25 posts

Pretty Woman (Walking Down The Street)*

When I saw a woman walking on the street in just a bathing suit I did not say anything. I told myself there could be any number of reasons for such a thing. “Out patient” came to mind, as did “house fire” or “lost luggage.” My therapeutic self wondered if she’d yet to find closure for an unfortunate childhood experience. I decided that a woman walking down the street (of a major metropolis) in only a bathing suit was if not entirely a one-off well then certainly an anomaly. And then I saw another one. However this one was not alone. She was walking with a male companion and talking on the phone (indications of someone sane enough to be socializing.) She was walking right up the avenue, if you will, on the Upper East Side. (For those unfamiliar with this territory think: uber-conventional, traditional, society, kind of reputation. There was a time you would find actual blue haired ladies in the area. Today those ladies are tightly pulled and puffed.) There she was, strolling along in her two scraps of fabric, dyed jet black and white hair, and ink intensive tattoo spanning shoulder to shoulder. No doubt coming from a fitting, choosing a hat or on her way to plan a brunch. Continue reading

Summer 2011 TV Preview

Summer TV gets a bad rap. I should know; I’m one of those people who’s always hated it. But have you really taken a look at summer’s offerings recently? I mean really looked, beyond shows like Wipeout and Generic Reality Show: Fifth Season of Jackassery. Because ya know what? Somehow, while we were busy actually getting some sun and fresh air, summer TV was out getting…kinda good. Sure, it’s good in a super trashy, intellect-free sort of way–especially now that Mad Men won’t be airing until 2012–but really, isn’t throwing seriousness to the wind what summer is all about?

Continue reading

Create-A-Word! (SuburboWASP Style!)

Tobay Beach

Heh.  Denton’s smarmy non-apology to we commenters made me realize how far superior our new confection is.  No ads.  No Cheetos.  No Black Swans.  No First!!101!.   Gawker is now like Times Square – fit only for tourists who want to… well, Gawk.  And enrich others while doing it.

We can do whatever we want and no one can stop us and if I want to run through the grass Dad just cut until the green grass juice is on my feet instead of in my smoothie I can.  We can tell secrets and jokes in our treehouse and I’ll pick one of Mom’s Tropicana roses and propose to all of you.  (God, we gay kids even have hot pants.)

And then, after the ice cream truck is gone and we’re exhausted, we’ll tell a bunch of stories and make up words.

Tonight’s theme is SUMMER! Because it’s 3 whole months away and I can’t wait.  Here’s what to do: make up a word, add a pronunciation code if you like, add a definition and use it in a sentence.  Uncle Betts will show you how.

1:  Oontzdouche: (OONTZ-doosh):  A young person at the wheel of a rickety car, blasting music into the summer air that sounds like OONTZ-OONTZ-OONTZ! It goes on endlessly and carries through the ocean-scented air like a toxic cloud of throbbing, mutant moths and deformed sugar glider squirrels.  Often followed by a squee of bad car brakes and the clink of a bottle of Miller, now filled with pee, into Mrs. Vacheron’s zinnia bed.

Our first cocktail party in the yard was marked by the Cheever-like hilarity of hearing an oontzdouche trying to compete with Sade’s “Sweetest Taboo”.

2: Sumstandard: (sum-STAN-dahd)  The good feeling that you feel at the end of a summer day when you head into the lav for a badly-needed shower, snap on the light and see what you look like in the mirror.  You have scratches all over you from gardening, you missed some sand between your toes, you’re a bit sunburnt, and you smell like someone sprayed a goat with No. 4711 and Bain de Soliel, and then the goat drank a few cold Sam Adams.  It’s a VERY good feeling.

As the tub was filling and I saw how disheveled I was, I felt so sumstandard that it was like That Summer That Anthony Walked Me Into The Barnett’s Pool Cabana, Holding My Hand.

3: Gumfields: (GUHM-feeldz): The place in your mouth between your teeth where little bits of fresh, sweet corn kernels spend their nostalgic last moments before you pick or floss them to join their brethren.   You have to pick or floss.  They’re not coming out any other way.

I had two full gumfields, but my God, that farm stand has the best damn July corn ever.

You try!  Make up a summer word!


Photo here.