Let’s face it, I have no friggin’ clue who reads this stuff, or if I have readers at this here point. I have a stats page, which I check now and then and note that “readership” seems to be going up. But when I dig into said stats, it appears that many of my readership seem to stop by for a few seconds to attempt to leave spam in the comments before leaving. Or, they’re using an image from here as an avatar at MyDumbass or PrincessMarySueFanfic.com
There are at least one or two of you, because you comment, and that’s nice. But frankly, lately there hasn’t been much to read here of any interest unless you like regurgitated news stories about irritating politicians and religious people who happen to like show tunes.
I’ll try to do better.
My husband David is in the other room, blogging his total disenchantMEHnt with the Robert Altman “A Prairie Home Companion” movie we just saw. He didn’t enjoy it except for the “dirty jokes” song with Dusty and Lefty, the old trailhands. I liked it pretty well, except for Virginia Madsen walking around looking portentious in a white trenchcoat. She’s supposed to be an Angel of Death, see, and so she walks around slowly and, theoretically, ethereally. Problem is, she moves rather awkwardly and clomps around in (unseen) high heels. So people on screen are constantly staring after her thoughtfully and somewhat apprehensively, because it’s broadly hinted that they all know exactly who and what she is, but as she’s wobbling out of frame, you hear this “clomp! clomp! clomp!” sound effect, a most un-angelic sound effect.
Or maybe that was just the Foley guy, having a little fun.
Anyway, aside from that I enjoyed it, though I probably would have liked it better if it had just been a straight-on concert show with Guy Noir and the Old Trailhands cast just as they were, as if they really existed.
Also… there didn’t seem to be a tale from Lake Woebegon, although Garrison Keillor seemed to be telling it as an aside to one or another person backstage through most of the action.
Anyway, I’ll try to do better and write more personal things, rather than impersonal things.
For instance, Mom’s desk and recliner arrive tomorrow. My sister Timmy tells me the house is mostly cleared out aside from “the basement. YUCK!” Said basement was known as “The Black Hole of Calcutta” in Mom’s lifetime. There’s a lot of fabric and sewing stuff down there, plus some odds and ends of tools and old books, none of which any of us daughters really wanted or needed. They’re up for grabs for the rest of the family, though they’ll probably end up in a yard sale.
I’m actually looking forward to having the recliner, though I’m not sure where I’ll put it. Eventually, the fabled “third bedroom” with the floor project from hell.
Speaking of PrincessMarySueFanfic.com, David and I happened to watch a couple of Star Trek: Next Gen episodes the other day that I’d never seen, and one of them played out like extremely bad MarySue fanfic, complete with an undead mostly immortal Scottish lover. The other one had Worf looking hot and irritable in a very uncomfortable and nerdy looking hat that fastened under the chin. Both were icky, each in its own special way. What I could have used was a nice politically ambiguous DS9 marathon, complete with the “Klingon Opera” episode with Worf and Jadzia. Now THAT was action!
We’re not planning anything special for the holiday here – I work tomorrow, so David’s taking delivery of the furniture. Tuesday, may go see fireworks, although most in the area take place on the 3rd. We’ll see.
In any case, more not-very-interesting but personal stuff will ensue. Stay tuned.