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Archive for October, 2010

Man Purse Pics

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The Man Purse

The man purse has been around for years, but has yet to win many fans in the good, ole U.S. of A. Sunglasses, cell phones,keys – American men are accustomed to handing their belongings over to American women for transport.    

Why?                                                                                                                                                                                                                

Men in France, fully secure in their masculinity, carry purses. From sporty canvas bags to dainty leather pouches: all styles are well represented. Which raises some interesting questions: Should American men continue to treat their female companions as pack mules? Or should they drop their prejudices and adopt the Man Purse?

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“The strangest people go to church, rich and poor, dumb and bright.”   

Jack Dunphy, playwright and longtime companion of Truman Capote

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Why Travel?

“The use of traveling is to regulate imagination by reality, and instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are.”             Samuel Johnson

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Gidget Has Osteoporosis

The unthinkable has finally happened. Gidget is old. Sally Field, who embodies the spirit of Gidget, is shilling for a drug that treats osteoporosis. That’s right. She’s not the spokesperson for Tab, Yardley or Sun-In. No, Gidget has brittle bones, the granny disease. Cruel fate for the actress who once played a nun who can fly. Okay, maybe the flying nun’s hint of a romance with Ricardo Montalban has come back to haunt her. Was that friendship strictly platonic? Note to self: Research the Bible for connections between religious figures who fly, pseudo-romances and bone disease.

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From Kook to Activist?

The Cardiff Kook is attempting to reinvent himself. Born in an artist’s studio, he spent his early years enduring ridicule and abuse by local surfers. Tired of being criticized for his surfing style, his family history and even his sexual preference, the Cardiff Kook is now on a quest for legitimacy and acceptance in his community. He has been an object of scorn and bullying for years. Periodically, mysterious strangers, under cover of darkness, have adorned his body with skirts, bikinis and even a giant replica of a shark devouring him in one big gulp. This week, to draw attention to Breast Cancer, the Kook has allowed himself to be dressed in a pink tutu, with pink leis draped around his neck. He holds a sign, reminding his neighbors that the fight to find a cure is a cause close to his heart. From Kook to Activist. Like Madonna, Pee Wee Herman and Danny Bonaducci, the Cardiff Kook will rally his peeps and lead the way…to…well, does it really matter? He is, after all, a kook.

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Doonesbury’s Demise

If I needed proof of the approaching irrelevance of the Boomers, I was slapped in the face with hard evidence today. Doonesbury is back in the comics section of the Sunday paper. For those unfamiliar with the concept, a newspaper is something that used to be delivered to your doorstep in the wee hours of the morning. The paperboy would wave at the milkman, who also travelled in the wee hours of the morning, delivering milk to your doorstep. (at my house, Ed would walk right into the house, calling out, “Milkman!” open the fridge, shove aside last night’s leftover pot roast and put the milk away. And yes, there are so many astonishing things about that last sentence, that you probably think I’m lying) Anyway, back to Doonesbury. People used to love or hate Doonesbury. Some years ago, there was so much controversy over Doonesbury’s political satire, that it was relegated to the opinion section. When Doonesbury moved out of the comics section, the lovers and haters were placated and peace in the newsroom was restored. Fast forward a few years and Doonesbury is back in the comics section, with nary a peep from the readers. Not only are there too few readers to warrant a controversy, Doonesbury’s edgy humor is no longer quite so edgy. Ask your kids if they know who Doonesbury is.  I dare you!

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I was buying a new toothbrush the other day and I got to thinking about how gender is so intrinsically woven into the way we think. See, the toothbrush bristle strength that I prefer is firm. Not soft, not medium. Firm. (the fact that I even have that choice is a topic for another day) After standing in front of the toothbrushes at Albertson’s for a ridiculously long time, I finally found a lavender, medium-bristle toothbrush.Apparently firm-bristle toothbrush users prefer bold colors, like royal blue and fire-engine red. So what? Well, I share a toothbrush holder with a man. In order to differentiate between our toothbrushes, I try to find a girl color. Since my husband buys his own toothbrushes, I can say, with confidence that his toothbrush will never be pink or lavender. Because those are girl colors, right? (why it is important that we don’t accidentally use one another’s toothbrushes is a topic for another day)  Believe it or not, amongst the THOUSAND toothbrushes on the rack, not one firm-bristle pink or lavender. Alas, (or woe, as the prophet Isaiah would have expressed it) I bought a medium-bristle, lavender toothbrush. I hate that color.

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Just watched Oprah’s interview of J.K. Rowling (Jo, as she is known to Oprah, her new best friend-sorry, Gail) Great interview. Rowling has a way with words. Guess that explains that little thing called Harry Potter. Loved her observations about failure. Rock bottom is a solid base upon which to build. Liberating. Nothing to lose. Couldn’t help smiling at Oprah’s questions about Rowling’s wealth. What does it feel like to know you will always be rich? There followed a short discussion between two women who are in a position to ponder that question. Instead of tuning out, I (metaphorically) turned up my hearing aids to catch every pearl of their combined wisdom. Ah, the genius of Oprah! Who else can ask that question without alienating her core audience of walmart women, like me?

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