upcoming battle against "the wealthy one percent of the world." To watch the short video, please click on the photo above.

Ten Things I Learned While Playing With My Wii

When I first heard about the Nintendo Wii, I assumed it was just another video game like any other. I had no interest or desire to learn much about it, because I lumped it into the category of “unnecessary timewasters I didn’t subscribe to.” Not to say I didn’t have my own set of timewasters (as my extensive collection of videos certainly proves), but spending time in front of my TV trying to fight and kill enemies and capture tokens was just not my idea of a good time. Then one day, instead of resisting, I actually played a few of the Wii games…and pretty much, after that, I was hooked.

It wasn’t long before I bought the Wii Fit, which includes a balance board/step that you stand on while doing most of the exercises. This might be intimidating for some people, as the daily suggested “Body Test” gives you an ongoing evaluation of your weight gains and losses. But not for me. Especially because the first time I took the daily Body Test, I was rated in the perfect weight range for my age. Naturally, I figured this meant I was in superior physical condition and could easily handle anything the Wii had to throw at me. How wrong I was. To follow are a list of things I learned about myself during my recent encounters with my Wii.

1. I have the worst balance in the world. (Well, maybe not the worst—I think Paula Abdul is pretty unbalanced as well.) But whether I’m trying to hit soccer balls that are being thrown at my head, or skiing down a slope weaving in and out of flags, I just don’t have control of my balance the way I thought I did. This was especially evident one day when I got a little carried away during a ski jump, and actually put a dent in my basement ceiling with my head. I think I probably also put a dent in my head from the basement ceiling, but that isn’t as noticeable.


2. My weight can fluctuate by as much as ten pounds a day. Well, this isn’t really true, but for a while it appeared as if the Wii was having difficulty giving me an accurate weight count. As I mentioned, on the first day I took the Body Test, I landed in the “good weight range” category. But when I took the same Body Test the following day, I had gained eight pounds, and the Wii told me I was now overweight. In fact, a little disapproving voice even tells you “You’re overweight!” (Just like your Mother used to…or was that just me?!!!) Then two days later when I took the test again, I’d lost three pounds, then I gained ten, then lost four. Apparently, if you use the Wii Fit board on carpeting, you need to add the extensions to get an accurate count. Once I did that, my weight returned to normal…but for a while there, I was getting a little concerned about my metabolism.


3. The Wii image you create for yourself (called a Mii) actually goes up and down in weight when you do. So during my aforementioned bout with the daily Body Tests, my Mii image fluctuated between an Ed Norton and a Ralph Kramden.


4. I’m very competitive. And because you get a score at the end of each exercise, it motivates you to constantly do better.


5. Did I mention I’m very competitive? This became increasingly evident when I had some friends over to play, and some of them beat my existing scores on a few of the games. And though I tried to suppress it at the time, I have not stopped trying to beat some of those higher scores during my daily routine.


6. I don’t like machines asking me questions. Especially when they can’t really respond to my answer. But one of the “highlights” of your daily training session is to be bombarded with questions about your eating and exercising habits. For instance, if you skip a day of exercise, one of the first things the Wii says to you is: “Too busy to work out yesterday, eh?” (Bee-yatch!!!!) Or if you happened to gain a few pounds, the Wii makes you select a reason for the weight gain. And if you choose “Don’t know,” it harasses you for the next few days until you finally admit you like to eat late night snacks. (Double Bee-yatch!)


7. Just when you think you know a routine, the Wii throws in a curveball. For example, one of the exercises is called an Island run, which is basically a “running in place” type of workout whereby you follow another Mii on the television screen as they run around a beautifully animated island. You don’t use the balance board for this exercise, but you do have to keep the Wii remote either in your pocket or your hand so the computer can accurately measure your performance. But what’s really cool is that you don’t always go to the same place each time. Sometimes the Mii takes you one way and another day it might take you another. You also aren’t always following the same person each time, so it’s like you have a whole new group of friends to hang out with. (They don’t really talk to you, but they certainly smile and wave a lot.)


8. The Wii games are populated with many, many people. In fact, many of the games have you actually performing in front of people, or working out alongside groups of other athletes. And when you win, everyone cheers you on. If only that would happen more often in real life.


9. I don’t confuse the Wii with Oui (the hardcore magazine) any more.


10. Exercising is fun. Again.

But that’s just me. What kinds of things have you learned from your Wii?

An Animated Essay on a Titillating Tag

For those of you who’ve read my blog in the past, you might remember that I am a huge fan of animated films. (With a special concentration on the Disney brand.) So when Matthew Urdan of Meltwater Torrents Meanderings Delta sent me a tag asking me to list my favorite animated films of all time, I was rather intrigued. Not intrigued enough to actually respond to the tag, mind you, but intrigued enough to write a blog entry about why I feel this tag is a particularly hard one for me. (Sorry, Matt, I know this wasn’t what you were expecting, but perhaps you’ll understand after I start pontificating.)

The truth is I love all animated films, even the earliest Betty Boop and Popeye cartoons. I appreciate all the time and energy that goes into pulling off such an amazingly labor-intensive achievement. And I marvel at all the creativity and imagination used to bring the story and characters to life. So to answer a question about my top ten favorite cartoons of all time is not only unfair, but also downright sadistic. What if I pick the wrong ten? What if, while assembling my list, I completely forget about one of my all time favorites? Say, Snow White, for instance. Then later, Snow finds out about my oversight and decides not to be friends with me anymore. And even worse, she forbids me from ever playing leapfrog with the Dwarves again, which as you all know is a favorite pastime of mine. Or what if Monsters, Inc. goes bankrupt because I did not include them on my list, and therefore they don’t have the full emotional support they need to survive? I even hesitate to think what Bambi’s mother might say if I don’t include her son as one of my favorites. It would just kill her!

But wait. That is not even the extent of Matt’s tumultuous tag…no, my dear readers, it gets much worse. For not only did he command me to list my top ten favorite animated films, but he also forced me to choose a character in each film that most resembles me. Horrors! Can you imagine the inner turmoil I’d be suffering while trying to work all that out? Not to mention the angst I’d endure wondering if anyone was making value judgments about me based on what characters I happen to identify with.

Or what if I couldn’t find a character, so I chose one at random, and then was stuck with that moniker for the rest of my life? (“Oh, he chose Ratatouille, so he must be a real rat.” Or “Do you think he chose Pinocchio because he’s a liar, or because he has appendages that grow to unusual sizes?”) And what if I identified with various aspects of a certain character, but not the whole person? Like, I had the independence of Belle, the vanity of Gaston, and the misunderstood personality of the Beast? Would people consider me schizophrenic?

No, I’m afraid this tag is much too difficult for someone as devoted an animated connoisseur as myself. I simply cannot compare one film to another. How can you compare the brilliance of the Evil Queen’s transfiguration into the Old Hag in the original full-length animated feature “Snow White,” with the technical wizardry of something like “The Incredibles” or “Toy Story.” You can’t. They are completely different animals. And yet I love and appreciate them both. As well as everything that came in between.

Well, with maybe one exception. “The Black Cauldron” was a definite low point in Disney animation, and temporarily turned me off to the genre for a period of time. Plus, I was in high school and animation was just not cool any more. Except maybe Saturday morning cartoons, which somehow passed as quality entertainment amongst the cool crowd. But once “The Little Mermaid” came along in the 90s, I was not only hooked again, but an even bigger fan than I was as a child.

To this day, I make my annual sojourn to the “homeland” every year (Disney World) and have my office completely covered in animated statues, posters, and figurines. It allows me to work in an environment that is happy and colorful and just a little bit “off.” Would it work for everyone? No. But for me, someone who grew up constantly escaping into the world of his imagination, my office is a colorful little retreat from the often-grey colors of the real world.

Plus, I wouldn’t want to cause any animosity among the figurines if I should choose a movie that represents some but not others. (The Queen of Hearts and Captain Hook statues can be particularly nasty when they want to be.) All I’d need is for a few of them to get a little jealous, start a feud, and the next thing you know I’m cleaning up huge piles of porcelain and resin off the floor. So to avoid that, I’m going to remain neutral like Switzerland on the topic.

But that’s just me. What are your top ten favorite animated films of all time, and what character would you identify with in each? (Go ahead, you try it….!!!!)

Creative Quips on Qualifying Quirky Qualities

I have once again been tagged by Roxy of Roxiticus Desperate Housewives to carry out one of her humiliating tasks of self-evaluation and public exposure. I don’t know why she feels it necessary to unload her particular requests upon me, but for some reason I feel the need to comply. After all, the latest “homework assignment” involved publicly revealing my special quirks or idiosyncrasies, as if I had any of those to begin with. To me, this was a big assumption on Roxy’s part, because I personally view all of my personality traits as normal extensions of my being. And should some of my habits happen to be a little different than the average person, I certainly wouldn’t call it a quirk. I think of these individual attributes as “qualities” rather than quirks, but perhaps that’s because I’m just more advanced than some people. (i.e., a certain Desperate Housewife.)

Nevertheless, I will try to assemble what I consider to be some of my most interesting “qualities,” several of which may have been referred to at one time or another as a “quirk.” Certainly not by me, of course, but by other people. After all, aren’t your quirks really pointed out by someone other than yourself? Because without their input, you might think everything you’re doing is perfectly normal. Unless one of your quirks happens to involve strange rituals with pig blood and dead chickens, in which case you might actually be displaying cult behavior rather than a quirk. But I digress.

Another interesting assumption of Roxy’s request was the requirement of listing six different quirks. As if everyone had six basic quirks they could easily assemble at any given moment. Like having six senses, your six quirks were as obvious as your eye or hair color. (The proverbial sixth sense being your ability to see dead people, like Bruce Willis’s career.) But what if you had seven quirks, or a hundred and eight? Or what if, God forbid, you only had two? And you had to make up the rest just so you wouldn’t be embarrassed. Or even worse, what if one of your “quirks” was the fear of actually having to talk about your various quirks? What then, Miss Roxy, what then?

So now that I’ve successfully drawn out my sarcastic introduction to a fourth paragraph, I think it’s time to tackle the issue at hand: the public pronouncement of my most interesting “qualities.” And here they are:

One of the major “qualities” that distinguishes me from the masses is my obsession with anything animated. Disney animated movies are my favorite, but I also like classic Saturday morning cartoons like Scooby Doo and Bugs Bunny, as well as the more artsy Japanese animation from Hayao Miyazaki. I believe that in a former life (if there is such a thing), I probably started out as an animated character. Perhaps a pencil drawing or a sketch on a napkin. (You may even have seen me as a forest animal in “Snow White” or as one of the puppets in “Pinocchio.”) Animation is magical to me. I am literally drawn to the colors, the characters, the stories and the overall feeling that “everything will be all right in the end.” If this is a quirk, I gladly accept it with all the candy-coated optimism such an attribute implies. After all, without optimism we have nothing.

A second quality of mine is that animals love me. I’ve been told by many pet owners that their dog or cat is usually hesitant or fearful around most people, but feel immediately at ease around me. I’m not sure if it’s because I smell like a butcher shop or I remind them of a fire hydrant they once peed on, but I definitely have a kinship with our four legged friends. And I don’t mean in a Horse Whisperer sort of way; more like an understanding of what it’s like to be the underdog. (Literally) My black cat, Trey, who appears in the Cat Clips videos, sleeps by my head every night as if there to protect me.

I’m addicted to chocolate chip cookies and peanut butter. (Not at the same time. Although I have tried mixing them in the past, and rather liked the results. Though my waste and teeth do not.)

I don’t drink coffee unless it has some kind of flavored creamer in it. And I don’t mean the powdered kind, which never really provides the fatty creaminess one requires in their cup of coffee. (For more on my coffee requirements, please refer to My Quest for the Perfect Cup of Coffee)

I sleep in the nude. This isn’t really a quirk. More of an advertisement.

I love the glamour and mystique of Old time Hollywood. From the silent comedies of Charlie Chaplin and Harold Lloyd, to the Film Noir classics of the thirties and forties, to the big MGM musicals of the fifties and sixties, I’m a classic film buff. (I also like movies produced after the sixties, but there is something very special about the older films that I truly appreciate. ) Hitchcock is one of my personal favorites.

And finally, and probably most significantly, my constant need to “create” is one of the driving forces in my life. It doesn’t really matter what form it takes (playwriting, drawing, singing, blog writing, making movies, etc.), as long as it gives me the opportunity to express myself. That is what gives me the most pleasure, and is probably my biggest quirk. Though I think of it as more of a gift. And if others happen to like what I create, that’s just icing on the cake.

But that’s just me. What are your six “qualities” that people might consider quirky?

Mouth Organ Karaoke--MAMMA MIA!

To help celebrate the upcoming new movie "Mamma Mia!," The Rubber Duck Players have come up with their own interpretation of ABBA's classic song. So please click on the photo above to watch this short one-minute movie from the popular Mouth Organ Karaoke series.

Henson's Hell Wins An Award!

Henson’s Hell has won an award. And I didn’t even know such things were possible. But Jon from The Ups, Downs and Sometimes Insane World of Freelance Writing has given me the esteemed “Arte y Pico Award.” It is part of a tag initiative from the “Arte y Pico Blog,” where you pass along the compliment to other bloggers.

I am truly honored by this award, and have so many little people to thank for helping me achieve such recognition. Yes, it has been a long struggle to win this achievement, and yes, I had to compromise every moral and value I held sacred just to scratch and claw my way to the winner's circle. But now I am here, and I have no one to thank but myself. And all the millions of pixels that help form my blog every day. (Forgive me for this little sarcastic interlude, but I just couldn't help myself.)

Now on to the important stuff. To follow are the rules and then my own personal selection of five deserving winners:

1) You have to pick 5 blogs that you consider deserve this award for their creativity, design, interesting material, and also for contributing to the blogging community, no matter what language

2) Each award has to have the name of the author and also a link to his or her blog to be visited by everyone.

3) Each award winner has to show the award and put the name and link to the blog that has given her or him the award itself.

4) Award-winner and the one who has given the prize have to show the link of "Arte y Pico" blog, so everyone will know the origin of this award. http://arteypico.blogspot.com/.

And though I wish I could tag everyone with this special honor, I can only choose five. And here they are:

Meltwater. Torrents. Meanderings. Delta.

Roxiticus Desperate Housewives

Magic and Moments at Dragonfly Cottage

Daisy the Curly Cat

The Roller Blog

Please visit all the great blogs above, and see why they are at the top of their game.

Cat Clips--Litter Etiquette

Please click on the photo above to watch a short one-minute video from the "Cat Clips" series entitled "Litter Etiquette." In this episode, our two cats discuss the finer points of proper cat box policies.

When Memory Manifestation Leads to Physical Ramifications

Did you ever have a sense memory that was so strong it could illicit a physical response from you just by thinking about it? For instance, when you hear the sound of a lawn mower, or the smell of freshly cut grass, does it suddenly harken you back to your youth when perhaps you were responsible for that family chore? Or does the smell of cinnamon cause your mouth to immediately start salivating? Perhaps a song comes on the radio that takes you back to a favorite time in your life, or a sad memory of someone no longer with us?

Actors are taught to become aware of these types of sensations so they can use them in their creative process. The more an actor can associate with a specific emotional response, the more credible their performance. That’s why some actors can cry at the drop of a hat—they’ve trained themselves to recall a specific memory in their lives that will always help them get that kind of reaction.

I have a very strong sense memory from my days playing a clarinet in band that still gives me the same kind of sensation today as when I originally experienced it. In fact, sometimes the sensation is even stronger than the original incident that inspired it. I’m speaking of the feeling you get if you’ve ever tried to play a clarinet with a dry reed. Not only does the instrument produce a loud high pitched shriek, but you also experience a physical reaction similar to what you might feel when someone drags their nails across a blackboard. Both the sound and the action combined are what set off your physical response. For me, my neck and shoulders scrunch up, and my face stretches out in a very pained expression as if I’d just bitten into a sour lemon. I also get some kind of tingly sensation which ripples down my back, as if my muscles were being individually repulsed by the experience.

(Side note: As I was trying to find the words to describe my physical reaction for you, I actually had to keep recalling the sense memory over and over again like some kind of masochist. And to be honest, right now my back and mouth are physically exhausted from the efforts---that’s how strong my sense memory of this silly little event is. I can physically make myself uncomfortable just by recalling it.)

And though not recommended, this type of skill might be useful if you ever wanted to get out of a social obligation or avoid a specific type of chore. All you have to do is try and recall how it felt to be so physically sick you couldn’t even get out of bed, and you’ll be surprised how your body will react to that kind of committed recollection. The more you concentrate and try to remember, the worse you’re going to feel, giving you an outward physical manifestation of your internal memory. The problem is, sense memory can sometimes be so strong and your abilities so effective, that you actually might start to trick yourself into believing you’re actually sick. In which case, I would counteract those feelings with sense memories of how good you felt once you recovered.

Anyway, I find it interesting that my body can retain a physical response from something that happened to me over thirty years ago, and repeat it verbatim any time I happen to recall the event. But then again, I have friends who will actually start to vomit just by mentioning the word “vomit,” so I guess I’m lucky my sense memory doesn’t include a weak stomach as well.

But that’s just me. Do you have a strong sense memory that gives you a physical reaction any time you think of it?