Category Archives: Movies, Television and Radio

Pomp and circumstance

Tomorrow is the big day–my son’s college graduation.

In the movie Parenthood, the grandfather, played by Jason Robards, observes this about being a parent:  “You never get to spike the ball in the end zone and do your victory dance.  It never ends.”

There’s no doubt that’s true.  But tomorrow will be pretty darn close.

As much as I look forward to watching my son walk across that platform, there’s something else I am looking forward to.

Yes, the all-important commencement address.  I’ve heard very few in my lifetime.  My father was the commencement speaker at my high school graduation and, while he was a big hit, I’d heard him speak a few times before.  I didn’t participate in my own college graduation exercises because I was already working full time and didn’t consider it important.

This time of year, I enjoy reading the various commencement addresses.  These speeches are intended to give young adults advice for succeeding in their professional lives and motivate them to high achievement.

Let’s get real.  The graduates are sitting there numb from exams and term papers, perhaps a little hungover, and exhausted from clearing away the leaning towers of pizza boxes and other debris that’s piled up all year, in anticipation of their parents’ arrival.

A commencement speaker with any hope of stirring these men and women had better make it pithy, punchy and to the point.

I’m no Kurt Vonnegut  (who reportedly never delivered that famous Wear Sunscreen speech at MIT), but I’ve often wondered what I’d say if I were in front of an audience of graduating seniors. 

I thought back to something I did when my son went off to college four years ago.  As the nerdy, over-involved mother I am, I jotted a list of keys to success, typed it out and framed it to sit on the desk in his dorm room, so he could look at it every day and be inspired.  I think it came home sophomore year, never to be read again.

10 Secrets for Lifetime Success and Happiness

  1. Drink water – eight glasses a day will keep you healthy, inside and out.
  2. Read the paper – know what is going on in the world; be informed, keep a global perspective.
  3. Say your prayers – ask for guidance and give thanks.
  4. Say no – to options that are destructive to yourself and others.
  5. Say yes – to opportunities to do good for yourself and others.
  6. Count your blessings – at the end of every day, think of three things you are thankful for.  Even when you have a bad day, you will always find something good, however small.
  7. Make eye contact – look people in the eye; it will help you to be a good listener.
  8. Keep God at the center – let him, not you, be the focus of your life.
  9. Help the needy – be attuned to those who are vulnerable and tend to them.
  10. Call your mother – she worries.

Maybe I’d add “watch your grammar.” 

If you had one piece of advice for today’s college graduate—perhaps something that has worked for you or something you would have done differently—what would it be?

In the meantime, I will enjoy the big day and might even do a little victory dance.

Reminder:  Word Nymph doesn’t post on Sunday.  Did I mention my son is graduating?

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Family and Friends, Movies, Television and Radio

Fashion nonsense

You’ve got to love the lingo of the fashion industry.

Fashion is a heavy-hitting segment of the world economy, so it should be taken seriously.  But is it taking itself too seriously?

I am slow to keep up with the jargon.   Shrugs, jeggings, boyfriend jeans.  I am often garment-naïve until these styles are already passé.  I know tunic because Julius Caesar wore one.  As an aside, my husband was shocked recently to see a storefront sign advertising the “boyfriend crop.”  He thought it was an S&M device.

I try to listen to fashion consultant Stacy London, host of What Not to Wear, when she tells us how it is–what clothing styles we should wear for our body types or how to make an impression at that all-important social occasion.  Heaven knows, I need all the help I can get.

But there’s something about Stacy and her ilk that I just can’t take seriously when I hear:

“If you are wearing a sequined evening gown, you need a shoe…” or

“If you are short and stocky, you should wear a pant…”

A shoe?  A pant?  Just one?

OK, I know that’s accepted fashion-speak, but are we supposed to go along with this without snickering?

I’m not sure I can stand to listen to it anymore.  Maybe I’ll go out and buy an earmuff.

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Beauty and Fashion, Movies, Television and Radio, News

Today is history

My blood was literally boiling (just making sure you are paying attention).

Yesterday morning on Weekend Today, an error-filled news caption hit me like finger flick between the eyes.  Occasional errors happen—everyone’s human—and,  given it was Sunday, I decided to be charitable and give the show a chance to notice and correct it before the end of the piece.  It almost always happens that way.  A misspelled word or other error appears in the caption but the next time it appears, it’s been corrected.  Not this time.

The caption read, “Single Mom’s of Choice” and focused on women who opt for artificial insemination over waiting for a mate.  Of course the first thing that jumped off the screen (not literally but almost) was the misplaced apostrophe in Mom’s.  Then I noticed the erroneous preposition.  It should have read Single Moms by Choice, not of Choice.  Single moms of choice would mean someone chose them.  The whole caption needed to be scrapped.

Jenna Wolfe had introduced the piece by saying that “one out of four children are raised by a single parent.”  Come on, where are the editors?   As the sloppy caption popped up for about the fourth time, “Relationship Expert” Robi Ludwig explained that for women over 35, “their options for fertility is decreasing.” 

I had already choked on my French Roast during Jenna’s earlier blathering about something, I can’t recall what because all I heard was, “I was like…and Lester was like… and then I was like…and then he was like…”  Is this a morning news program or the cafeteria at San Fernando Valley Junior High?

That’s it.  Charles Osgood, I’ve loved you for years.  You are smart and articulate and your stories are intelligent and interesting.  I’ve seen the error of my ways.  I am moving to CBS where the writers, producers, anchors and reporters don’t share one brain cell.

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Movies, Television and Radio, News, Rants and Raves

Frenzied New Yorker

One of my great indulgences is The New Yorker magazine.  For anyone who savors the delicacy of the written word, The New Yorker is the crème de la crème.

I’ve never subscribed to this weekly magazine.  That would be like having a case of dark chocolate truffles delivered to your home every week.  Instead, The New Yorker always been a special treat, reserved for rare times of prolonged quietude—a coast-to-coast plane ride, a long weekend at the beach.

A few years ago, a friend who was moving out of the country transferred his subscription to me.  I never would have chosen to order this frivolous subscription but I won’t lie, I was aquiver with anticipation. 

The first issue came.  I started with the first pages and read each Going on About Town, including the off-off-off-Broadway performances.  As if I’d have the chance to pop into one.  Each day, I enjoyed a bit of the week’s issue, savoring the essays, poems and cartoons.  But it was a challenge to get through each issue before the next one arrived.  I’d see the new one come in and I’d work to finish the last.  I wouldn’t even peek at one until I’d finished the last. 

I couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t appreciate the writing the way I always had because it had become a chore, a quest.  The weeks went by more and more quickly.  How could it be Monday already when I am only three-quarters finished with last week’s issue?  I was no longer savoring, I was binge reading.

Then it struck me – the image of Lucy Ricardo and Ethel Mertz, scoring their dream job at the candy factory.  They thought it would be enjoyable, even easy.  And it was, until the conveyer belt went into high gear.  The ladies struggled to wrap the truffles as the candies raced by, eating those there wasn’t time to wrap.  Not a bad assignment, enjoying chocolates while doing the job.  Then the shift supervisor shouted, “Speed it up!”  as the candies came at them at an impossible speed.  Cheeks and blouses were bulging with the chocolates that eventually made them ill.

And so it was with The New Yorker—too much of a good thing coming way too fast.  Mercifully, the subscription expired.

The New Yorker and I have made our peace.  We still meet every now and then, usually in an airport news stand in a city far away.  It is sweet.

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Filed under All Things Wordish, Foibles and Faux Pas, Movies, Television and Radio, Reading

Easter brisket

Julia Child, if you’re looking down from your celestial kitchen, look away, dear.  I’m making a brisket.

I’ve always wanted to say that, “I’m making a brisket.” 

I am a carniphobe, intimidated by meat.  Roast not, braise not.  Man versus meat?  Not a contender.  I love to eat it, when someone else cooks it.  But I don’t cook it.  Ever. 

So why the brisket?  I love the word.  Brisket.  It’s crisp, it’s fun to say (perhaps because it rhymes with biscuit?).  Brisket is home, it’s comfort, it’s a special occasion.  Women who make brisket are respected. 

When brisket comes up in conversation it is intimate and holy, “my mother’s brisket.”  Whispered at a Shiva, “she made a fabulous brisket.”

Just this week, The Big Bang Theory had the guys stranded in the woods without food.  As they were getting desperate, Howard Wolowitz exclaimed, “my mother put an I-love-you brisket in my backpack!”

The next day, coincidentally the first day of Passover, I was in front of the meat case hearing voices. I think it was Trader Joe himself, dream music in the background, “Brisket!”  “Monica, you can do it, you can be the woman behind the fabulous brisket.”

So I caved and there it sits, on the bottom shelf in the fridge, waiting to be prepared, fearing it will perish.  Better get out the, uh, what kind of pan do you use?

Note:  Word Nymph shalt not blog on Sundays.  Hope to see you Monday.

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Filed under Food, Holidays, Movies, Television and Radio

One away from the No Fly list

I am a fairly composed person and behave appropriately in most situations.  I demonstrate good manners and a respect for decorum and diplomacy.  Unless something makes me laugh.

I regularly make a fool of myself on airplanes, letting out squeals and snorts while watching an in-flight Mr. Bean video short, or muffling howls during a hilarious scene from a Steve Carell movie.  Recently, while reading A.A. Gill’s tongue-in-cheek review of Kentucky’s Creation Museum in Vanity Fair, I came close to being restrained by federal marshals.

There is something about an airplane that, for me, turns ordinary amusement into a full-blown uncontrollable spectacle. Perhaps it’s that people are already on edge, inconvenienced by security checkpoints and constrained by seatbelts in close quarters.  An airline cabin is a place where howling and snorting just aren’t done.

Perhaps it’s the sanctity of a quiet space that pulls the pin on my explosive laughter.  And I know it’s the same stifling sanctity that prompted Mary Richards’ painful laughing attack at Chuckles the Clown’s funeral in 1975.  It was one of television’s most memorable scenes.   A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down your pants.  Mary, I feel your pain.

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Filed under Foibles and Faux Pas, Movies, Television and Radio, Reading, Travel