5 years ago
My Aspirational Group
Saturday, September 27, 2008
A Regular Guy Passes Away
He's going to be absolutely, positively lionized for the next few weeks, and rightfully so. But I still want to write about Paul Newman. I liked Paul Newman. I respected Paul Newman. He was an honest-to-God hero, although he'd deny it and hate it if someone said it about him. What really saddens me is that his death is just another piece of a past world that has gone and probably won't be back.
I'm not a head-in-the-sand person that thinks the world is going to hell in a handbasket, that things were 100% better when I was younger. But I don't think humanity is on a steady upward climb either. We go up and down in intelligence, decency, and kindness. And what we want or expect out of people in the limelight is one of the things that has gone down in recent decades. There have always been a celebrities of all types (artistic, political, miscellaneous) that have been peckerheads. This is not a modern occurrence. But the self-congratulatory aspect of celebrity has been magnified by increased media scrutiny. People who wouldn't have fallen prey to ego-driven conceit and selfishness fifty years ago can justify that type of negative change in their personality and self in the modern world. It's hard to keep perspective when someone is putting your face and/or voice on the airwaves, and other people respond to it. A lot of people start to think that means they're better than they are. I probably would do the same thing.
Paul Newman never did. This is a man who, without patting himself on the back too much, donated over $200 million to charity, set up camps all of the country for severely ill children, and championed civil rights a long time before it was cool (or, in Hollywood, popular or smart) to do so. But he didn't do those things for any other reason than to simply do them. His activism never intruded on his career or was part of his celebrity. You didn't hear about Paul Newman giving a quarter of a million dollars for refugees in Kosovo, or that his camps for camps for seriously ill children had expanded onto other countries and continents, or that he gave $10 million to his alma mater for a scholarship fund. You didn't hear about it because he didn't tell people and didn't advertise his philanthropy. He just did good things.
Paul Newman was a guy--but, somehow, he remained a regular guy. How he did this is beyond me. He was handsome when he was 20...and 30...and 40...and pretty much every decade after that. He drove race cars and was really good at it; he was a winning member of the 24 hours of Daytona when he was 70, and was still racing (and doing well) at 80. I have a good friend who is very involved in auto racing; he does film work for the Speed channel. "Oh, yeah," he told me once. "I've seen Paul Newman. Seen him lots of times." He paused. "He's a regular guy." Another pause. "His racing team always has great food." He made a hockey movie--the hockey movie--in Slap Shot. When he turned 70, he commented that drinking beer before noon was tougher. He served in the Navy World War II; he was as a tail gunner in the Pacific. He'd show up occasionally on Letterman and make Dave giggle. He married a famous actress and, like a lot of people--but unlike a lot of celebrities--it took. Joanne Woodward and Paul Newman celebrated their 50th anniversary earlier this year. That makes me happy.
A regular guy. Like I said, we live in a world where celebrities are almost universally convinced they are better and more important than they really are. Paul Newman didn't think he was better than he anyone else. But the truth is, he was. He did so much to help people all over the world; literally hundreds of thousands of adults and children owe him for his generosity, for his efforts to do good, for his decency. Paul Newman was a great actor--nine Academy Award nominations, one win, a slew of characters that have become cinematic and cultural icons. He was an even better human being. He'll be missed.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
I did not go to college at all, having not finished high school, due to I killed a man.
I know it's the New Yorker so it's hardly underground, but my friend Jason gave this to me yesterday and I laughed until I almost peed myself. Which would have been a disaster right before my 2:00 Tech Writing class.
Keep in mind this is was written well before Sarah Palin's latest interview with Katie Couric. I'm almost tempted to say that all of us would come across like that if we were transcribed while, you know, actually talking. But no. Sarah Palin is actually that vapid.
Keep in mind this is was written well before Sarah Palin's latest interview with Katie Couric. I'm almost tempted to say that all of us would come across like that if we were transcribed while, you know, actually talking. But no. Sarah Palin is actually that vapid.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Strong Bad Teaches English Skills, Diorama Technique
As a college English professor , I approve this message.
Middle school readers and parents will want to get diorama advice of this sort.
Middle school readers and parents will want to get diorama advice of this sort.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Snippets From the Time Travel Postcards Sent From 2008 Me to my Earlier Self
To 1976 J.P.
I‘m not blind, so don’t worry. Mom is lying.
To 1979 J.P.
Just take a deep breath before you drink the shot, and spray it out when you light the match. And don’t wear the velour shirt. Ever.
To 1982 J.P.
Not her.
To 1985 J.P.
Even though the alley on Broadway is dark and you really need to pee, don’t. You’re gonna get arrested and have to hear the judge call you up for “urinating in public.” Way embarrassing, even for you.
To 1988 J.P.
Go back to school. Go directly back to school. Do not pass GO, do not collect $200.
To 1990 J.P.
Buy the Mazda. It'll last and, Christ, everyone has Toyotas and Hondas.
To 1991 J.P.
Not her either.
To 1993 J.P.
Molly will go away soon, and you won’t see her anymore. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true. Appreciate these times.
To 1995 J.P.
Your friend J.D. is right. Definitely not her.
To 1996 J.P.
Ignore the naysayers. Elvis is a terrific name for the cat.
To 1998 J.P.
Dissertations directors may not know as much as you--or they--think. Ask around and get other opinions. And drink more Newcastle…you’ll thank me later.
To 2001 J.P.
The western part of Kansas by Colby is a fucking speed trap now. I’m just saying.
To 2004 J.P.
Yes, the gown looks cool right now. But you’ll only wear it at convocation and graduation from now on, and it’s itchy and hot. Get the tam instead of the mortarboard; you’ll look like less of a dork.
To 2005 J.P.
The cat is going to claw the couch to bits, so don’t overpay.
To 2006 J.P.
The garden only seems like a good idea because you don't know anything about gardening. Remember the Great Retiling Incident of 1988?
I‘m not blind, so don’t worry. Mom is lying.
To 1979 J.P.
Just take a deep breath before you drink the shot, and spray it out when you light the match. And don’t wear the velour shirt. Ever.
To 1982 J.P.
Not her.
To 1985 J.P.
Even though the alley on Broadway is dark and you really need to pee, don’t. You’re gonna get arrested and have to hear the judge call you up for “urinating in public.” Way embarrassing, even for you.
To 1988 J.P.
Go back to school. Go directly back to school. Do not pass GO, do not collect $200.
To 1990 J.P.
Buy the Mazda. It'll last and, Christ, everyone has Toyotas and Hondas.
To 1991 J.P.
Not her either.
To 1993 J.P.
Molly will go away soon, and you won’t see her anymore. I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true. Appreciate these times.
To 1995 J.P.
Your friend J.D. is right. Definitely not her.
To 1996 J.P.
Ignore the naysayers. Elvis is a terrific name for the cat.
To 1998 J.P.
Dissertations directors may not know as much as you--or they--think. Ask around and get other opinions. And drink more Newcastle…you’ll thank me later.
To 2001 J.P.
The western part of Kansas by Colby is a fucking speed trap now. I’m just saying.
To 2004 J.P.
Yes, the gown looks cool right now. But you’ll only wear it at convocation and graduation from now on, and it’s itchy and hot. Get the tam instead of the mortarboard; you’ll look like less of a dork.
To 2005 J.P.
The cat is going to claw the couch to bits, so don’t overpay.
To 2006 J.P.
The garden only seems like a good idea because you don't know anything about gardening. Remember the Great Retiling Incident of 1988?
Friday, September 12, 2008
Go Ben Go!
Ben Folds rocks. ETix, however, sucks. I tried desperately and, of course, hopelessly to get a ticket to the Ben Folds Five reunion show. Saw them many, many times; am going to see Ben with his new band next month. But I would have paid the bux for this. Sadly, not the bux the scalpers on ebay want.
p.s. Love the Front to Back thing! Hearing one of your favorite discs played beginning to end...nice.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
TV Show Reviews (from titles without actually watching them)
"Do Not Disturb." Am I missing something? It’s a too too clever title, but it’s not going to play well with the Unwashed Masses, who will only choose this show over potential stablemate, “Don't Watch This Channel.”
"Supernanny." Getting fed up with the habit of adding the prefix “Super-“ to unnecessary nouns (likewise with the suffixes “-gate” and “-ology”). She’s a nanny, for God’s sake. Superdrugstoreclerk woudn’t get my attention etiher.
"America’s Toughest Jobs." They didn’t contact me. I know the show much be full of shit.
"Dirty Sexy Money." So, what…attractive people cleaning bills and coins? Is this some sort of reality show? Maybe it’s a spin-off from “America’s Toughest Jobs.”
"Numb3rs." Okay, here’s the deal. No more of this “numbers for letters” crap unless you’re Prince. He gets a free pass. "Nothing Compares 2 U" is still a great song.
"The Biggest Loser: Families." I know…it’s about weight loss. I’m sure it’s heartwarming. So why cross them up with the show’s name? I mean, do we crown an attractive beauty pageant candidate “Miss Armpit Stain”? Truth in advertising, that’s all I’m saying.
"My Own Worst Enemy." A bit too autobiographical. One word: Tequila.
"The Unit." Biography of a well-endowed man? Gotta be better than the 7000th show about some sort of military group. I bet this is a more serious A-Team…but if it was about John Holmes, it would be more entertaining.
"Supernanny." Getting fed up with the habit of adding the prefix “Super-“ to unnecessary nouns (likewise with the suffixes “-gate” and “-ology”). She’s a nanny, for God’s sake. Superdrugstoreclerk woudn’t get my attention etiher.
"America’s Toughest Jobs." They didn’t contact me. I know the show much be full of shit.
"Dirty Sexy Money." So, what…attractive people cleaning bills and coins? Is this some sort of reality show? Maybe it’s a spin-off from “America’s Toughest Jobs.”
"Numb3rs." Okay, here’s the deal. No more of this “numbers for letters” crap unless you’re Prince. He gets a free pass. "Nothing Compares 2 U" is still a great song.
"The Biggest Loser: Families." I know…it’s about weight loss. I’m sure it’s heartwarming. So why cross them up with the show’s name? I mean, do we crown an attractive beauty pageant candidate “Miss Armpit Stain”? Truth in advertising, that’s all I’m saying.
"My Own Worst Enemy." A bit too autobiographical. One word: Tequila.
"The Unit." Biography of a well-endowed man? Gotta be better than the 7000th show about some sort of military group. I bet this is a more serious A-Team…but if it was about John Holmes, it would be more entertaining.
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