Dumbass Independent Award

Dumbass Independent Award

Monday, January 30, 2012

THE FALL OF GLAMOR



I am so sad I fear I shall not recover. In my life I have seen the

dawn of television, the genesis of

color television, the dubious move to nothing but

digital television, and the questionable direction our Hollywood enigma has taken.

I remember the glamor and awe of Clarke Gable, Cary Grant,

Barbara Stanwyk, Carole Lombard, Barbara Eden,

Elizabeth Montgomery, James Arness,

George Burns and his delightfully ditzy Gracie Allen.

Where oh where has the glamor gone? Where oh where does humor now hide? Where oh where has the mystery flown?

History is a double-edged sword because we no longer are hidden from the dirtier side the Movie Powerhouses kept from us.

Who among us knew Rock Hudson, that tall, dark, and deliciously comedic actor that co-starred with Doris Day in so many of those movies we all adored seeing, was gay? The powerhouses knew it, but not us.

Can you imagine an up and coming Marilyn Monroe achieving "stardom" because a home-made porn movie of her sexual antics was released for the masses to drool over? What would Mayer have done if such a film existed and

Norma Jean, hungering to become Marilyn, allowed such a film out?

Where has the aura of "special" gone? The Golden Globes...Kim Kardashian,

Paris Hilton...how did it come to pass our measuring stick has sunk so low, these people are now the "STARS" of today?

What, one wonders, could David Selznick think of the reality shows that raise someone to stardom because an old geezer like

Hugh Hefner pops Viagra and then boasts about his forays with children young enough to be his great-granddaughters?

I miss the mystery...the illusion of something special existing beyond the fantasy on the screens.

I miss the glamor...I miss the charm...the exclusivity of old Hollywood. Of course I also miss being able to turn on my TV and actually having my FREE stations without needing to invest in cable, dish, or

high priced antennas I cannot have here in my apartment. Thank you so much for that

Dubya! Couldn't leave well enough alone could you?

Ah...but then again, given what is on television mostly,

perhaps Dubya did me a favor depriving me of my access to free local stations.

Oh I can hear many of you saying, you get free stations with the new TVs and their embedded convertor boxes...and that's somewhat true...I guess...if you live in a house

and can buy a big antenna. Again, I live in an apartment. I get two stations ONLY that come through always without pixelation, signal breaking, or no signal at all. I can't even get

PBS. Do you have any idea how pathetic it is to not be able to get PUBLIC TV?

So again, Geeze thanks so much Dubya. You really IMPROVED my entertainment.

I must qualify some of what I've said...There is SOME glamor and from a surprising corner.

I am of course speaking of Angelina Jolie. Back in her Billie Bob days I despaired for this young woman, but since adopting

Maddox, she has matured, and given us the mystique, once more, that

Rita Hayworth,

Jane Russel, and a young

Betty Davis gave our mothers and fathers.

Despite Angelina's youth, we no longer see her strutting around in micro-mini's, bikinis, or other 'inis.

We see her spending time with her children and seeming to enjoy them. 

We see her looking decidely elegant, in the same way

Grace Kelly exuded elegance, when she steps out

with the father of her children, Brad Pitt.

Now I can hear some of you arguing...but they're not married! Many other stars have lived outside the boundaries of marriage without a tenth of the hassles

Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie get trashed with.

Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russel have been happily unwed now for twenty-five years. Okay, they only had ONE son together, but between them they still had a total of FOUR children.

Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins only just slpit up after 23 unmarried years and two sons. Did they get trashed as much as the Jolie-Pitts?

Ironic that a couple exuding the elegance and mystery of old Hollywood gets hassled the most.

Back to my main topic, I really don't care about

Gene Simmons and his private life. I had no interest at all in

Anna Nicole Smith's private insanity that led to her untimely death.

I didn't want to know what Elvis did behind

the gates of Graceland. I loved his rendering of

Blue Hawaii, and that is what I hold dear to me. Yes, I enjoyed even some of his fluff movies...but I loved 
Belgian Flaming Star Movie Poster
Flaming Star where he played the convincing half breed.

I sooo miss the aura, the mystery, the panache...Hollywood...where have you gone?

Do you think we'll ever return to that time? Or are we stuck with a system that lets those who behave badly

and star on reality shows are the ones that stare back at us from the covers of so many magazines?

Bring back the Gene Tierneys, please!

Sunday, January 29, 2012

A DUMBASS MOTHER BREAKS SOME MORE

Yep me...

I'm a dumbass Mom.

I cannot help but wonder if we ever reach a point as parents where we can truly insulate ourselves against the 

poison arrows our children toss even when I doubt they realize they're' tossing them?

Today is a full month and change since Christmas. My son, my first born,

My Little Man, who has not been My Little Man for a very long time...too long...arrived at my home today to deliver the Christmas Gifts collecting dust at his home all this time.

I know it's always the thought that counts. He lives an hour away...so it's understandable he could not have found the time in his world to come and bring the gifts that suddenly today, because he had business nearby...he HAD to come and deliver.

Business...hmmm another thing to place before whatever should or shouldn't exist between us. Take away the veils, and business is the true motivation for him coming here today, without bothering to find out if we'd even be here....and only so he could drop the stuff off and turn right around and leave.

I just now opened his gifts up. I think I have known in the pit of my stomach all afternoon and into this evening, his gifts would

open new wounds, and scratch the scabs

from old ones.

I ache for the mistakes I made, a single parent, escaping a violent marriage from a man with a federal badge. I made so many mistakes as the doctors rebuilt my body enough to make me capable of functioning somewhat like a human being again.

I made so many mistakes because I did not know how to be an effective mom to a son with so much anger inside him...justifiable anger, and yes, I own some of that anger...but not all.

Still his sister and I were the only ones here for him to aim the intense rage living within him at.

There comes a time when sanity and something sort of like peace requires breaking the ties and letting him live his life...

We did that.

If only he could do the same for us.


Tomorrow's my daughter's birthday. She checked her e-mail around three o'clock this afternoon when we returned from celebrating her birthday with a lunch out. Her brother's wife sent an e-mail after 1:00 saying they'd be stopping by long enough to drop off gifts but leaving right away.

Naturally she thought they'd remembered her birthday. Surprised the living daylights out of her...so imagine what it did to her when they arrived, and the gifts are our Christmas Gifts?

When I explained why we weren't here at the appointed time in the e-mail we didn't get until we got home, (they were to be here at 2:15,) he jolted and hurriedly said "Happy Birthday" to her?

We did not expect anything for Christmas. Haven't actually expected anything for a long time.

My son has a granddaughter, Jade, we've never met. I've made her winter hats, and bought her birthday gifts, and Christmas gifts, but in going on four years now, we have never met Jade.

I'll never have grandchildren of my own, so this great-granddaughter by marriage seemed like a miracle...but in all these years we've never met her.

The last gift I opened, wrapped in the Sunday comics from a newspaper was this

...and my

heart broke, took a nose dive, and shattered. I don't know Jade, and I'm not sure I know my son or my daughter-in-law, Jade's actual Grandma.

Homemade cookies beyond stale...and a summer tank top for Kat...came to her today, the day before her birthday, and over a month after Christmas.

No matter how well you think you've protected yourself from being hurt by your children, they find a way. I love my son, but I really don't want to

cry any more because of him. Is that wrong?