Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Did anyone watch the finale of the "Bachelorette" last night? I haven't been this upset since my days as a broadway dancer in New York back in the 70's. That time I was riding in an elevator with my "bro" Enrique, a saucy little Puerto Rican with a messiah complex, when I overheard two guys talking about the death of Gower Champion. Oh my gosh, why wasn't I told. Gower was my mentor and I his star pupil. Of course I was upset, why wouldn't I be? But even that doesn't compare with emotional backwash I felt last night watching Gillian agonize over her decision of who of the two remaining guys, whom she'd known for two months, should she spend the rest of her life with. Ed or Kipton? And then Rory shows up at 11th hour. Poor Gillian. What should she do? Who should she pick? Three men she truly loves, all three her true soul mates. I felt the pain of her dilemna. I was beside myself. Greek tragedy be damned, this is the drama of our times. All poor little Gillian wants is to find someone who will love her as much as she loves herself. Isn't that what we're all looking for? In the end Gillian chose Ed and it is my true hope for them that in course of their long blissful marriage that Ed will be able to repress his homosexual tendencies and make is bride the center of the universe that only she inhabits.


  1. Hi guys,

    I can't figure out where to post my latest question, so I'm posting it here.

    I am completely overwhelmed with my life. I find myself daydreaming of being locked in an institution. What heaven that would be--to shuffle around in slippers and a robe, to be cooked for and cleaned up after, to go to group therapy every day...but since I can't afford to lock myself up, I need another solution for surviving life as a wife, mother, and business owner in Idyllwild. I'm sure you'll have the perfect answer for me! Thanks!


  2. Dear Overwhelmed Rebeckickha,
    I hear your pain, or maybe that's just Frank singing in the shower in the next room.We've all been there hon, well not me personally, I've never been a wife, mother or business owner in Idyllwild. (I'm smarter than that) But, I have been locked in an institution for a time, it's sort of a family tradition...and, aside from the handcuffs, institutions are no picnics. There's daily occupational therapy sessions where you make leather goods, I personally came home with 13 wallets and a stamped belt that read "I went to the looney bin and I all I got was this crazy belt". Then there's the group therapy where you sit around with others and have to listen to them go on and on about how they were locked in closet for days on end by their mother or beat repeatedly with a weed whacker by their father or given to much homework by their 7th grade science teacher...oh please...get over it. So, the first thing you have to stop, my dear, is fantasizing about how wonderful institutions are. They're no fantasy, except for the handcuffs. As far as the robe and the slippers go, head on over to my place, I've got a "robe" and some slippers for you...and I'll even clean up after you. But, look on the bright side, you could be Lou Bacher.(see my 7/30/09 post) Life sucks sometimes and then the clouds clear and everything looks good again,like the days when TBS has a "Seinfeld" marathon. So Rebeckichka, do something good for yourself, like watch one of my movies of the week from the 1990's on the Lifetime channel and think happy about me, because after all I'm the only one who really matters and your insignificant, though real ones, are really nothing compared to my need for sarcasm. Keep a stiff upper lip, we're here for you Kid.


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