tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40431131395153463072024-03-14T01:14:28.963-07:00Linda Lou, live from Las Vegas!Stand-up comic, speaker, and author of BASTARD HUSBAND: A LOVE STORY
<br>Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.comBlogger873125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-8612910224759500552019-05-26T14:01:00.001-07:002019-05-26T19:00:23.799-07:00In dance class, I'm someone's MississippiI've set a new goal for myself: I want to dance. On stage. In a performance with lavish costumes and in a sold-out venue that can hold a couple of hundred people.<br />
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So where did this come from? Well, three years ago Mike and I moved up to Sun City Anthem, a 55+ community on the extreme south side of the Las Vegas valley. This place is amazing; I wish we'd moved here on my 55th birthday. They offer a million activities and clubs, including several in the performing arts. A few weeks ago we attended a song and dance review put on by the Spotlight Club in a beautiful onsite theater. We saw their show last year as well, and both times I sat there watching the dancers--all fellow AARP members--thinking, "I want in."<br />
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And so at a club fair held in one of the ballrooms, I inquired about joining the Spotlight Club. The guy at the table was quick to advise me, ever so diplomatically, that the Spotlight Club was kind of an elite group with more professional level members than some of the other performing arts clubs. I understood; this community of 12,000 is full of performers at the pro level, including the woman who sang the "Meow, meow, meow, meow" cat food commercial. (Truth.) Yet he probably couldn't turn any interested parties away, so I paid my annual dues and became an official card carrying member.<br />
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I learned that dancer auditions for their May 2020 show will be held on June 17, and received an email with videos of the choreographer walking through the two audition routines. After viewing the videos probably a hundred times, and tripping over myself in my kitchen as I tried to follow along, I wanted to cry. I'm smart enough to know this is way beyond my capabilities.<br />
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You see, I'm not really a dancer; my "formal" dance training is limited to a few years of ballet in middle school and some sporadic classes over the next several decades. I do love to dance, though, and I'm sure I'd be voted Miss Show-Off by the gals in my Zumba class, but confidence does not equal ability. My dance style? Imagine a stripper with cerebral palsy or Elaine's dancing in <i>Seinfeld</i>.<br />
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<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="400" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/DY_DF2Af3LM" width="418"></iframe><br />
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So anyway, yesterday I went to a class put on by the choreographer to help everyone prepare for the audition next month. Even though I arrived promptly at noon, the session obviously was already well underway. About ten dancers--in full makeup, black dance garb and character shoes--sat in the corner as the choreographer held court, and when I walked in everything stopped like "When Merrill Lynch speaks..."<br />
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Certain that I had stumbled into the wrong room, one of the women, who identified herself as the president of the group, rushed over to question me, this unshowered wretch in sloppy gym garb and gray Sketchers, only to determine that yep, I was, in fact, in the right place. I expected her to start fanning herself like I'd just said, "Could ya please pass the jelly?" (That will be my final reference to vintage commercials.)<br />
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"I thought this started at noon?" I whispered. She kind of glared at me and said, "We arrive early to stretch."<br />
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Okaaaaay...<br />
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We went through the routines, and yes, I am in over my head. Nonetheless, the dancers, who clearly have been in many productions together and seem like quite an insulated group, actually did seem to warm up to me. (They should--I'm a lovely f*cking person!) One of the really good ones, who when I first walked in had her leg stretched over her head to the wall behind her, came over during a break and told me to stick with it, and not in a condescending way. Another woman was especially nice, but I'm quite sure that's only because she's no longer the Mississippi of the group.<br />
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I am WAY out of my comfort zone, but I <i>am</i> going to stick with it. I'll be joining a few of the dancers on Wednesday night to go over the routines again, and there's another prep class with the choreographer next Saturday, to which I shall arrive 20 minutes early.<br />
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My first goal is to just to get to--and through--the audition. As I've learned from the great Dr. Leo Marvin, everything starts with baby steps. It's just a little harder when you have two left feet.<br />
<br />Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-63365893428432155552016-07-05T22:05:00.000-07:002016-07-05T22:17:01.826-07:00Leaving the "love palace" and ready for a change!It's been so long since I've written on my blog--almost two and a half years--I've almost forgotten how to work this thing. And who knows, maybe this will be my last post for another two and a half years. Or ever. I hope not.<br />
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We're leaving the "love palace" at the end of the month. Mike's kids moved to New Jersey with their mom in June of last year and it's taken us this long to conclude that 4000 square feet for only two people is a wee bit on the crazy side. So we're downsizing to 2700 square feet, which is still more than double the size of the house I grew up in on Lincoln Avenue in Albany and shared with four siblings, two parents, and a dog. <br />
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Our next stop, and I can hardly say this with a straight face, will be <a href="https://www.sca-hoa.org/outside_home.asp" target="_blank">Sun City Anthem</a>, a 55+ community just up the hill from where we are now. Yes, it's come to this. If you've ever been through a 55+ community, you may have noticed the average age is actually more like 65+. Or 75+. Or <i>whatever</i>, all I know is I'm gonna look like a friggin' supermodel strutting around the pool at the community center. Okay, yeah, I said it.<br />
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Seriously, that place really appeals to me. For one, "active adults" are generally pretty well behaved, and the older I get, the more I appreciate people who mind their manners. Yeah, I said that, too. Also, it will be nice to have someone <i>else </i>take care of the pool. Keeping our pool clean now is a Sisyphean task--one day it can be pristine and then a good wind and rain storm will turn it into a Louisiana swamp. (First-world problem, I know.)<br />
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Mostly I am eager to plug into the dance and yoga classes they offer, and make good use of their beautiful exercise facilities. Plus they have their own TV station and a performance arts group that I want to get involved with. I never thought I'd say this, but can't wait to see what it will be like to be a part of this community.<br />
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Of course, we could hate it. But that's the beauty of renting. Whatev. We'll move on. Right now I'm psyched. We're purging, getting rid of crap that doesn't bring us joy. Making room for new energy. <br />
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Just the thought of this change of scenery is stimulating my creativity, which has been in the SHITTER for a couple of years now. I haven't written a goddamn thing except resumes and proposals, and I'm at that age where one by one my friends are turning 60 and some are even dying. I want to write another book, maybe a screenplay, do more speaking, direct more energy to comedy... and the most ironic thing is, in my day job all I do is tell people to follow their dreams. And at the end of the day, I'm too tired to work on my own freakin' dreams!<br />
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Along with this move, I want simplicity. Less stuff. More saying "no." More time.<br />
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Jane Fonda refers to 60 as the beginning of "life's third act." This is where it all comes together, she says, and we become who we were meant to be, hopefully culminating in a satisfying conclusion. Well, I'm getting ready to script that third act and it's going to be amazing.<br />
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Stay tuned.<br />
<br />Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-56470786113931743372014-02-18T23:22:00.003-08:002014-02-18T23:22:59.738-08:00My badOh, I suck for abandoning you like this.<br />
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It's not that I haven't thought of you. <i>Au contraire.</i> It's like... you know how you have a friend who you really, really like but you haven't talked to in forever and so you know you're gonna need at least an hour and a half to catch up but you don't have that kind of time, so you put it off, put it off... and then you start feeling guilty about what a shitty friend you are and then finally one night on your second glass of wine you're like, hey, fuck it, I'm gonna take 20 minutes right now and although I won't be able to say everything I need to say, it's probably better than nothing and so I'll just pick up the phone and be done with it?<br />
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That's kind of where I'm coming from.<br />
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All is well in my world, I'm happy to say. I was crazy--<i>insane</i>--with work for a long time, but things are calming down significantly now that I have another awesome consultant in the office and we're changing our delivery model a bit. I also decided I'm not going to take on any more freelance work or side resumes or life coaching (blind leading the blind there, anyway), which gives me more time for myself. I'm doing comedy more and although I haven't written anything worthwhile in way too long a time, I'm starting to kick around a few ideas again.<br />
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It's a weird thing when work consumes your life. I never thought it could happen to me; I lean way more on the side of alcoholic than workaholic, or so I've always thought. But I've never had a job that I <i>loved, </i>a job where I get to help people and guide people in their careers, and in their personal endeavors, every single day. And I have an amazing boss who actually appreciates what I do, and who has no problem giving me every tool and resource I need to do my job right.<br />
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But it's still not good to put all your energy eggs into a single basket; interesting people aren't one-note wonders. I want to be interesting again! Plus I've had this blog since July 2008. It wouldn't be good to let this go.<br />
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And so I'm back. Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-57267690129261767392013-11-15T21:55:00.000-08:002013-11-15T21:55:03.358-08:00Keeping an open mind Part 2, courtesy of Andrew Dice ClayBefore I forget, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004M8SVPW?tag=linlouwrihum-20&camp=213381&creative=390973&linkCode=as4&creativeASIN=B004M8SVPW&adid=0E1VE4WWA4JR59K3EBY4&" target="_blank">my Kindle book</a> is FREE this weekend (Friday, Saturday, and Sunday) so before you do one more thing, hop on over to Amazon and pick it up!<br />
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Okay, so if someone had told me 20 years ago that I'd be sitting in the front row of an Andrew Dice Clay show in Las Vegas, I'd have said, "Get the hell out." Seriously. I never cared for his type of humor during his heyday in the late 80s/early 90s; I always considered him to be kind of a misogynist. Not that I'd ever ever actually seen more than a sound byte of his act, but there must have been <i>some </i>reason why Saturday Night Live cast member Nora Dunn refused to appear on the same broadcast as him, right? As did Sinead O'Connor. And in 1989, why would MTV have banned him for life? Huh?<br />
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I've gone years and years without giving "The Dice Man" a second thought. Then last year I considered hiring a comedy coach, <a href="http://wheelsparise.com/" target="_blank">Michael "Wheels" Parise</a>, but was hesitant when I heard he was the opening act, tour manager, and best friend of Andrew Dice Clay. Uhhhhh.... He would probably not be a good coach for me, I reckoned. But then I saw him speak at last year's World Series of Comedy and had a good feeling about him, so I gave him a try. <br />
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Wheels ended up coaching me for several months, and it was the best decision I've made in my so-called comedy career. He's a fabulous teacher who could take me to the next level. That's what fabulous teachers do. And as a performer, he's funny as hell. Here's a clip from one of his shows at The Laugh Factory here in Las Vegas.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/adBRwS7APSs?rel=0" width="420"></iframe><br />
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Anyway, Wheels would mention ADC to me now and then, and then a couple of months ago I had a client whom I really liked and who seemed really funny and <i>he </i>was into him, and then Mike and I saw Blue Jasmine, the latest Woody Allen movie. ADC has a relatively small role in it, but man, he did an AMAZING job. <br />
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I got more curious about ADC, and found out he's Jewish (!) (you know I'm a big fan of the Jews) and we're almost exactly the same age, so I was like, you know, let's check him out. Wheels, God bless him, hooked us up and that's how we ended up front and center, spitting distance from Andrew Dice Clay at the Vinyl showroom at the Hard Rock. <br />
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It was a fun show. Wheels opened and he was hilarious. Then there was a funny chick, Eleanor Kerrigan, who was quick-witted as hell. A perfect selection for the lineup. And ADC--I didn't really know what to expect and was pleasantly surprised. He was amusing; dare I say, there was something endearing about him? Like he might be one of those guys whose stage personal is so unlike how they are in real life. Just a guess.<br />
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You can see some great photos of the three of them on <a href="http://www.vegasnews.com/5051/undisputed-heavyweight-comedy-king-andrew-dice-clay-rolls-into-sugarcane-live.html" target="_blank">this site</a>.<br />
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So getting back to <i>Blue Jasmine</i>. Gotta say I did not love the movie, even though my man Louis CK had a bit part. The acting is amazing, though; it's truly an actor's film, but OMG it is depressing as hell. But again, Andrew Dice Clay was a real highlight.<br />
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Have you ever noticed how well comedians do in dramatic roles? I'm not thinking "Mr. Laughter-Through-Tears" Robin Williams, but Louis CK and Jim Carrey and Steve Martin (LOVED <i>Shopgirl</i>). <br />
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So there you go. Your pal Linda Lou keeps an open mind and wins again. Just don't get used to it. <br />
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Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-53717908889101985272013-11-07T23:19:00.000-08:002013-11-07T23:19:24.841-08:00Keeping an open mind finally pays off--at a strip clubAs you know, I hate compromising. Compromising sucks all around; whenever I'm in a position where I have to compromise, I can guarantee you I'm secretly stewing (maybe not so secretly) because I'm not getting 100% of my way. <br />
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Also I hate keeping an open mind. Whenever somebody encourages me to keep an open mind, I'm like, "I can tell you right now I'm gonna hate this. You can drop the issue, or you can insist that I play along and 'keep an open mind,' and then I'm gonna hate you as well. It's your choice." <br />
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I'm well aware that the window of opportunity of what I like is open but a crack; I'm a picky old bat. And the beautiful thing is, I'm good with it!<br />
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Anyway, several months ago, the <a href="http://www.sapphirelasvegas.com/" target="_blank">Sapphire Gentlemen's Club</a> started doing regular comedy shows. Every once in a while, one of the show's producers would call me to do a set there and I was like... no. Strip clubs are not my scene, which is ironic because I swear to God I think I'd make an incredible stripper if only I could lose about 20 pounds. Yes, I am totally in touch with my inner stripper.<br />
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Anyway, a few weeks ago I got another call and the producer assured me the showroom is beautiful with state-of-the-art blah-blah and it's really a classy place... and I'd be able to do my dirty material, which I kind of enjoy doing more than my clean stuff. Plus I really like the guy, so I said yes to a Friday and Saturday night gig.<br />
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OMG, I had so much fun! The showroom really is beautiful, and it's right near the front entrance, so I didn't have to walk through the club to get to it. The first thing I had to do Friday night was fill out a W-9 tax form, which cracked me up. <i>It took me 56 years, and finally I'm filling out tax forms at a strip club!</i><br />
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The show was a mixture of comedy, magic, and burlesque. I can only imagine how psyched the audience was to see me come out after this hottie.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJNWoWEeh-xe3ehWJTbHxo7MwvwnhvT-v9WGhg-V-577VmAQnwdrmDkK9d_PDbaQ4OF905u2r683rAxFT894ec1REaPMKUbsNfd0L75VcjxVT_VOIzgD1mXO0M2u8fW-_tmacv0JTbZnx4/s1600/feather+girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJNWoWEeh-xe3ehWJTbHxo7MwvwnhvT-v9WGhg-V-577VmAQnwdrmDkK9d_PDbaQ4OF905u2r683rAxFT894ec1REaPMKUbsNfd0L75VcjxVT_VOIzgD1mXO0M2u8fW-_tmacv0JTbZnx4/s400/feather+girl.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
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Wah-wah... :(<br />
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This is funny. After my set, I'm sitting in the audience watching the magician I'd been talking to in the green room, and then... look what he pulls out in the middle of his act:<br />
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I nearly shit. First I was going bonkers because birds indoors freak me out, and then I was like, WHERE THE HELL WAS THAT GODDAMN THING WHEN I WAS BACKSTAGE WITH YOU??? And then the guy pulled out a couple <i>more </i>birds and a <i>cat </i>and I just about needed smelling salts. <br />
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Needless to say, my mission Saturday night was to find out exactly where the birds were and the only time I spent backstage was right before my set, when I was talking to a really nice stripper who had started to read <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004M8SVPW?tag=linlouwrihum-20&camp=213381&creative=390973&linkCode=as4&creativeASIN=B004M8SVPW&adid=0E1VE4WWA4JR59K3EBY4&" target="_blank">my book</a> and she really liked it so I had to give her a hug.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDxvRe0X8tyjtoLakSxuMt6Q2gKTTLnQakDJHxTR5NuWGU68MHsMK4f6-MFmQPHIDp18oOrDafgSjGw_aa_d2AyBFNeMu62Msyma2fBF3i7L6_G6h3ig0oG8WueyOJPCZJ7wUltmHyEoLw/s1600/Me+hugging+stripper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDxvRe0X8tyjtoLakSxuMt6Q2gKTTLnQakDJHxTR5NuWGU68MHsMK4f6-MFmQPHIDp18oOrDafgSjGw_aa_d2AyBFNeMu62Msyma2fBF3i7L6_G6h3ig0oG8WueyOJPCZJ7wUltmHyEoLw/s400/Me+hugging+stripper.jpg" width="267" /></a></div>
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Here's a group shot of me and my new friends:<br />
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So as you can see, this is the one time where keeping an open mind actually paid off. But don't think I'm going to make a habit of it; I'm not about to start eating celery or tofu, and you won't see me at that <i>Gravity </i>movie everyone's raving about. <br />
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But you might see me perform at a strip club again. Fingers crossed!Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-71510565622540817392013-10-30T23:09:00.001-07:002013-10-30T23:09:59.922-07:00Hang in there, pleeeeease!I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate those of you who continue to check in on this blog to see if maybe, finally, I have another post up--especially you there up in Edmonton, Canada! All of you... thank you so much. (I'm still dying to know who the hell the faithful reader is in St. Francisville, Louisiana!)<br />
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So shit is STILL hitting the fan at work these days, and it's worse than ever. I've been working 11-12 hour days and you know that is definitely not me. The craziness has to end because I'm really starting to stress out, and you know there's no friggin' way I want to get a wrinkle over a job. Plus I'm getting fat as hell. UGH! <br />
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Here's a picture of me cooking at a party we had at our house a couple of weeks ago. <br />
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Now I know you're thinking, what the hell happened to Linda??? First she's working all the time, and now she's cooking? Somebody call 9-1-1! <br />
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(Weird or sad that I'm still wearing tie-dye?)<br />
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Anyway, I've decided this madness must come to an end soon and I will be reclaiming my life. I have to. So I will be back very soon, and with full details about what I did last weekend. Here's a little hint, as posted on Facebook:<br />
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I swear, I'll be back very soon! I love you all! XOXOVegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-89099461788043201002013-10-11T00:21:00.000-07:002013-10-11T00:30:53.727-07:00Forgive me...Forgive me for being such a shitty blogger lately. I've been traveling and, as usual, am going out of my friggin' mind at work. I love my job and can't believe how rewarding it is, but man, I'm turning into a one-note wonder with work, work, work.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have been doing some comedy lately, which is good. I did a set up in Boise last weekend and <i>just</i> missed winning a comedy contest at Shakespeare's Pub here in Henderson on Monday night.<span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><span dir="ltr"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span dir="ltr" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> I freakin' killed, but</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><span dir="ltr"><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span dir="ltr" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"> lost by .4 on the audience-o-meter.</span></span></span></span></span> Doesn't matter--it was a really fun
night. I'll be back there on November 4. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><span dir="ltr">UGH! That is a disgusting photo of me, but I have to post it to show the reality that being out of balance is causing me to let myself go. I have never been in this crappy shape. This is a wake-up call. I'm too exhausted after work to exercise, but I gotta do something.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><span dir="ltr">Enough of the complaining. It's after midnight as I'm writing this, and if I don't get to bed, I'll have a miserable day tomorrow. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><span dir="ltr">Be back soon...</span></span></span></span>Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-60740518193037211242013-09-25T23:27:00.001-07:002013-09-27T09:41:12.812-07:00Support your local lionsEvery day on my way home from work I pass the sign for the <a href="http://www.lionhabitatranch.com/" target="_blank">Lion Habitat Ranch</a> on St. Rose Parkway just east of the M Casino, and always wondered what it's all about. Then last week I had dinner with a former client who <i>raved </i>over it, so on Sunday Mike and I took the kids to check it out.<br />
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I loved it! According to one of the handlers, there are 49 lions on site and one white tiger. (Wouldn't you think the tiger would be kind of lonely?) The ranch is very low key and you can get really close to the animals. <br />
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I'm not an animal person; if James Lipton of <i>The Actor's Studio</i> ever asked what my least favorite job would be, I'd say it's a tie between zookeeper and pedicurist. But I am fascinated by animals. As long as they don't touch me. <br />
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The staff was very nice and happy to answer all our questions. Of course, I was a absolutely mortified when, as one of the attendants was showing us the little baby cubs, Mike said, "My wife wanted me to ask you if they make warm slippers." OMG! And until the lady realized he was kidding, you should have seen the look she shot me.<br />
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That reminded me of the time when B.H. and I were hiking outside Boulder, Colorado. We passed a hippie family on the trail proudly walking their pet llama and then B.H. says within their earshot, "I bet the meat is delicious." Another moment when I wanted to melt into the ground. <br />
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Anyway, according to their brochure, the Lion Habitat Ranch supplied the lions for the MGM Grand for 15 years, until they had to leave the hotel in February of 2012 to make room for another nightclub or whatever (dumb move, MGM). In December 2012 the habitat opened to the public.<br />
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The hours are limited; they're open only Friday through Monday from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. It cost $40 for the four of us ($20 for each adult, kids were free), which is not bad, but not necessarily affordable for everyone. There were only a handful of us roaming around the place last Sunday and it doesn't seem to be thriving, which is a shame because it really is cool. If I were queen, this is what I would do:<br />
<ul>
<li>Offer a season's pass for $30. This would encourage people to keep coming back and would keep the place in the forefront of their minds. We would definitely stop in there every so often to see how the lions are doing, but not at $40 a pop. </li>
<li>Spruce up the grounds a bit. Add benches and places to sit and relax. Make it a park-like atmosphere where people could come and hang. </li>
<li>Add a cool gift shop and a food concession. A Starbuck's at the entrance would be fine with me and would increase awareness. Hey, if people can spend four bucks for a coffee, they'd probably be willing to spring for a season's pass to check out the animals.</li>
<li>Set the place up as a non-profit. Recruit volunteers, create fundraising events. </li>
</ul>
Yep, I'm definitely the kind of person who would tell the pope how to say Mass...<br />
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So check this place out. It really looks like it could use some community support. Look how cute this one is:<br />
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Awwww... are you surprised that I'm so into these lions? You shouldn't be--remember my creation in my backyard?<br />
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And I said would hate to be a pedicurist..Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-32227927792749840882013-09-18T22:47:00.000-07:002013-09-18T22:47:48.807-07:00Snooping around Liberace's Las Vegas mansionLast week Mike and I watched <a href="http://www.hbo.com/movies/behind-the-candelabra/index.html" target="_blank"><em>Beyond the Candelabra</em></a>, the HBO movie about the last 10 years of Liberace's life, based on the autobiographical novel by Scott Thorson, his much younger lover. Okay, Mike watched only the beginning of it--nothing will make a heterosexual dude run from a room faster than a depiction of man-on-man action in the sack. Am I right? Even if one of the guys is Matt Damon.<br />
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I held out, mainly because the Emmy Awards are Sunday night and I wanted to see it so I'll know who to root for. Michael Douglas and Matt Damon each give truly amazing performances, no doubt about that. But other than the acting, I can't recommend the movie. It seems like something that just didn't need to be made. It was sad and icky, and it sure as hell wasn't entertaining. Liberace is not at all portrayed in a favorable light; he comes across as little more than a demented old, controlling queen. I can't imagine a fan appreciating this film too much. I could be wrong.<br />
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Anyway, last Sunday Mike took me to see Liberace's mansion at 4982 Shirley St. here in Las Vegas, not far from McCarran Airport. Mike has lived in Las Vegas since 1966 and remembers riding his bike past Liberace's house when he was a kid. He couldn't recall exactly where it was, but with the help of my trust iPhone, we found it.<br />
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According to <a href="http://www.vegasinc.com/news/2013/aug/28/liberace-fan-buys-late-musicians-las-vegas-mansion/" target="_blank">this article</a>, the property was purchased at the end of August for $500,000 by a British fan living in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, in honor of his 50th birthday. In 2006, during the Vegas housing boom, the house sold for $3.7 million (ouch!) and went into foreclosure in 2010. It sits on a corner lot with no land around it and is obviously in a state of disrepair.<br />
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Look beyond the dead tree and imagine Liberace himself, covered in jewels, under the canopied walkway.<br />
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Check out the Ls on the front door.<br />
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The place looks deceptively small, but in fact, it's a two-story structure with almost 15,000 square feet. Interestingly, there are ten bathrooms but only two bedrooms. Lots of room for entertaining, but no place for overnight guests.<br />
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I looked in the windows and took a few pictures of the inside.<br />
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Here's a video I took as we walked around the property.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="260" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/H33WnzktiqU?list=UUM-IQpaC9UIE-yq_Hx1ZUTw" width="420"></iframe><br />
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Sad when you think of how opulent the mansion once was, but it looks like the new owner will restore the house to its former glory. It will be interesting to see what becomes of it.<br />
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Did you see <em>Beyond the Candelabra</em>? What did you think?Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-18646899150770045822013-09-11T20:57:00.000-07:002013-09-11T20:57:22.477-07:00Woo-hoo! I'm Miss September!No, I didn't lose 25 pounds and pose for a Playboy calendar. I wish! Oh, how I wish... But I am on a calendar. Kind of, not really.<br />
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Here's the scoop. Seems that two of my beloved family members got themselves a "12 Months of Dachshunds" calendar last Christmas. Why? I don't know. Even though we had a dog in the house when we were growing up, none of my siblings or kids have animals. We're not animal people. So go figure.<br />
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Anyway, sometime during last Christmas' holiday season, these two beloved family members--undoubtedly aided by some sort of alcoholic inspiration--decided to name each month's featured dachshund after the real-life person the dog resembled. <br />
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Need I say more? <br />
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They named the September dachshund "Linda" because of its beautiful hair. Of course.<br />
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How lucky was I to be at a party in Albany during my featured month so I could pose with my canine look-alike? (To the first person who comments, "I can totally see the resemblance": I will kick your ass.) <br />
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But in real life, I can kind of see it myself... <br />
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Evidently, 2013 was the third year these two beloved family members got themselves a dachshund calendar, but the first where they named the dogs. Actually, I'm kind of honored. And thankful that it wasn't "12 Months of Birds." Now, that would be crossing the line.<br />
Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-52185584802673648832013-09-02T20:35:00.000-07:002013-09-02T20:35:41.530-07:00Does it seem like all I do is travel and go on vacation?I'm on vacation in Albany until next Sunday. So glad to be here! I have a few pictures to share. (Sorry if you've already seen some of these on Facebook.)<br />
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Here I am with my little angel, Hazel.<br />
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It is SO hard to get that kid to look into the camera. I don't know how Courtney ever took this one of her a few weeks ago. And she's <em>smiling</em>!<br />
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Is that not the most perfect picture? That hair! I could eat her up.<br />
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Today there were close to 20 of us at the racetrack in Saratoga. I love the ponies! I didn't cash in one ticket, but who cares? It's such a fun place to hang out.<br />
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Hey, I lightened my hair again. The dark brown was way too harsh. Much better like this!<br />
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No Vegas blue sky here; it was overcast all day. There was a 100% chance of rain, but thankfully we didn't get a drop.<br />
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Here's my son, Christopher, taking Hazel for a little walk. <br />
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My daughter-in-law, Ketti, Chris, and Connor doing some serious handicapping.<br />
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Connor and my nephew Andy--the next generation of bettors.<br />
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Aw.... My boy Connor loves his Granny! <br />
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Hard to believe Connor starts <em>high school</em> on Monday.<br />
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Speaking of high school, yesterday I caught up with my high school boyfriend from 40 freakin' years ago!!! Here we are with my sister Lori.<br />
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Crazy!<br />
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Like I said, it's great to be here with my family. And as you can see, it's <strong><span style="color: #38761d;">green</span></strong> in these parts!<br />
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Hope you all had an enjoyable holiday weekend, too! <br />
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XOXO<br />
Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-61625409682478361232013-08-26T21:08:00.000-07:002013-08-26T22:08:00.536-07:00"It's the most wonderful time of the year..."Yep, today was the first day of school for this kids out here in Las Vegas. Freaky how time flies. If I still lived back East, I'd be bumming about summer coming to an end. Right after Labor Day, the depression would set in and I'd start my "I can't stand the goddamn cold" rant even though the really cold weather wouldn't set in for another couple of months. <br />
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My most enjoyable fall ever was in 2010, the year I spent the summer in Albany. I could enjoy the beautiful fall colors because I knew I'd be coming back to Vegas by early November. My sister Stacie was just up in the Adirondacks last weekend, and posted this picture on Facebook:<br />
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Seems a little early, but I'm kind of psyched because I'm heading back to Albany next weekend and maybe I'll get to see some foliage while I'm there. I'll be in town for a week, and I'm planning on taking Courtney, Hazel, and Connor on some kind of trip--perhaps up north. Any suggestions for a cool and inexpensive mid-week hotel?<br />
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Connor's first day of school is September 9. Schools in the Northeast don't start until after Labor Day, and this year he's really getting a late start because the Jewish high holiday Rosh Hashana starts on Wednesday night, September 4, and lasts until Friday night.<br />
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Are you surprised to hear that the public schools back there get the Jewish holidays off? Just Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. Yep, there's a lot of Jewish people in Albany; I always had a million Jewish friends. And to this day, I'm grateful that we sang "Oh, Hanukkah!" and "The Dreidel Song" at Christmastime and danced the Hora in gym class. Along with the Alley Cat. I bet they don't do that anymore.<br />
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When I was in elementary school, we didn't have the Jewish holidays off; I think that started when we were in junior high. Anyway, I remember one day a Jewish holiday fell on a Wednesday and all the Jewish kids, of course, were out of school for the day. Well, Wednesday was also the day when the Catholic kids left early for religious instruction at the nearby Catholic schools, so for the last hour of school there were only a handful of us Protestant or heathen kids left. Even the teacher was like, "Hmmm... this is weird."<br />
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Speaking of my elementary school days, here's a picture of my fourth grade class. Can you pick out your pal Linda Lou?<br />
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Yep, catching a little shut-eye at the exact moment of the click of the camera. I remember I was MORTIFIED when we got the packets with this picture. Everyone was coming up to saying, "Look! Your eyes are closed!" and I was like, "No duh..." Oh, it took me years to get over that.<br />
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Funny, I still know the names of every single kid in that picture. Of the 28 kids, 10 are Jewish.<br />
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Sadly, two of the kids in this photo have since died. The God's honest truth is, one pushed me in the bushes walking home from school and the other wrote something mean in my yearbook. Coincidence? I'm not saying a word. Maybe my eyes were closed because I was working on a curse.<br />
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OMG. Wow, Linda. Really?<br />
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No, a Girl Scout would never do that...<br />
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Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-76505944165351716982013-08-22T03:30:00.000-07:002013-08-22T03:30:03.061-07:00Gorgeous hair in less than a minute. (Even for me!)Yesterday at work I presented a mini-session for my clients on how to look better, feel better, and project more confidence. This coming from a total <i>Glamour </i>"Don't," right? Mrs. "I Love Tuesdays So I Can Get My 10% Discount at Ross." <br />
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Anyway, as I was doing a little research on the topic, I came across the "virtual makeover" site, <a href="http://www.taaz.com/">www.taaz.com</a>. It's a riot--you upload a photo of yourself and then try on different celebrity hair styles and colors. You can also put makeup on your face, but I just went for the hair. My face is not the problem.<br />
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So I uploaded the picture of me that you see in the right column and decided on the Carly Rae Jepsen style in ash brown. Whaddya think?<br />
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Oh, to have long, thick hair like that! If you think I'm full of myself now... I would just be totally unbearable. No one would want to be friends with me because I'd be all like, "So isn't my hair gorgeous? Oh, but it takes so long to dry!" I hate it when women with beautiful, thick hair give me that line. I race from the shower to the hair dryer and still don't make it in time.<br />
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Then I decided to have a little fun with my husband. I thought the Kelly Rowland look best suited him. (Shhh... he will freakin' KILL me when he sees this.)<br />
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Now, <i>that's</i> a good looking couple!Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-54606613627784484462013-08-18T20:22:00.000-07:002013-08-18T20:22:18.575-07:00More on The Monkees and the importance of sharing your talentsDid you see on Facebook that <a href="http://vegaslindalou.blogspot.com/2013/08/i-got-to-see-monkees-and-im-still.html" target="_blank">my last post</a> about my experience at The Monkees show at Green Valley Ranch was picked up by the <a href="http://The REAL Peter Tork (Official) " target="_blank">REAL Peter Tork (Official) Facebook page</a>? (At this point, you'll have to scroll down the page quite a bit to see my post.) What a thrill! I know that Peter Tork has a social media team, but maybe (?) he took a look at my post himself (?) At any rate, that was pretty cool.<br />
<br />
As a result of that exposure, I heard from Wayne Sander, a guy from Minnesota who Micky Dolenz picked to join them on stage and lead the crowd in singing "Daydream Believer." Wayne's a huge fan of The Monkees; he told me his earliest memories are of wanting to grow up to be Peter Tork. His partner, Dan, scored some front row tickets on eBay for Wayne's birthday.<br />
<br />
Here's how Wayne describes being pulled up on stage. Kind of like Courteney Cox in Springsteen's "Dancing in the Dark" video, except it wasn't a set-up.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div>
"Here's something interesting I found out the night of the show.
When Micky Dolenz is standing on stage and he points his finger
directly at you and says 'I want YOU,' the word 'you' actually echoes in
your head just like it does in the movies (you, you, you, you, you….).
Another thing that happened, is the moment I finished navigating the
coils of power and sound cabling covering the stairs and set my first
foot on the stage, the only thing I could actually hear was my own
heartbeat and the sound of my own breathing. There were no other sounds
until I got to the center of the stage and Micky grabbed my hand. I
remember looking up and seeing the whole audience and it was like being
in the tip of a funnel. I could feel the emotions of everyone and they
were all focused at the stage. I thought my heart was going to explode,
I've never felt anything like it. Micky asked me if I was an Angry
Birds fan and what level I had achieved. I couldn't even remember ever
playing the game. The only word I was able to get out was 'uh.'"</div>
</blockquote>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmuuQVgr7sLaVBqgajO6Uwvmg7ALkohJpLLOO3y_KU9OgazuC5f3pHg7TVLn5_28wMcaYmEH6FCWwlGI0skR0t77WpOp81KJaE0W76URDt5vOWzAC-je5eFPVeiNdyj5K1r7Hl4e5XyJV4/s1600/Wayne+and+The+Monkees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmuuQVgr7sLaVBqgajO6Uwvmg7ALkohJpLLOO3y_KU9OgazuC5f3pHg7TVLn5_28wMcaYmEH6FCWwlGI0skR0t77WpOp81KJaE0W76URDt5vOWzAC-je5eFPVeiNdyj5K1r7Hl4e5XyJV4/s400/Wayne+and+The+Monkees.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Carolyn Regnell</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
Wayne continues:</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div>
"The
next thing he did was put the microphone to his side and ask if I was
ready to do this. He held out his hand for me to hold on to and we
started singing. I don't sing. At least not in public anyway. And
I've never been in front of a crowd larger than about 12 people. I'm
normally a shy quiet person, you know, the type that libraries like to
hire to set the mood. This was the scariest thing I have ever done in
my life, 100x scarier than bungee jumping (which I have tried). But
there's no way that I could have said "no". In fact, it never even
crossed my mind. My voice was already pretty shot from all the cheering
and singing I had been doing during all of the previous songs, but I
gave it everything I had left and just hoped for the best. I kept
looking out at all the people and I wanted to give the best I could. It
was a magical mystical experience and in all that love and support
focused towards me from the audience, I could feel Davy Jones. For a
few moments there were four Monkees on stage (plus me, I'm not a Monkee).
The audience felt it, too. It was incredible. Thinking back on it
still brings tears to my eyes. I think it always will.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"When
the song ended and I turned around, there was Mike Nesmith smiling at
me. I thanked him and he shook my hand. The reality of what had just
happened hit me like a ton of bricks. I had just sung a song with Micky
Dolenz while Peter Tork played keyboards and Mike Nesmith played
guitar. I had just lived a dream that I've had for over 40 years. A
dream that I never in my wildest imagination thought would ever come
true. A couple of stagehands appeared with flashlights to help me
navigate the stairs and I got back to my seat. I asked the people in
the seats next to us if I did okay, and they said I did great. I
thought they were just being nice. I missed most of the next song
because my brain was still trying to process what had just happened. I
came back to reality as they were leaving the stage when the set ended,
and everyone stood up to applaud. I got to hear the encores at least.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"After
the show, dozens of people came up to me or yelled my name from across
the room. I shook a lot of hands and everyone seemed happy with the job
I did. I was just relieved to find out I didn't let anyone down.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"I'm
still trying to digest and fully understand the experience. It was an
incredible honor and I will treasure those moments for the rest of my
life."</div>
</blockquote>
<div>
Pretty cool, huh? Wayne told me he had <span>never sung in public before, and had never even spoken to a crowd larger than about 12 people.</span> While on stage, he took this picture of the audience.</div>
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjE8rjBHi-QDLa9NZXrYrNuu-OCmo7gDO6Iv8PbFXWCuXXu621btzckdSUYS2snz3KP-C7MRI9lYazbbmvAiMC80um5sJkZL6ptEwtNWz2FRemtDjSi9WerRM_8gODVo6KJn8yFDftIrZC/s1600/Wayne's+photo+from+the+stage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjE8rjBHi-QDLa9NZXrYrNuu-OCmo7gDO6Iv8PbFXWCuXXu621btzckdSUYS2snz3KP-C7MRI9lYazbbmvAiMC80um5sJkZL6ptEwtNWz2FRemtDjSi9WerRM_8gODVo6KJn8yFDftIrZC/s400/Wayne's+photo+from+the+stage.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Wayne Sander. Capturing a surreal moment on stage with The Monkees</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
Let's get back to Wayne's words, "<i>I'm
still trying to digest and fully understand the experience. It was an
incredible honor and I will treasure those moments for the rest of my
life</i>." As I mentioned in my last post, my friend Lisa and I were literally screaming with
joy during that concert. So many people who've seen the shows on this
tour left comments on Peter Tork's Facebook with similar sentiments.</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
Awesome, but can you imagine what an incredible honor it must be to be able to GIVE people an experience they'll treasure for the rest of their lives? Wouldn't you just LOVE to be able to do that?</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
You can. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Maybe not on the scale of The Monkees or Bruce Springsteen, but you certainly have it in you to touch another person's life in a way they will remember for the rest of their lives. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
On the simplest level, all The Monkees did last Saturday night was share their talents. Imagine if they hadn't? Imagine if all musicians, artists, computer programmers, nurses, teachers... imagine if they never shared their talents? </div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
I want to repost something I wrote almost 4 years ago, on my 52nd birthday:</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div>
"Over the past several months, I've been doing some editing for Rudy Ruettiger, the man behind the hit movie, <i>Rudy</i>. He lives here in Las Vegas. One of Rudy's favorite lines is, 'What would you do if you knew you could not fail?' </div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
"Most
people don't dig deeply enough within themselves to truly consider and
come up with an answer to this question. But if you really think about
it, you're sure to uncover a true desire. And under that, I'll bet you
anything, lies a true God-given talent. <br />
<br />
"Talent. I believe we've
all been blessed with it. But for any number of reasons, this talent
often gets suppressed. A while back, I heard from a reader who said she
always wanted to write, but gave up that aspiration long ago when a
teacher told her she was no good at it. And I'm telling you, the email
she sent to me was beautifully written. Forgive that stupid teacher and
shake the Etch-a-Sketch, sister. And start writing.<br />
<br />
"Finally, <i>finally</i>, I've come to realize that my God-given talent is my writing (though Mom could have told you that years ago). I'm 52 and <i>finally </i>have
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004M8SVPW?tag=linlouwrihum-20&camp=213381&creative=390973&linkCode=as4&creativeASIN=B004M8SVPW&adid=1ED68GQW1MYS62PZCC62&&ref-refURL=http%3A%2F%2Fvegaslindalou.blogspot.com%2Fsearch%3Fq%3Dtalent" target="_blank"> a book</a> for sale, an outlet for my writing, my humor, and a way to
motivate others to make the most of their own lives by looking at mine.
I've said a million times, 'Everything in its right time' and I do
believe that--the universe unfolds in divine order. But we also have
free will, so why not make "the right time" sooner rather than later?<br />
<br />
"So my birthday wish is for you to take some time today to consider, What is <i>your </i>God-given
talent? What do you do better than almost every person on earth? How
can you share your talent with the rest of the world?
These
are not rhetorical questions. I'm really asking you; I expect answers
(even if you answer in your own head). I want you to tell me what your
talent is because by telling me, you're also proclaiming it to yourself.
<br />
<br />
"Think about what makes you wonderful and have yourself an
incredible day, knowing that in your own unique way, you kick ass. That,
beloved readers, is my birthday wish for you." </div>
</blockquote>
<div>
Please, I can't stress enough: Share your talents. Give a gift that people will treasure for life. Hey, hey, they're The Monkees. And they gave us all a tremendous gift this tour, which just ended this past weekend. More, please!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2PAQ0_QnYN7HwDmVt66K2F5GpxxjotSMBa30vVIApPXkSxmxQ9QF-ZewCKHCeX5QCO6CirVVkAVZtqBikV6CTq33EALWv_QlLHFP0uopLplIaRw-n2tmurXwTlJHiHNH70RcGst545uO7/s1600/Wayne's+photo+from+his+seat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2PAQ0_QnYN7HwDmVt66K2F5GpxxjotSMBa30vVIApPXkSxmxQ9QF-ZewCKHCeX5QCO6CirVVkAVZtqBikV6CTq33EALWv_QlLHFP0uopLplIaRw-n2tmurXwTlJHiHNH70RcGst545uO7/s400/Wayne's+photo+from+his+seat.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Wayne Sander </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-39858096256400468922013-08-11T20:16:00.000-07:002013-08-11T20:16:06.686-07:00I got to see The Monkees and I'm still walking on air!!! I've been a fan of The Monkees since forever. As I wrote in <a href="http://vegaslindalou.blogspot.com/2012/02/sad-leap-day-for-fans-of-monkees.html" target="_blank">this post </a>after Davy Jones died,<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small;">"When I was no more than ten years old, I’d run to the A&P to pick up the latest <i>16</i> <i>Magazine</i>
the day it came out. I’d pore over it in the tiny back bedroom of
the upstairs rented flat we lived in before my parents bought the house
on Lincoln Avenue, gazing lovingly at pictures of Davy, Peter, Mike,
and Micky. Little did I know that would be the beginning of a life of
boy-craziness.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;">"I
listened to my Monkees albums, which I bought with my own money, for
hours on end on my little record player (complete with the penny I’d
place on the needle to prevent skips). I’d read every word of the
liner notes and stare into each photo, imagining what it would be like
to meet them in person. I was sure that if Davy and I knew each other
in real life, the twelve-year age difference between us would be totally
insignificant. I'd be out of high school before he turned thirty. We
would make our relationship work."</span></div>
</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Well, for ages I'd been seeing the advertisements in the paper and the giant sign outside Green Valley Ranch proclaiming the surviving Monkees' concert on Saturday, August 10. Of course, I wanted to go; I just never got around to buying a ticket. So </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">yesterday</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I woke up with two items on my agenda: 1) Take Connor to the airport at 3:30, and 2) Get a ticket to The Monkees.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;">First things first. While my coffee was brewing, I posted this on Facebook:</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrZdV8Q2wV1MrC0tTZz63wbh7jo5_M-oorGZExQMpWhYllL7jq5I4SQqtDT2k6x8rTb91dSeHu4CpIwo_5UXqxxgaXr42oFiIgwBzLKefGeVPWjpYZW0ztTOMo9DY8eTqTWqoOGC5lGmjG/s1600/Monkees+Facebook+post.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="83" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrZdV8Q2wV1MrC0tTZz63wbh7jo5_M-oorGZExQMpWhYllL7jq5I4SQqtDT2k6x8rTb91dSeHu4CpIwo_5UXqxxgaXr42oFiIgwBzLKefGeVPWjpYZW0ztTOMo9DY8eTqTWqoOGC5lGmjG/s400/Monkees+Facebook+post.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;">What the hell, right? Well, my pal <a href="http://www.lisagioiaacres.com/" target="_blank">Lisa Gioia-Acres</a> was able to score tickets for us, and for free! I would have gone no matter what, but there's nothing like free tickets. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Even though I'd known about the show for months, I could have jumped out of my skin at the realization that I would actually be seeing The Monkees. I left my house waaaay early so that if I got pulled over by the Henderson Police or got in an accident on the way, I'd still make it on time. <i>I'd better not have a heart attack or have some goddamn thing happen before the show</i>, I thought. Because that's just the way I think.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> I got to GVR without incident and had a drink with my friend "Thewc Chronicles," an improv performer I know through my comedy circle, while we waited for Lisa to arrive. Well, you think you know somebody until he tells you he's been to 13 shows of The Monkees, 5 solo Davy shows, 3 solo Micky Dolenz shows, and 2 solo Mike Nesmith shows. I was like, "Dude, that should have been the first thing you told me when we first met." He's a great guy, but those stats would have skyrocketed his status immediately!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Lisa scored the $100 tickets in one of the most </span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">expensive sections, and I'm telling you, had we paid 100 bucks apiece, the show would have been totally worth it. When Mike, Peter, and Micky took the stage, we screamed our freakin' lungs out. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWD-KZinGwgKNKVJAhJxADndx3-jDuAVhU4GhA-hoTc8z7UWEadgltmPtbhkg9HgEx-BMGgX2_Ame3HUFwejCMtEiVBtXHzLPy956y8XR7r_Y541JY86A3axabqb2233_I22QWEqw8Ys6F/s1600/Monkees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWD-KZinGwgKNKVJAhJxADndx3-jDuAVhU4GhA-hoTc8z7UWEadgltmPtbhkg9HgEx-BMGgX2_Ame3HUFwejCMtEiVBtXHzLPy956y8XR7r_Y541JY86A3axabqb2233_I22QWEqw8Ys6F/s400/Monkees.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I mean, we were </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">SCREAMING </i><span style="font-family: inherit;">all night. Like abduction screaming, except we were screaming with happiness. The guy in front of us kept having to stick his fingers in his ears.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhMw_2hhX3izpM2Rzs1qwJJVmYqyeR0lswMDHFLjlrf9sVTXcPNHZ9xAv_bv_3_60HnXCsKNCSYE0lZQbz4Qg7zG8Ws6qkc2kbLsVQs-fcv61-80mUMcsezNBcKA63lS2qXqUDebAVP7X/s1600/Linda+Lou+at+The+Monkees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhMw_2hhX3izpM2Rzs1qwJJVmYqyeR0lswMDHFLjlrf9sVTXcPNHZ9xAv_bv_3_60HnXCsKNCSYE0lZQbz4Qg7zG8Ws6qkc2kbLsVQs-fcv61-80mUMcsezNBcKA63lS2qXqUDebAVP7X/s400/Linda+Lou+at+The+Monkees.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> A word about the crowd. I really expected a decrepit bunch of old folks, but that wasn't the case at all. These people were <i>alive</i>, and so into it. And it wasn't all women, either. In fact, I'd say it was 50-50. Mike (husband, not Nesmith) would have gone if we didn't have the kids. (BH and I saw Davy Jones together 10 years ago--he liked The Monkees, too.) And check out this fan:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4SUm-Lo3xAZcZhBIcjEnKJ0d7OMhYY1L3MirIlGeEU2VW9S1TvZ53Upv66Rtmgsq7HUuztKBQbFvNI9slFOYc6ms3mm6hxuVLZ7h6YcQ8pKcRxLgYOzYaoJJ8SIq1V-SFOtsx9FW2guqK/s1600/Monkees+Fan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4SUm-Lo3xAZcZhBIcjEnKJ0d7OMhYY1L3MirIlGeEU2VW9S1TvZ53Upv66Rtmgsq7HUuztKBQbFvNI9slFOYc6ms3mm6hxuVLZ7h6YcQ8pKcRxLgYOzYaoJJ8SIq1V-SFOtsx9FW2guqK/s400/Monkees+Fan.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Anyway, the show was FANTASTIC!!! You might wonder how that could be without Davy, but the guys pulled it off beautifully. Yes, Peter is now 71, Mike is 70, and Micky is a mere 68, but they looked spry, moved well on stage and sounded amazing. At one point, Lisa said, "I could go to every one of their shows," and I was like, "You took the words right out of my brain!" I could totally quit my job and be a Deadhead for The Monkees. Kind of like my friend </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Thewc Chronicles.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Earlier today I was trying to remember the songs they played, and sent a Facebook message to Thewc asking what he could remember. In true Deadhead form, he sent me the entire set list:</span></span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="null">Last Train to Clarksville,
Papa Gene’s Blues,
Your Auntie Grizelda,
The Kind of Girl I Could Love,
She,
Sweet Young Thing,
I’m a Believer,
Steppin' Stone,
You Told Me,
Sunny Girlfriend,
You Just May Be the One,
Mary, Mary,
The Girl I Knew Somewhere (Michael lead vocal),
Early Morning Blues and Greens (Peter lead vocal),
Randy Scouse Git,
For Pete’s Sake,
No Time,
The Door Into Summer,
Words,
Tapioca Tundra,
Goin’ Down,
Porpoise Song,
Can You Dig It,
Circle Sky,
As We Go Along,
Long Title: Do I Have To Do This All Over Again,
Daddy's Song (Video of Davy from <i>Head</i>),
Daydream Believer,
What Am I Doing Hangin' 'Round? </span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="null">Encore:
Listen to the Band,
Pleasant Valley Sunday</span> </span></span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> I was hoping they'd play my favorite Monkees song, "The Door into Summer" and was thrilled to hear it live. Lisa captured a little bit of it on the video that follows. You'll see that the boys sounded really strong, and throughout the whole show there were videos from the old TV show and a few clips from The Monkees' 1968 psychedelic feature length movie, <i>Head</i>. Courtesy of Thewc, you can watch the movie in its entirety <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gVxriDM8h68" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">You may be wondering how they did "Daydream Believer" without Davy. Well, they picked a guy out of the audience to lead the crowd in singing it all together, as you'll see in the video. (Lisa has both songs on this video.) Oh, the emotions! People were wiping tears and hugging strangers. Lisa and I were hugging all night.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Before you play this video, I gotta warn you. </span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lisa did a great job with "The Door into Summer," but </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">you may get seasick toward the end of "Daydream Believer." Who could blame her for swaying with the music? </span></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">It's pretty funny, but I could still cry over Davy.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I've already looked at this a hundred times. I can't get enough. And you'll see I wasn't kidding about the screaming.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I swear to God, this was one of my greatest nights ever. Such JOY!!! <a href="http://www.monkees.net/monkees-announce-2013-full-tour-dates/" target="_blank">This tour</a> is almost over, and I hope The Monkees add more dates. If they come to your town, <b>don't miss them</b>! </span></span></div>
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Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-10249562194322188832013-08-05T04:30:00.000-07:002013-08-05T04:30:02.952-07:00I've been traveling... If you're my Facebook friend, you know I've been on the road again. My grandson, Connor, flew into town a week ago Thursday, on July 25. The next day Mike and I took the kids to Sedona and the Grand Canyon.<br />
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Look how big Connor's gotten! I think he's a little over 6 feet tall now, and he won't be 15 until December.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjITLs3sXP6cwgR18rZJF5_stqTUw_e5o34GVdjFGPbUMAClV4NfcpJQuKQiMHn3Xs-j5HvN0myz40nxLtp4OidlrYC9TQ6mDixu66NhqzCMSrQU_xZ-ersSYJ_ns48nSdH3NwjlctX6f0B/s1600/Me+and+Connor+in+Sedona.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjITLs3sXP6cwgR18rZJF5_stqTUw_e5o34GVdjFGPbUMAClV4NfcpJQuKQiMHn3Xs-j5HvN0myz40nxLtp4OidlrYC9TQ6mDixu66NhqzCMSrQU_xZ-ersSYJ_ns48nSdH3NwjlctX6f0B/s400/Me+and+Connor+in+Sedona.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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Sedona is certainly beautiful, but it pretty much looks the same every time. Still, I feel like I have to take pictures like this one. I swear, I have about 10 photos exactly like this taken over the years. If you've been to Sedona, I bet you have one, too. This was taken from the overlook at the Airport Mesa next to the hotel where we always stay, <a href="http://www.skyranchlodge.com/?scid=2885920&cid=1377259&tc=13080421043446585&rl_key=9ebd74378c12f88e1076fa79979f9693&kw=12545047&pub_cr_id=31438805854&dynamic_proxy=1&primary_serv=www.skyranchlodge.com&rl_track_landing_pages=1" target="_blank">Sky Ranch Lodge</a>. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjATv2KWa6f905YWqCVF2CtxwOcbGZ7cniOzw0QR3TA_YHc-tc7KcFiEeFQjc4TttaP1vtxUnNjWvmGk9zhTUZo9UULe78q-AH7moJHnwVgudFzaXLedOiQTOFBcl-aKScMMuxiClVFA45I/s1600/Same+old+pic+of+Sedona.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjATv2KWa6f905YWqCVF2CtxwOcbGZ7cniOzw0QR3TA_YHc-tc7KcFiEeFQjc4TttaP1vtxUnNjWvmGk9zhTUZo9UULe78q-AH7moJHnwVgudFzaXLedOiQTOFBcl-aKScMMuxiClVFA45I/s400/Same+old+pic+of+Sedona.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I've stayed there at least 10 times, but I think it's going downhill a bit. The beds are crappy and the sheets kept pulling off the mattress. I told Mike I think that next time we should try someplace new. Any suggestions?<br />
<br />
Mike took this photo while we were hiking up Bell Rock. I think I have another one almost exactly like this one, too. Except I'm probably fatter now.<br />
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On the way home, we stopped at the Grand Canyon. Here's another one of my boy.<br />
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I posted this one on Facebook. The background looks totally fake.<br />
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I don't know about you, but I think the Grand Canyon is... yeah, it's the Grand Canyon and all, but... when it comes to scenic beauty, I think it's a little anticlimactic after you've been in Sedona. What do you think? <br />
<br />
Okay, so the day after we got home from our trip, Mom and Stepdaddy came to town. Last Wednesday was Mom's 79th birthday, and guess what she had tickets for?<br />
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Yep, as luck would have it, Wheel of Fortune was taping in the Sands Expo Center next to the Venetian. Mom got four tickets, so Connor and I went, too. We saw two shows and they won't be televised until January 2 and 3 of next year, so everything was all "Happy New Year!" Very fun.<br />
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Here's Mom at dinner before the taping. She's looking pretty damn good for 79, don't you think? We tease her that she's so well preserved because she got a lot of rest and never went outside during the agoraphobia years.<br />
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So Mom and Jim left Vegas on Friday, the same day Connor and I took off for Los Angeles. It's tradition that when he comes to town, we take a trip with Mike and his kids, and then when the kids are at their mother's, Connor and I take another trip. This year he wanted to go to L.A.<br />
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Holy crap, I am out of shape. Hiking up to the Hollywood sign kicked my ass.<br />
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You can see my hair is darker. Total mistake. I took my coloring into my own hands and it came out way too dark. It doesn't look too bad in this photo, but in real life, it looks like shiiiiiiiittt. Having a few extra pounds and crappier hair than usual at the same time is seriously enough to make me mental.<br />
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Anyway, Connor and I had a great time driving around the Hollywood Hills and Beverly Hills and cruising Sunset Boulevard. (Anyone will tell you I am a shitty driver, so you can imagine me driving in L.A. traffic, right?) We also did the Paramount Studios tour, which was very good. Totally worth the money. <br />
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Late Saturday afternoon, we were trying to decide what to do and I was like, "Hey, you want to drive down to the beach?" I was thinking either Venice Beach or Malibu, but at that point he'd probably had enough of my driving and so we just went to Starbucks on Sunset and the Ross store across the street, where I bought him a red tie he liked (!). <br />
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After that we headed back to Burbank, where we were staying. A word about Burbank: I love it! There's no traffic and the downtown is cool as hell. I don't have the blood pressure for L.A. traffic, but I think I could totally live and work in Burbank. <br />
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Anyway, after dinner we went back to our room at the <a href="http://www.portofinoburbank.com/" target="_blank">Portofino Inn</a> (highly recommend--clean and great value), and I saw the news that some nut plowed into 12 people on the boardwalk on Venice Beach around 6:00 that night, killing one woman who was there on her honeymoon. Absolutely tragic. Imagine if Connor had wanted to go to the beach? We probably would have ended up there.<br />
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That happened right in front of the Cadillac Hotel, where my sister Lori and I stayed last June when we met up with our long-lost cousin. The guy parked on this street in the foreground, got out of the car and looked around a couple of times, and then plowed down the boardwalk. <br />
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They say he did it intentionally. WTF? to the tenth power. I just can't imagine.<br />
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We left Burbank yesterday morning around 11:30 and made great time coming back to Vegas, until just past Barstow, where we got caught in traffic for 3 hours because of an accident on I-15. But as luck would have it, even though we were out in the middle of nowhere, we had 3G access. And Hulu Plus, so we had ourselves a little <i>Family Guy</i> marathon, right there in the Mojave Desert.<br />
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Connor loves comedy, and we took a little break in our marathon so I could share some joke writing techniques I learned in a recent comedy writing workshop I'd taken with <a href="http://www.standupcomedyclinic.com/about-jerry-corley/" target="_blank">Jerry Corley</a>. Then we watched some more, and I pointed out some of the techniques the <i>Family Guy</i> writers used. We also used the techniques and wrote some material ourselves about Jewish bikers. Because that's what grandmothers do. <br />
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Yep, I've been busy.Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-24883544179262301642013-07-25T00:49:00.000-07:002013-07-25T00:49:31.517-07:00The Bubble Girl responds!I got a lot of thought-provoking comments on my last post, <a href="http://vegaslindalou.blogspot.com/2013/07/its-not-easy-being-clean.html" target="_blank">It's not easy being clean</a>, that I simply must respond to. Here goes:<br />
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*****</div>
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<i>Spero Alexio says: </i> "How about if someone gives you a dirty look?" <br />-- I figure surely it was meant for someone in my general direction, not me.<br />
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<i>SA continues:</i> "How about having a boyfriend who won't clean up his act?" <br />-- Been there, done that. They're long gone. See my response to DuggleBogey below.<br />
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<i>Ray Denzel says: </i>"hmm, loons in a cute way!" <br />
-- Ray, cute is what I'm all about. You should see my shoe collection. <br />
<i> </i><br />
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<i>Angela Perry says: "</i>I go into a meltdown when people put bread directly on the counter to
make a sandwich. You and Neil are not loons, you are the norm. :)"<br />
-- Angela, I can only wish we were the norm. Unfortunately, we are rare <strike>birds </strike>people. Keep smiling!<br />
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<i> </i><br />
<i>Dawn says: </i>"When ever the grandkids come over and bring there ipads, I promptly wipe
them down because, I can't stand the millions of finger prints all
over."<br />
-- If I were queen, Dawn, every kid would be wiped down several times a day; they're walking balls of germs that leave fingerprints on everything. Wait, were you talking about the iPads? <br />
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<i>Mike Dennis says:</i> "Funny post, Linda. Especially the part about the hand towel vs dish towel."<br />
-- Um, that post was totally serious. What the hell is so funny about wiping slimy old bacon grease from your hands and then using the same towel to dry a pan that you just cooked bacon in?.<br />
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<i>MD continues: </i> "Given the fact that you take great care to avoid germs on hand towels,
napkins, food counters, etc, and that most people (myself included) do
not take anywhere near that degree of care, why are the rest of us not
paying any real consequences? In other words, we're all presumably risking our health by these
less-than-sanitary practices, and yet we live to tell about it. Why is
that?"<br />
-- Well, Mike, you're about my age, and I can tell you right now that in 50 years you, in fact, will be dead. Yup, it will all catch up with you. Who's gonna be wishing he hadn't dried the dishes with a hand towel then? Huh?<br />
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<i>Tara Crowley says:</i> "The things that I adhere to are: bathroom sponges are for bathroom ONLY,
dish towels are for dishes ONLY ,and...I think that's it. I even share
lip balm (yuck)."<br />
-- I was with you until the lip balm. God help you.<br />
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<i>Meliss says</i>: "i'm sort of the opposite of a germaphobe. i think all the germs build
immunities. not that i invite them, but i just don't really pay
attention. bread and cookies on counters and tables don't bother me." <br />
-- Meliss, I beg of you, get some help. And P.S try using the Shift key once in a while. <br />
<br />
<i>Meliss continues:</i> "i am grossed out, however, when people blow their noses and put the
tissue on the table. or take food out of their mouths and put it on
their plates. olive pits aren't a fave either."<br />
-- maybe there's hope for you after all...<br />
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<i>Julie says:</i> "I don't even think about half that stuff. I unwrap my silverware and
set it down on the table, I admit it. It has never dawned on me to
worry that someone who cooked a potluck dish in their own kitchen may
have petted their dog."<br />
-- I love you, but if you invite me to your house, I guarantee I'll stop at a drive-thru on the way over. Because I'm sure that anyone working in the kitchen at McDonald's got that job because they passed a comprehensive hygiene test.<br />
<br />
<i>Julie continues:</i> "Don't you worry about whether the guy in the back room has sneezed over
your food? Or picked his nose and then handled your burger? Eating out
isn't all that different than a potluck!"<br />
-- See my response above.<br />
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<i>Coach says</i>: " :) "<br />
-- I could say, WTF is that supposed to mean? But I'll take it that you're smiling because finally somebody said something that made an iota of sense. Finally someone is standing up for germaphobes everywhere shouting, "We're mad as hell and we're not going to take it anymore! The next time you put your silverware right on the filthy table that was just wiped down with the disgusting all-purpose rag, don't be surprised if we stand up and knock your filthy friggin' table over all dramatically like we're in last scene in an episode of <i>Guiding Light</i>." That's what you meant, right, Coach?<br />
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<i>Mimi says: </i>"'creating our sterile eating field'...yup, that's me too and I thought I was the only one in the world!"<br />
-- Thankfully, Mimi, there's at least three of us. <br />
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<i>DuggleBogey says:</i> "Did the guy who ate the cookie live to tell the tale? If so, you have your answer..."<br />
-- Yes, my old boyfriend who placed a cookie on a filthy patio table that birds walk all over did, in fact, live to tell the tale. And he tells it often. And he's Irish, so every time he tells it, it gets a little more colorful. But guess what? He also had to have his hip replaced. Who's the one who had to spend a two days in the hospital? Huh? Not me! Draw your own conclusions, DuggleBogey.<br />
Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-16134259159282278072013-07-22T00:06:00.001-07:002013-07-24T23:12:27.014-07:00It's not easy being cleanMy friend Neil was one of the first people I met when I moved to Las Vegas 10 years ago. Both of us had forced ourselves to go to a stupid networking event on the Strip; I was hoping to make some contacts that would eventually lead to a job (oh, what a terrible time I had finding a job here) and Neil had been dragged there by a friend. In my book I describe how our eyes met as we "winced in unison as a man rifled through a bowl of mixed nuts right after he coughed in his hand, and then the two of us talked for twenty minutes about how we'd rather starve than eat bar nuts left open to mass contamination." Neil and I are both germaphobes and I'm the first to admit we're as nutty as the day is long.<br />
<br />
Neil moved up to Portland, Oregon, several years ago but was in town last week so we got together for lunch at Sean Patrick's Irish Pub on West Flamingo, which immediately earned our seal of approval. "Look at this, Linda," Neil said, pleased to see the utensils wrapped in a napkin and then placed on a second napkin. "We can unwrap our knives and forks and then safely put them on the other napkin."<br />
<br />
I nodded. "How about those people who put their silverware right on the table?" <br />
<br />
"The table that's just been gone over with the 'all-purpose rag...'" he added. We both shuddered.<br />
<br />
Although the restaurant had done a great job creating our sterile eating field, Neil asked the waitress for a few more napkins, which he used to pick up the ketchup for his potatoes, totally a la <i>What About Bob?</i><br />
<br />
Neil and I hadn't seen each other in ages and had a ton of catching up to do. And by "catching up," I mean we had a full agenda, sharing our pet peeves (for the umpteenth time in our 10-year friendship) and every single unsanitary practice we'd witnessed since we last got together.<br />
<br />
<i>The other day I went through the drive-through at Jack-in-the-Box and the guy was really nice, but when he gave me my food, the nail on his pinky finger was really long. Like he was growing it out. It was disgusting. The only way I could eat my food was to think that he never touched it. Only the people in the back. People who had just washed their hands...</i><br />
<br />
<i>"Pot luck." Are there any words more horrifying? I can't eat from just anybody's kitchen. What if they have cats that walk around their kitchen counters? What if they have a dog and pet it and then touch the food they're making? No, if I have to go to a pot luck, I eat only what I brought. Or something that I'm sure is from a store... </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>How about people who blow their nose in their napkin and then put it right on the table? Or even on their plate, so now the waitress has to deal with that...</i><br />
<br />
<i>How about people who make a sandwich and place the bread right on the counter? Not on a plate, not on a cutting board, not on a napkin or paper towel... </i><br />
<br />
"I once saw someone put a cookie down right on the table," Neil said, "and then eat it." <br />
<br />
I one upped him. "That's nothing, I once <i>dated </i>a guy who put a cookie on an outside patio table and then eat it. An outside patio table that birds could walk on. I saw with my own eyes. Needless to say, we didn't last." <br />
<br />
Then I told Neil how I periodically catch Mike drying a pan with a hand towel. "A <i>hand </i>towel! It's like he doesn't even know there's a difference between a hand towel and a dish towel. You can't dry dishes with a hand towel that everyone's been wiping their hands on."<br />
<br />
Neil shook his head. "That's grounds for divorce." <br />
<br />
Oh, we went on and on. And then yesterday I got an email from Neil telling me he was at a celebration where the birthday girl kept licking her fingers as she cut the cake, contaminating the adjoining pieces. "Linda, we were sitting right in front of the serving table and this was
happening blatantly right up in my face to the point that I had to get
up, go away and watch from afar," he wrote.<br />
<br />
Yep, birthday parties can be a nightmare, especially the whole blowing out the candles bit. I was brought up right. On her birthday, my grandmother would extinguish
the candles by waving a paper plate over the cake, a practice adopted
by my entire family. Yes, you can come to a birthday of anyone in my family and not have to worry about drops of saliva in the
frosting. I try to get other people to do the same when it's their
birthday; some will humor me. Others won't. And that is when I pass on
the cake.<br />
<br />
I should say that my grandmother used to keep her vacuum cleaner in a plastic bag so it wouldn't get dirty. She was my hero. <br />
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What do you think? Are Neil and I loons or what? Are you a germ freak, too? <br />
<br />Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-2490852811157813402013-07-19T07:34:00.002-07:002013-07-19T07:34:26.056-07:00FREE download this weekend!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuC-y7ONUGY4CsxIgFqynW0yx5-S2NBu6_BJK5ZQ00CO5FsqPbntTe65Wz7jmzzbud9_wlGuZBrPqUfPOzZu0nmErSXWUEW2n787zmJ_gBHGNtjeAAufOWpnd8Ah2NLupcD14qQH52nKzU/s1600/Book+wine+and+beer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuC-y7ONUGY4CsxIgFqynW0yx5-S2NBu6_BJK5ZQ00CO5FsqPbntTe65Wz7jmzzbud9_wlGuZBrPqUfPOzZu0nmErSXWUEW2n787zmJ_gBHGNtjeAAufOWpnd8Ah2NLupcD14qQH52nKzU/s400/Book+wine+and+beer.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I'll be back with a proper post later, but in the meantime go download my book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004M8SVPW?tag=linlouwrihum-20&camp=213381&creative=390973&linkCode=as4&creativeASIN=B004M8SVPW&adid=0E1VE4WWA4JR59K3EBY4&" target="_blank">Bastard Husband: A Love Story</a>, for FREE! The promotion starts today and runs through Sunday. These promos always translate to real sales for me, so don't feel bad about getting it for free. And if you haven't read it yet, what the hell are you waiting for? It's brilliant! Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-13033906128911622482013-07-15T20:06:00.000-07:002013-07-15T20:06:00.437-07:00What am I missing? Sorry if you already saw this on my Facebook post yesterday. This is a real live ad that was in the Kohl's flyer in yesterday's newspaper. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkSYFjS-XdxlxYUUV8Y08k9eH-c2H-opM1sHJQYh-PkpH58ByNCLZsooafUMBSnu-LdT4daWNwrNkhFQLy9IQP54T6k0e-RGGscHKKL2emYx6MiNTF8rw88iHrk1SA6yeV0GvXPsLgsocm/s1600/Mustache+shirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkSYFjS-XdxlxYUUV8Y08k9eH-c2H-opM1sHJQYh-PkpH58ByNCLZsooafUMBSnu-LdT4daWNwrNkhFQLy9IQP54T6k0e-RGGscHKKL2emYx6MiNTF8rw88iHrk1SA6yeV0GvXPsLgsocm/s400/Mustache+shirt.jpg" width="281" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Warning, kids: Never accept mustache rides from strangers.</td></tr>
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I live with an 8-year-old girl half the time and I swear she's never once asked for a T-shirt proclaiming her love for mustaches. Yet, when I showed her the Kohl's ad, she laughed and said, "That's so cool!"<br />
<br />
<i>HUH</i>?<br />
<br />
I have a feeling that in 50 years when she's post-menopausal, she's not gonna be loving mustaches too much...Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-80425374414064504822013-07-13T11:56:00.000-07:002013-07-13T11:56:12.713-07:00All work and no play is making me dull as hellI hate, hate, <i>hate </i>that I haven't posted in over a week. I can see on my Statcounter app that you're all still checking in, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate that. The truth is, I've had no time to post and I'm not doing anything interesting enough to write about. <br />
<br />
Well, that's not quite true. I have a couple of posts in my head that I've love to share, but there are just some things you can't put in writing for all the world to see without it someday coming back to bite you in the ass. But I can say that Mike and I saw two shows this week; one was fun as hell and the other was just... awful.<br />
<br />
The good one I can talk about. Wednesday night we saw The Rising, a Bruce Springsteen tribute band, at the House of Blues in Mandalay Bay. You know me and tribute bands. Maybe you think they're queer and goofy, but unless I'm actually at a Springsteen show, where else am I gonna hear "Thunder Road" live? It was so much fun. At one time I caught myself literally jumping for joy. I wish I had taken a picture of the cute outfit I wore that night--my sexy biker jeans that are cut peek-a-boo style down the side with an authentic black and white tie-dye T-shirt. From Kohl's. I could have posted that photo on Facebook and even those of you in friggin' Edmonton and Maple Ridge up in Canada could have heard my kids' groans of embarrassment. Yes, jumping for joy in that outfit. Too bad you missed it.<br />
<br />
For reasons of diplomacy--which has never been my strong suit--I can't really go into the other show we saw. Look, I'm the first to admit that no one knocks it out of the park every night, but this was a seasoned performer who should have had, um, an act. It was like he was thinking, "I'm so well-known and beloved that just being in the same room as me, enjoying my presence in the flesh, should be entertainment enough. Therefore, I'm going to deliver a rambling stream of consciousness while you sink along with me in the realization that you've just wasted two hours of your life you can never get back." Enough said.<br />
<br />
What else have I been up to? Not a whole lot. Just working my ass off, but I can't complain--I love my job and every one of my clients. I've also been working on another book that will be called something like <i>Love Your Stinkin' Job... or Find Another One</i>. I don't have a real title yet. It will be a humorous guide to framing your current job in a way that will make you happy or getting the hell out and finding a job that you <i>will </i>be happy in. I see it as a blend of funny, work-related anecdotes and other crap from my brain as well as practical advice on topics related to the workplace and conducting a job search. It's gonna be cool.<br />
<br />
Also, I've been putting together a "leading with laughter" type of workshop and another one that uses humor as a way to build teams. "Leading with laughter" is a phrase that's already overused and there are a bunch of other companies out there offering that type of program, but not like what I have in mind. I went to a session once with a "humor expert" who just dissected the hell out of humor to the point where nothing was funny anymore. Believe me, my program will be fun and funny.<br />
<br />
So that's what I've been up to. Couldn't be more boring, right?Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-82854285323340848392013-07-04T00:00:00.000-07:002013-07-04T09:59:51.571-07:00Giving thanks on the Fourth of JulyThe deaths of the 19 firefighters killed while battling the Yarnell wildfires outside of Prescott, Arizona, have left us all with a heavy heart. Of these 19 heroes, 14 of them were in their 20s.<br />
<br />
I can't help but think of my 19-year-old nephew, Cameron, my sister Lori's son. He's following in his father's footsteps; my brother-in-law Russ has been a volunteer fireman for many years now and is the assistant chief in his district. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG4Fqs0kjR1eT_TJ6UAfTR9zhrslBN96bcVxyplS_gNAIDWMMuHJImyVE-R2MB0yUPrSCJID0GZ4XEGcce-FYvNNT6PI3OMHyxh3n-AoTzMlIdA94XjjT-7IcdLQTaw5W-ATdWlTK3bdGe/s813/Cam+and+Russ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG4Fqs0kjR1eT_TJ6UAfTR9zhrslBN96bcVxyplS_gNAIDWMMuHJImyVE-R2MB0yUPrSCJID0GZ4XEGcce-FYvNNT6PI3OMHyxh3n-AoTzMlIdA94XjjT-7IcdLQTaw5W-ATdWlTK3bdGe/s400/Cam+and+Russ.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span class="userContent">Cameron belongs a neighboring district that allowed him to join a year earlier, when he was only 15, though he provides assistance in his father's district as well. When Cam turned 18, he was so happy to finally be </span><span class="userContent"><span class="userContent"><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"type":45}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">interior qualified, meaning he was able to do fire attack from inside burning buildings. </span></span></span>He's now a lieutenant.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTjLgfTVoJAzcrQky5z8cYp4j0_cRVYd_CYI0m6o5l_KP-Nc_o0BDQkOizi4KNUhMrvQUhTlSR03ukK90t51-8Ojq1Eu27hO8x3VeDTANE2ZdvN6ZUWRyB-BP5VizVAfUmA6aB5sL3shyphenhyphena/s814/Cameron+in+parade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTjLgfTVoJAzcrQky5z8cYp4j0_cRVYd_CYI0m6o5l_KP-Nc_o0BDQkOizi4KNUhMrvQUhTlSR03ukK90t51-8Ojq1Eu27hO8x3VeDTANE2ZdvN6ZUWRyB-BP5VizVAfUmA6aB5sL3shyphenhyphena/s400/Cameron+in+parade.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span class="userContent">Here is with upon his return from Long Beach, NY, after a 72-hour tour to help out with hurricane relief downstate.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY3W7ad9_ueZgYlVOQECm9UWqghQclj7LJVZF4Hfp74Um0LvyQu2Ivd29YwOXmA2Wbrrj4AB4n9aI2xFcKSyFFbwlMbCd4ZLBvIGoZz4j47rkjH7ZtGXlHStvJ2fAVz_VVvLqgW4IVohik/s618/Cameron+Becker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY3W7ad9_ueZgYlVOQECm9UWqghQclj7LJVZF4Hfp74Um0LvyQu2Ivd29YwOXmA2Wbrrj4AB4n9aI2xFcKSyFFbwlMbCd4ZLBvIGoZz4j47rkjH7ZtGXlHStvJ2fAVz_VVvLqgW4IVohik/s400/Cameron+Becker.jpg" width="371" /></a></div>
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<span class="userContent">Every time I go back to Albany, I stay at Lori and Russ' house. At least a couple of times during my visit, I'll hear the sirens go off in the middle of the night. While my sleep will be disrupted for just a moment, Russ, Cameron, or both of them will spring from their warm beds and head to the firehouse--regardless of how cold and snowy or rainy it is--and sometimes they'll be out for hours at a time. And then they'll go to work or school the next day on half a night's sleep.</span><br />
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<span class="userContent">Look at this kid's face. </span><br />
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<span class="userContent">Nineteen men--most of whom were just a few years older than Cameron--lost their lives this week protecting the lives and property of others. These are </span><span class="userContent"><span class="userContent">true heroes</span>, serving the public along with teachers, nurses, policemen (yes, even the bloody ticket-happy Henderson police), aides in the nursing homes, workers in group homes for disabled people and court-placed youth, our soldiers, and other service-oriented professions. And let's not forget every volunteer on earth. </span><br />
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<span class="userContent">I know it's the Fourth of July, but today I give thanks.</span><br />
<span class="userContent"><br /></span>
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<span class="userContent"></span>Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-71661565413146300042013-06-27T03:00:00.000-07:002013-06-27T03:00:12.684-07:00Confirmed: Craziness runs in our familyIs it Thursday already? I haven't yet told you about my incredible weekend and now it's almost time for another one? Where does the time go?<br />
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Oh, last weekend was so much FUN! My sister Lori flew into town last Thursday night and then Friday afternoon we hit the road for LA to meet up with our second cousin Laurie and her 26-year-old daughter, Melissa. Our dad and Laurie's mother were first cousins. When we were kids, Lori and I used to see Laurie and her siblings a couple of times each summer at our grandmothers' family camp at Reichard's Lake, outside of Albany, NY. We hadn't seen each other since we were teenagers in the early 1970s and reconnected a couple of years ago when Laurie found us on Facebook.<br />
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Laurie married a Kiwi and has been living in New Zealand for about 7 years now. A couple of years ago, she became a flight attendant with Air New Zealand so she gets to fly for super cheap. After she booked this trip to the States to see her kids, we made it a point for us to all get together. Lori booked her flight from Albany and I booked us a couple of rooms at <a href="http://www.thecadillachotel.com/" target="_blank">The Cadillac Hotel</a> on Venice Beach.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaS_DqD2kWqBV6q_wIpqPEHhUf-SCWfSTuvEneHRksWzx0sNm0zNnS9Zf5Q1Nnv7LbG4zG9ibPOQzRkZubYOC8V4aOqLJW1gn-knSrz8dUdvvyCeRoUtx85vJRkodMUJUU6vaaSICbwZ33/s1600/Cadillac+Hotel+outside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaS_DqD2kWqBV6q_wIpqPEHhUf-SCWfSTuvEneHRksWzx0sNm0zNnS9Zf5Q1Nnv7LbG4zG9ibPOQzRkZubYOC8V4aOqLJW1gn-knSrz8dUdvvyCeRoUtx85vJRkodMUJUU6vaaSICbwZ33/s400/Cadillac+Hotel+outside.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charlie Chapman once spent the summer here.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the rooftop</td></tr>
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Now, when you're seeing someone for the first time in about 40 years, you can't really know what to expect. Laurie was AWESOME! Funny as hell and totally nuts. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicoysgiYQzAiE_pu-uVfYNX4m4GvEHMec5XN5bYTbYXTV67zKQnX4DgtEflm4EiV2e3-jXp-t434v2MHPJ2SJ6UfpkIQ7ZWin1Lqv8THiJKIaoLsLirIbm-KTi5Uinizby8dBenoESMAG8/s1600/Melissa+and+Laurie+on+the+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicoysgiYQzAiE_pu-uVfYNX4m4GvEHMec5XN5bYTbYXTV67zKQnX4DgtEflm4EiV2e3-jXp-t434v2MHPJ2SJ6UfpkIQ7ZWin1Lqv8THiJKIaoLsLirIbm-KTi5Uinizby8dBenoESMAG8/s400/Melissa+and+Laurie+on+the+beach.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Melissa and Laurie</td></tr>
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<br />
And as for Melissa, the acorn doesn't fall far from the tree. That kid is hilarious. She told us how she went to the bank to open an account wearing a costume (I think it was a superhero costume) just to see people's reactions and <i>no one said a word</i>. She likes to sew and made the dress she wore to her brother's wedding out of a shower curtain from Target. Plus she told us this joke:<br />
<br />
Q. What's worse than finding a worm in your apple?<br />
A. The Holocaust.<br />
<br />
Oh, she is a sick one, and in the greatest way possible. I adore her.<br />
<br />
Here's a pic of Lori and Laurie and me.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmMpOVVByKPaOJURkgS3-0JiWwwqxQJUusdZ3R_mTxVXKKqCXLrU8ngT5Tdjge00g58HaLKx-lke0NI0axgxBBPqealzStUz4OQBlB7uRlDbkKYkEHQ09pyHT-UDhnaeJwDY8Y72_Xt2n1/s1600/Lori+Laurie+and+Linda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmMpOVVByKPaOJURkgS3-0JiWwwqxQJUusdZ3R_mTxVXKKqCXLrU8ngT5Tdjge00g58HaLKx-lke0NI0axgxBBPqealzStUz4OQBlB7uRlDbkKYkEHQ09pyHT-UDhnaeJwDY8Y72_Xt2n1/s400/Lori+Laurie+and+Linda.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cousins!</td></tr>
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<br />
As you can no doubt tell, my cousin Laurie has the most incredible rack. That was the first thing I wanted to say when I first saw her, but I thought I'd better be polite so I waited like 10 minutes and then said, "You have the most incredible rack!" It's true--she does!<br />
<br />
Laurie is truly a fascinating person. She grew up in a 7-bedroom house and they had a maid. A <i>maid</i>! But don't hate her--her family was as dysfunctional as the next one and Laurie is the most unpretentious person on earth. <br />
<br />
Laurie traveled and lived all over the world with her first husband and kids, and they even lived in Kuwait for a while. A few years after they were divorced, she met her Kiwi husband online and a few months later flew off to New Zealand to meet him. "Fortunately, my dad had just died and left me some money," she deadpanned. Soon after her return, she told Husband #1, "You'd better reconnect with the kids; I'm moving to New Zealand!" and she's been there ever since. <br />
<br />
Oh, and on Saturday she told us that in college she spent some time in Eastern Europe on a music tour and one of her roommates was Sheryl Crow. They even recorded an album. My sister Lori was like, "Really? You were roommates with Sheryl Crow and you're just now telling us? On Day 2? I totally would have led with that."<br />
<br />
It was so wonderful to laugh at our lives and our families and reminisce about all our mutual dead relatives. And it was surprising how much we had in common. <br />
<ul>
<li>We both grew up with parents screaming their heads off at each other, and I think Laurie's parents got along even worse than ours. When Laurie's father died, there was a downpour when they all arrived at the
cemetery. Not wanting to go out into the elements, her mother barked,
"Let's just go to Olive Garden!" and that was the end of that period of
mourning.</li>
<li>We both married Kiwis. (She's already had a much higher success rate than I did.)</li>
<li>Our whole families LOVE Pee Wee Herman and can recite practically the entire dialogue from <i>Pee Wee's Big Adventure</i>. "It's like you're unraveling a cable knit sweater that someone keeps knitting, and knitting, and knitting..."</li>
<li>We're not animal people. We're still lovely people; we just don't connect with the animal world and sure as hell don't want them sniffing or breathing on us. I told Laurie I have a rule: Any animal that wants to sniff my crotch has to buy me dinner first. </li>
<li>We love Ross Dress-for-Less and spent God knows how much time in the one in LA across from The Grove.</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsqPQfOQNOWozuqKr3SfZmDfP9KefKvOtN5kdkCXN_UestNaxmsoVo4FNBCHYMA9kpndR0XBJ0EvTWJ4njLwNtU8gVvzyH9wJuNj9zM_SYUXiej9vkxvW1eQM2ZdF-t0808TEoF2tXXGum/s1600/Ross.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsqPQfOQNOWozuqKr3SfZmDfP9KefKvOtN5kdkCXN_UestNaxmsoVo4FNBCHYMA9kpndR0XBJ0EvTWJ4njLwNtU8gVvzyH9wJuNj9zM_SYUXiej9vkxvW1eQM2ZdF-t0808TEoF2tXXGum/s400/Ross.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lori and I hit two more of these on the way back to Vegas</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
What a fantastic weekend. And to think we all came together through Facebook. Say what you will about it, but this little segment of our family is pretty damn grateful. I have lots more to share about our time in LA. Next post!Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-66336326352937088512013-06-20T10:51:00.000-07:002013-06-20T10:51:57.742-07:00Loud talkers at the movies -- I don't care WHO you are!I'm practically famous for my intolerance of bad manners in movie theaters (see <a href="http://vegaslindalou.blogspot.com/2010/06/pet-peeve-437-loud-talkers-at-movies.html" target="_blank">Pet peeve #437: LOUD talkers at the movies</a>). Well, it seems I'm not the only one, and the practice of people acting in public like they're being entertained from their sofa is not limited to movie houses. The <em>New York Observer</em> recently reported that "Broadway audiences are behaving badly, and someone is going to get hurt."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgelsNvPmWf0I9hxTpNW6qn36hIUuKPLNfdcEhK-RNbsd01sy5msE5yQnnEPK_FASXZfWUIqkojmZqfetY7PXAZlU6U7cRofx6cpW11j7f_IJ2rkstVBo0uG9KdfPx4WbJ4e5lWwOuIBa3z/s1600/Observer+audiences.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgelsNvPmWf0I9hxTpNW6qn36hIUuKPLNfdcEhK-RNbsd01sy5msE5yQnnEPK_FASXZfWUIqkojmZqfetY7PXAZlU6U7cRofx6cpW11j7f_IJ2rkstVBo0uG9KdfPx4WbJ4e5lWwOuIBa3z/s400/Observer+audiences.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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According to <a href="http://observer.com/2013/05/stage-combat-modern-theatergoers-turn-broadway-into-great-fight-way/" target="_blank">this article</a>, <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The fight broke out during the first act of <i>Glengarry Glen Ross</i>.<br />
<br />
As Al Pacino and Bobby Cannavale circled each other on the boards, a
well-dressed woman in the audience was noisily working her way through a
cellophane package of Twizzlers. When a man in the next seat shushed
her, the woman’s thuggish husband loudly intervened.<br />
<br />
The exchange became more heated until the husband—who could have passed for a second-tier personal injury attorney from <i>Planet of the Apes</i>—challenged
his adversary to “take it outside.” The pace may have been a little
slow on stage, but those of us in the mezzanine were riveted by the
imminent possibility of actual violence.</blockquote>
Take it outside over a noisy package of Twizzlers? Hmmm... fair enough. I go bonkers if my film experience is interrupted during a $7.50 matinee; imagine if I paid $150 for a theater ticket?<br />
<br />
Evidently these confrontations are on the rise. (And I have to ask, who in their right mind would want to piss off a New York audience?) The article goes on to say that theater goers' "sense of entitlement, and the pushback it provokes from touchy fellow
audience members, has resulted in an increasing number of aggressive
confrontations, which have now joined more commonplace theater
annoyances like texting or a ringing cell phone."<br />
<br />
Grrrr.... Reminds me a scene from Bobcat Goldthwait's <i>God Bless America</i>, where the protagonist goes ballistic on the rude audience members. If you haven't yet seen it, I don't know what you're waiting for. <br />
<br />
A few weeks ago I was at an AARP conference (if I had a dime for every time I started a sentence with that...) and saw a pre-release screening of <em>The Internship</em>, the new comedy with Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson. I thought it was really cute. <br />
<br />
Anyway, I got there early (as I always do) to get a seat as close to the screen as I can stand, so as to minimize the likelihood of being infuriated by the light of some idiot's cell phone screen. So before the show starts, I'm sitting there thinking how great it is to be among all these mature, vibrant folks with such a zest for enjoying life and I decide to do a Facebook post. As I'm finishing it up, the lights go down, and in a nanosecond the woman next to me snaps, "Cell phones off!"<br />
<br />
Channeling Robert DeNiro: <em>Are you tawkin' to ME? </em><br />
<em></em><br />
Oh. my. God. Forget the, "Aren't old people wonderful?" crap. I sat there positively seething, thinking, "You cranky old bitch. I am so gonna trip you on the way out." <br />
<br />
Later that afternoon I had the best film experience of my life at the screening of Jerry Lewis' new movie <i>Max Rose</i><span class="st">, which at that point had been shown only at Cannes a couple of weeks before</span>. It's not a comedy, though there are some funny moments. Jerry Lewis plays <span class="st">a one-hit wonder jazz musician who makes an unsettling discovery following the death of his beloved wife. It's a serious role, and he's fabulous in it. And this is coming from someone who, although I certainly respected him, was never really a big fan.</span><br />
<span class="st"> </span><span class="st">Right before showtime, they announced that Jerry Lewis would be watching the film along with us. Wow! The 87-year-old icon walked out from the left side of the screen and down the aisle and sat literally four rows directly behind me.</span><br />
<br />
The film is fantastic. I'm always struck by how well comedians do in serious roles and it was almost surreal to watch Jerry Lewis' giant face on screen knowing the guy in real life is sitting right behind me. Jerry Freakin' Lewis! A comedy legend! Then I was like, "I don't care who he is. He'd better not make a peep."<br />
<br />
After the screening, he and writer/director Daniel Noah sat up front and treated the audience to a Q&A. Most people gushed over him, saying how they've been a big fan since 1952... blah, blah... whatever happened between you and Dean Martin... blah, blah... and he was not only very gracious in handling their inanity, but hysterically funny and sharp. So cool.<br />
<span class="st"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFLq4nHTe4PZyHotgY0ca8JrSxixftD26ehkPOy1hEdzYZwUw8qCaLQjn3feOfDOptqco4nVAc7WvOzam66swDDLzXhqPUP4iO2_sASUB0oNwDJGqn-0r04xKqudgKoU4KTlcjdMOC0zBE/s1600/Jerry+Lewis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFLq4nHTe4PZyHotgY0ca8JrSxixftD26ehkPOy1hEdzYZwUw8qCaLQjn3feOfDOptqco4nVAc7WvOzam66swDDLzXhqPUP4iO2_sASUB0oNwDJGqn-0r04xKqudgKoU4KTlcjdMOC0zBE/s400/Jerry+Lewis.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span class="st"><em>Max Rose</em> is expected to be released in the fall, so be on the lookout. It's a beautiful movie. </span><br />
<span class="st"></span><br />
<span class="st">About a half hour after the theater cleared out I ran into Daniel Noah and did my own share of gushing. A lady nearby heard me and rushed over to say, "This is my son!" which I thought was totally adorable. I know exactly how she feels--I could burst when my kids perform. Daniel was just so nice; it was a real thrill to meet him. His sweet mother took this picture of us.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxWo6qTAyq58uBc9_N5LqkeAn0dYBtJ7BjD9rH_B6eyLFwBp4s7zC-vp3DFUbvhdWnSSDM66tZkd_ZlbrwS1pz-5jweLy3BE3xD9zL_9kmp0g64DFR0ZyRGJBQMgAziW87T-QHhnGkSyb9/s1600/Me+and+Daniel+Noah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxWo6qTAyq58uBc9_N5LqkeAn0dYBtJ7BjD9rH_B6eyLFwBp4s7zC-vp3DFUbvhdWnSSDM66tZkd_ZlbrwS1pz-5jweLy3BE3xD9zL_9kmp0g64DFR0ZyRGJBQMgAziW87T-QHhnGkSyb9/s400/Me+and+Daniel+Noah.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
<span class="st"><br /></span> <em>Oy</em>. That is not a flattering one of me. My boobs are so not that saggy in real life. But I was at an AARP conference...
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So tomorrow I'm traveling again. Two weekends ago I was frolicking on the Atlantic in Maine; tomorrow my sister Lori and I will be partying on the Pacific in Venice Beach. We're meeting our long-lost cousin Laurie from New Zealand, who we haven't seen in 40 years, and her daughter, Melissa. Oh, <em>this</em> will be an adventure...<br />
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<br />Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043113139515346307.post-24857447315152134522013-06-16T16:32:00.004-07:002013-06-16T16:32:57.275-07:00Some Father's Day words of wisdom<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfkpNaN252t9kYvCNhse1Rdo48ZAU74mNQToTpBgzL6npycujuf6f9NmS7GFAQqJPUQsaMq7Kwehw6KpYpWCXCmKBYgES8qfxzEMsJ1Qe6HFDUHbAuxpit9jQKZ-_qTTScyzoUKlbJ1QQU/s1600/Dad+at+bus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfkpNaN252t9kYvCNhse1Rdo48ZAU74mNQToTpBgzL6npycujuf6f9NmS7GFAQqJPUQsaMq7Kwehw6KpYpWCXCmKBYgES8qfxzEMsJ1Qe6HFDUHbAuxpit9jQKZ-_qTTScyzoUKlbJ1QQU/s400/Dad+at+bus.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="userContent">"Why do I need clean underwear? If I get in an accident, I'll shit my pants anyway." -- Dad</span></td></tr>
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<br />Vegas Linda Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653067016683159930noreply@blogger.com2