People Will See Me and Cry

Sometimes I wonder where I been, who I am, do I fit in? No I don't really. But I was thinking about Irene Cara and Fame.

My husband said to me, "Are we in such bad shape creatively, as a country, that we're remaking Fame?" Um, yes we are.

I've been to see a slew of movies recently, almost all of them terrible. I went to see Couples Retreat this weekend. The film had its moments, none of them funny. From the beginning, I thought to myself, "Hey, maybe I should've listened to Rotten Tomatoes."

Is his Junk Showing?

Couples Retreat opens with a powerpoint presentation involving "ball cancer" aka prostate cancer. Really bummed because this is yet another idea in our screenplay that is now out there, been done and poorly.

Then there is this bit where Jason Bateman breaks into Vince Vaughn's home causing the alarm to sound. Vince has to call his alarm provider and give the code word, ass-tastic. Might've flown if he'd left it at that but he chose to spell ass-tastic and then repeat it and then Jason repeated it and then I nodded off.

I also saw The Proposal -- spoiler alert, just pop in during the last 30 minutes to catch Ryan Reynolds shirtless, then naked. Betty White, an unbelievably talented comedian, is ridiculous as the dotty grandmother. And Sandra Bullock has done something to her face, not sure what, but it is entirely line-free and sort of waxy.

I saw The Ugly Truth with Katherine Heigl and Gerard Butler. I'm a fan of both actors but was shocked by the crassness and really just tacky love story that was to my horror, written by three women. "Flicking the bean" is a new expression I learned. That's all I can say about The Ugly Truth.

I know that critics are a dime a dozen and hey the truth is I've been sitting on my crappy-ass screenplay for years now. But as an audience member who has actually paid $7.25 just to get in, excluding popcorn and medium diet coke, I think I deserve better. Really I haven't even set the bar very high. Die Hard? Seen 'em all. Sandra Bullock rom coms. Check. As previously stated, I have a thing for Steven Seagal movies. So really, very low bar. (No knock against Katherine Heigl who was also in a Steven Seagal movie.)

I'm tired of Seth Rogen, Paul Rudd, this guy and Jonah Hill. Couldn't you cast Paul Rudd with Katherine Heigl and Seth Rogen with Gerard Butler? Or Vince Vaughn and Zooey Deschanel? She can sing and he can dance.

Shake it up a little bit. Go crazy. Take chances. I mean isn't the movie business the riskiest business of all?

Twitter and Real Life: When Worlds Collide

Yesterday I found out one of my twitter pals lives in Norwalk, CT about 20 minutes from my house. I've promised to keep her identity and location a secret from the rest of the twitterverse. She's one of those masked men on twitter with neither picture nor location given. Her twavatar is a fuse box.

We came to the realization that we were neighbors through a circuitous route. We were talking about Bob from The Biggest Loser. (Just Bob, no last name) We were talking about Bob because my husband is working on a website for Bob's latest promotion, NUT-trition, a joint-venture with Planter's. I guess my twitter friend decided to take a closer look at me and figured out I was from Fairfield, CT.

At first, I felt sort of alarmed by her proximity. A big part of twitter is the anonymity, the mystery, the fake ID's. Sometimes I wonder, "Hey what does @badbanana look like in real life?" Or I'll say to myself, "Is that guy flirting with me or is he just waging an aggressive twitter follower campaign?"

I think @ArrogantGrump was flirting with me but he's since moved on to greener pastures.

This morning I had two unique Direct Messages from new twitter followers. Most of the time, the messages are along the lines of thanks for the follow and check out my system for making thousands of dollars on twitter. Or check out my naughty video. One lady asked me to help her pay for her 11 year-old daughter's college tuition. Needless to say, I feel my priority is to put my own 11 year-old through college.

New follower @kazukitakizawa in Hawaii asked me to help him move his 10ft tall sculpture with link to said sculpture. A quote-unquote Auric Shelter, the piece, installed at the University of Hawaii at Manoa, was designed to reduce students' stress during finals week--using principles of color therapy. @kazukitakizawa is asking twitter followers to donate $4,000 to help with moving the sculpture from place to place, reducing stress all along the way.

Another new twitter follower offered me a free download of his new ambient album. I took a listen this morning and it's kind of nice. For a moment I was transported to a time and place when I could afford massages and spa treatments. I was having sensory memory of almond oil and incense.

It's tricky water we're navigating on twitter. Me and my new friend in Norwalk. The sculptor and the maker of ambient music. Who knows what we're like in real life?

Now crickets are chirping on the ambient album. We're all crickets out there in twitterville. Making odd, soothing music in concert with millions.

The Fight

Today I had an argument with my husband and I went too far. Now he can't look at me. That's not a good sign. That means, "I'm not even mad at you anymore. I just can't stand to be around you."

In any marriage or long-term relationship, there are arguments and people say things they don't mean in the heat of the moment. In my humble opinion, based on 12 years into this relationship, civility is the first thing to go between two people spending night and day together.

First it's a feeling of comfort that you know all their little quirks. Then those quirks begin to wear thin. My husband really loves that I can't find my keys. Ever. I love that he folds his receipts with origami-like precision, a process that takes about 5 minutes. He's a little bit anal, I'm a little bit ADD. The bloom is off the rose as they say.

The difficulty in many relationships is remembering to be civil to one another even when you want to kill someone for doing that annoying thing just one more time. Do unto others. Judge not lest ye be judged. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife. Oh wait, that's something else. (My husband loves when I use humor to avoid serious discussions.)

All I can do now is apologize and wait it out. Hopefully he'll forgive me in a day or so. Tonight we get to have the awkward dinner with my family and pretend to be in love, happily married, close. At a minimum, I know I will be civil. I owe him that at the very least.

Independence Day

Yesterday was a really good day for my son Will. He actually turned to me at one point and said, "Mom this is a really great day."

After meeting with Will's middle school teachers and guidance counselors the week before, we all agreed Will's primary issue at school was self-reliance.

To that end, we sent him off to school yesterday with a mission. He had to, on his own, find the after school Homework Club and navigate the late bus home. Mind you, last week I'd given him instructions not to take the bus home--that I would pick him up instead. It turned into a fiasco of epic proportions that ended with both of us crying, lost and finally reunited after about 45 minutes.

I began to get anxious around 3pm, the normal end of the school day. I was anticipating a call from someone along the lines of , "Hey we've got your kid here and you might want to pick him up." Instead, at 4:15 on the money Will came strolling off the bus with a big smile on his face. He'd done it all by himself!

Will is our only child and he's a gosh darn good one. My husband likes to tell the story of the moments right after he was born. Rod put his hand on Will's chest for the first time. He just sat there looking quietly up at his dad. Calm, happy, with thick head of hair that the nurses parted on the side.

I used to think I would have more input into how Will grows up, that my job was to mold him. Now I think Will was born the way he is and my job is to not screw him up.

I heard this interview on NPR last weekend. Michael Feldman's guest on Whad'Ya Know? was screenwriter / essayist Paul Rudnick. Rudnick told some very funny stories about Hollywood and writing the screenplay for the Addams Family. He loved writing for these unconventional children Wednesday and Pugsley. Rudnick says this about parenting:

Also I'm a firm believer in the fact that anyone's personality is basically formed about 6 seconds after birth so parents should stop worrying so much. You know if your child is going to grow up to become a serial killer or Vice President or whatever it is so out of your control.  You know I say just treat'em like time bombs.

While I tend to agree, particularly now in this insane age of helicopter parenting, I think I was molding Will's behavior in a sense. Because I didn't have faith in him, Will was losing faith in himself.

I still believe Will was born the way he is and I should support that. But I can also see that by not supporting him, I was changing his personality. He'd gone from that first 6 seconds of serene happiness to self-doubt and fear.

As we were walking to school this morning, I said to Will, "I'm really proud of how well you did yesterday. I underestimated what you were capable of doing."

He said, "I know. I underestimated myself."

Georgia Couple Finds Safe Harbor in Connecticut

Christopher and Sandra Yarborough were in Connecticut to collect the Jenny, a 25-foot sailboat they bought from an owner in Southport. Shortly after setting out on their journey to Florida, their trip abruptly came to a halt when the Jenny ran aground at a nearby beach.

With a damaged rudder, no gas and no water, the Yarboroughs were in serious trouble. In the distance, they could see people running up and down the beach. Sandra Yarborough said, “The water was so big and it was very windy. If one of those waves hit us, we felt like it would turn us over. Then we saw the people coming out of their houses. They got us off the boat.”

Mr. Yarborough was shaking when the two were brought to safety. His rescuers were concerned he might have hypothermia but he was feeling fine within an hour. Both of the Yarboroughs have survived major health crises. Christopher Yarborough, 59, suffered a stroke in 1999, which paralyzed his left side. In 1982, Sandra Yarborough, 57, was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and given only six months to live. Although she continues to move in and out of remission, her doctors felt she was fit enough to make the voyage. “I tend to beat the odds,” she says.

The Yarboroughs were housed temporarily in a nearby inn but they were anxious to get back to their boat and be reunited with their pets Greenie, a 3 year-old Jack Russell and Ralph, their 17 year-old orange cat. The Jenny, the couple and their pets are now safely berthed at the Fayerweather Yacht Club in the Black Rock section of Bridgeport, Connecticut.

Club members have been working furiously to get their boat into shipshape for the trip from Connecticut to Cocoa Village, Fla. Timing is critical as the season is already beginning to change in Connecticut. Originally scheduled to set sail this past Sunday, some of the club members asked that the Yarboroughs postpone the trip for a couple of days to pull the sailboat of out the water and make doubly sure she is seaworthy.

On Friday, another captain, Bob Butler, took Sandra Yarborough out on his boat, the Whisper to guide her though the route they’ll be taking next week. “The trip gave me a point of reference that I can see, so I’m not just navigating from charts,” said Yarborough.

The voyage from Connecticut through New York City can be tricky, including navigating the treacherous Hell Gate passage between the Bronx and Queens. The Jenny will make her way through New York's East River, sailing under the Verrazano Narrows Bridge, and on to New Jersey.

Their newly found friends in Connecticut are concerned for their safety but recognize the grit and determination the Yarboroughs have to make their trip South. To that end, the members of Fayerweather Yacht Club have banded together to support the Yarboroughs in their dream. The boat repairs, gas for the boat, and housing the boat have all been paid for by the yacht club. Club members have also donated $300, a GPS system, autopilot system and new battery. When the Yarboroughs set sail next Wednesday they will be surrounded by well-wishers, people they might never have known if they hadn’t run aground in Connecticut.

The Yarboroughs first stop is just past Executioner’s Rock near New Rochelle, New York. Prior to the Revolutionary War, British soldiers brought colonial prisoners to the spot to be tortured and ultimately drowned. Sounds scary but the Yarboroughs aren’t spooked. “No. I’m not really nervous. I have my faith. The Lord has never given me anything I can’t handle,” said Sandra Yarborough.

As Georgians, the Yarboroughs might not have expected to be greeted with this outpouring of Northern hospitality. When asked if she was surprised by the kindness of strangers in Connecticut, Sandra Yarborough said, “I take people on how I meet them, not on what I hear about them. These people, they claim they don’t have wings. But I see their wings all the time.”

Dooce in Twitter Smackdown

In the PR biz, you know at some point your client is going to take a hit. A product is not well-received, an executive says something stupid or your numbers hit the skids. It's just a fact of life. One thing I've always told clients at this critical juncture is, "Don't worry. Americans love an underdog."

After all, we are a nation that watched Rocky four times. Or was it five?

Right now, as we speak, one of the biggest mommy bloggers out there, Heather Armstrong, is in an all-out war on twitter https://twitter.com/dooce). Beloved for her brutally frank writing about mommyhood and marriage, she has over a million followers. Maytag recently learned their lesson when they tangled with Dooce. After a negative experience with one of their washers, Ms. Armstrong repeatedly twittered DO NOT BUY MAYTAG, revealing she'd been offered machines for free by other vendors.

In this very astute piece about Dooce vs. Maytag, writer Anna asks if this is Brand Bullying. She calls out Dooce's recent change in bahavior from twitter "broadcaster" to conversationalist. Before most of her tweets were just sent out there into the universe or she would occasionally reply to @blurb (her husband) and other close friends. Suddenly she began engaging her audience, using the @twittername convention to give a shout-out to readers and followers.

Tonight, there is something else afoot in twitterland. A few bloggers @lydahl and @namechanged began making negative comments about @dooce. It may not seem like it, but this is either courageous or downright crazy. It's like David messing with Goliath.

Twitter at this point is still primarily populated by people on their best behavior. You get the occasional porn bot (or more than occasional) but for the most part people are using good manners, smiley faces and exclamation points to show their enthusiasm.

Tonight, that went to hell in a handbasket. Dooce instigated a program called "Monetizing the Hate". The idea is to take all the trash talk written about Dooce, put it in one place and then "litter the entire thing with ads". So aside from the mommy blogger swag, speaking engagements, book deal and other revenues enjoyed by Ms. Armstrong, she would also make money off her hate mail. Ingenious really.

In all fairness, Dooce has said she planned to donate all the money from Monetize the Hate. Still, the idea did not sit well with some of Dooce's followers like @lydahl and @namechanged who called Dooce out in a public forum on twitter. Then Dooce's husband @blurb got involved in response to @lydahl calling their behavior #douchebaggy, saying "Stop being insecure."

A few samples of the exchanges going on in the twitterverse:

@apuraja: @blurb @dooce are you guys really so corporate sellouty as it seems? Ducking for cover as poop is thrown my way.

@juliamstewart @blurb @dooce don't worry if you have old fans complaining, you have new ones like me enjoying everything

@sunnyhunt @blurb douchebaggy? No. Do I feel a growing disconnect? Yes. Love reading you and Dooce but growing harder to identify and enjoy lately.

Douchebaggy? Sellouty? Like a twittered down version of cursing. For now, a few little-known bloggers have become the underdog, joined by others if only in our chicken-shit minds. But the tide will likely turn at some point and @dooce will become the underdog. We are a society that can't abide too much love. Every once in awhile, we like to knock our heroes off their pedestals.

NB: @namechanged isn't an actual twitter username. After seeing this post, she sent me a very sweet missive asking me to mind my own (f-word) business. Sending smiley faces to you @namechanged.

Juan Martin

I rarely watch tennis because I prefer to play. Last night was the men's final at the US Open and while I hadn't planned it, I did watch the match. Juan Martin del Potro played Roger Federer. Del Potro is from Argentina and quite a lovely specimen. Unbelievably del Potro came back from losing the first set and being down in the second set to win.

While watching, I was also twittering and pulling for del Potro. Roger is a great guy and all but come on. He hasn't lost a match in years. So del Potro, in reality the person pretending to be del Potro, started following me on twitter. The real del Potro I found out sadly is @delpo

I ran upstairs to tell my husband. about my new follower. "Del Potro is following me. He's following me," I said.

"He's not really your type," my husband said. "With the facial hair and all."

Honestly, I could overcome my aversion to facial hair with JMDP.

To allay his fears that I might run off with Juan Martin, I said, "You don't have to worry."

He said, "I'm not."

My husband has a thing for those old school girls like Angie Dickinson and Barbara Eden.

So I said, "Hey maybe Angie Dickinson will follow you."

He said, "Isn't she dead?"