At The Great Escape yesterday, we hit the sweet spot: a stretch of the day you could get on The Comet over and over again without standing on line. I can’t tell you how many times we went on the giant roller coaster —12 times? 15 times? Either way, my neck is really sore today. On the wet side of the park, we spent more than 30 minutes waiting to go on the “Mega Wedgie” water slide. You drop down a chute in a raft and then spin around and around in a big cylinder before before being sucked out the bottom. It should be called the Mega Bowl or Royal Flush, because the sensation is just like being in a toilet. If they were smart, they’d embrace this concept and run with the bathroom joke. Brown rafts maybe?
We also rode The Boomerang a couple of times, but as much as I enjoy roller coasters, it’s is a harrowing experience. That ride should be called The Colonoscopy —but I digress.
Just to top off a post that’s going downhill fast, I found it interesting that all the people operating the rides at the park were foreign workers here for the summer. We I know this is immature, but we got a big kick out out of the guy at The Alpine Sled: UFUK. That seemed funny, but this was after riding The Comet for an hour.Is it possible that repeated roller coaster trips reduce your intellect? If so, let’s hope it’s only temporary.
The local youth softball outfit is called the Bethlehem Tomboys. This bothers me but I can’t quite articulate why.
It could bother her because it’s an interesting example of how society’s always been conflicted over the place where femininity meets athleticism. They came up with the name Tomboys when it was OK to suggest that a girl playing softball was boyish. Today? Not so much. You’d never get away with naming them that in 2008, not in these days when teams like the Warriors and Indians are getting hard to find. This was not a problem where I grew up. We were -and remain- the Carle Place Frogs.
For all the damage the ad world has done in terms of how we view women and the way they view themselves, Nike deserves credit for breaking stereotypes. Their advertising is full of strong women who are anything but “tomboys.” My favorite example is this 2006 spot that features Maria Sharapova on her way to play at the U.S. Open. It’s not just an ad, but a biting piece of satire —and maybe the best use of music in any commercial ever. Plus the casting and directing is brilliant. Here’s a link to a clean version if you can’t stand the crummy YouTube embed…
I had a couple of bucks, so I asked the clerk at Stewart’s for a scratch off. Which one? I don’t know, pick me any of one of those two dollars tickets. Back in the car I grab a nickel and start scratching my way to victory. That’s when I realized I was in trouble.
Scratch the YOUR LETTERS area to reveal 18 letters within the box. Scratch each letter in the Cashword puzzle that corresponds to YOUR LETTERS.
HONK! The light was green and the guy behind me wanted to go. At the next light I continued reading.
Complete three or more words in the Cashword puzzle using YOUR LETTERS to win the prize shown in the Prize Legend. See back for details.
Details? HONK! The light was green again. I drove off thinking, WTF? They gave me the scratch off game for Mensa members. Actually, that can’t be: Mensans are bright enough not to waste their money on these things. I pulled over and started revealing my 18 letters. Then I started scratching off each letter in the Cashword box that corresponded to MY LETTERS. Ten minutes later I abandoned the project.
It took me a week to finally get everything scratched off. I’m affraid I might have voided the game, but if not I’m pretty sure I’ve either won $2 or $10,000.
By the way: If those Mensans are so smart , why do they have such an awful web site?
Some things are best sent to the recycle bin, like the review of my 12-year-old’s school theater production of “Beauty and The Beast.” I thought it would be really, really funny to write about the show as if reviewed by New York Times theater critic Ben Brantley:
Two act one numbers that should have been rousing show stoppers fell flat, casualties of weak singing and thoughtless direction. “Gaston,” the wildly funny paean to Belle’s vain and thickly dumb suitor, leaves many of its best jokes to wither and die on the vine, the victims of poor timing. “Be Our Guest,” a wry and spirited homage to Maurice Chevalier, is similarly disappointing, with many of its lyrics rendered unintelligible. It leaned on a series of costume reveals to wow the audience while ignoring the wit and charm its words. Even Shannon McShane, in her strong turn as Mrs. Potts, couldn’t save the doomed number.
And it went on like this for for six-hundred words. I showed it to Ann. “You know,” she said, “Not everyone gets your sense of humor.” C’mon, I explained. It’s parody. It’s not supposed to be ME writing, It’s as if it’s as if Ben Brantley came to the gymatorium and reviewed a kids theater production. Get it? It’s funny. She stared like I’d grown a third eye on my forehead. “Oh. Maybe Ben Brantley will go to the next PTO meeting.”
Point made —and all but what you see here was deleted. The show closed Saturday night, but I had nothing to do with it.
Billy Collins served two terms as Poet Laureate of the United States and was the New York State Poet for 2004. His poem “The Lanyard” sums up Mother’s Day better than I could in a million years. Watch him recite it here or read it yourself below. (more…)
Madeo runs in the 7th race Wednesday at Hollywood Park with Mike Smith taking the mount. You may recall Smith from a little race called the Kentucky Derby, where in 2005 he took 50-1 long shot Giacomo to the winner’s circle. Or his Preakness victory in 1993. Or those ten Breeder’s Cup wins. Oh, by the way: Smith is slated to ride Arkansas Derby winner Gayego in the big one Saturday at Churchill Downs.
I’ve said before that betting on names is for suckers, but how can you say no to this one? Marjorie Madeo, my French Facebook friend, tells me that the word madeo means cool in the Breton language, which is spoken in parts of Brittany. That settles it, wouldn’t you say?
Approximate post time 7:25 on the east coast, so hit OTB on the way home.
I write a lot of copy every week. Mostly it’s not worth $65,000 per word, but I was especially proud of this sentence: A NEW HOME FOR DOGS LIVING LIKE PIGS IN THE FILTHY HOUSE OF A NEGLECTFUL BREEDER. If dogs are living like pigs, you know things are really bad.
Now this from the amusing typo file: WHEN NEW YORK STATE BUILT THE THRUWAY, THEY PROMISED TO ELIMINATE TROLLS SOME DAY. That’s very good since there are so many bridges on the Thruway.
Here’s an especially absurd idea: SOME PEOPLE SAY THAT YOUR CAR MAKES A STATEMENT; COMING UP, THE STORY OF A CAR THAT DOESN’T JUST MAKE A STATEMENT, IT SHOUTS OUT A MESSAGE OF PEACE AND TOLERANCE. I wonder if that’s covered under the warranty?
Next, there’s something wrong here but I’m not sure what: HANSON-MANIA STRIKES THE CAPITAL REGION —AND WE FELT QUITE A SURGE OF IT RIGHT HERE AT CHANNEL 13 TODAY! OK, that’s what’s wrong: saying surge, mania, and Hanson in the same five seconds .
Finally, my favorite literary technique, good news/bad news: NICE WEATHER —BUT DANGEROUSLY DRY. LIVE AT ELEVEN.
We’re in the wrong business. Statmats, a company that specializes in marketing and advertising for higher education got paid $260,000 to pen this slogan for UAlbany: The World Within Reach. A UAlbany student wrote to the newspaper complaining that this prices out at $65,000 a word. He must be a math major.
I’ve come up with a slogan or two in my time. In fact, if you live near Albany you might recognize them. I was not paid $65,000 per word, but using that as a benchmark, my most lucrative single job (eight words) would have netted me $520,000. One of the words in that one was “there’s.” Believe me, if I were being paid by the word, I would never have used a contraction in that slogan. It would have been “there is” and I would have pocketed an extra sixty-five large. Ha.
It may sound like I’m being absurd to make a point, but I’m not. Some of the things I wrote were worth $65,000 per word if not many times more. Seriously. Think about it: how much do you think “Just Do It” was worth per word? Or “Mmm…Mmm…Good?” Mmm isn’t even a word, but its value to Campbell Soup is easily in the nine figure range.
If this UAlbany thing ends up another hollow phrase that means nothing, as many slogans do, then they’ve thrown the money away. If they embrace it and makes it part of their being -if they live it and breathe it and believe it- then they’ve made a great investment.
The Pope I don’t get why the Pope’s going to Yankee Stadium. I always thought he was a Cardinal fan. Har har har.
Turf and Dirt Our horse Madeo worked at five furlongs this week. We’re keeping an eye out for a start so you can get down to OTB and put your money where my mouth is. Based his two outings, expect short odds.
Naming Rights Go help Stewart’s name their latest batch of new ice cream flavors. I suggested Client-9 for the “lemon flavored light ice cream with a whipped cream swirl.” I figure that when life gives you lemons, make lemon ice cream. As for the whipped cream…
On Language The only place where people mull any more is in newspaper headlines.
“With all due respect” is the twenty-first century’s F-bomb. In the old days, when someone said with all due respect, it meant, “Yes, I hear you. Thank you for sharing your opinion. I appreciate the input, but I must respectfully disagree.” Today, it means, “Shut your big yap, because it’s my turn to talk.” Or, “With all due respect, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Maybe even, “With all due respect, I wish you would drop dead.”
As far as I can tell, in 2008 no respect is due any more, and if someone with all due respects you, they are doing it with supreme irony and contempt. It’s a declaration of war. And with all due respect, I suggest you treat it as such.
