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Cease and desist

Dear Life:

Please stop torturing me with the following:

1. Gray hair. Specifically mine. I remain 27. I’m surprised you don’t know that.

2. People who pronounce mojitos as “moh-gee-toes.” Don’t let them drink anything ever again.

3. High school girls wearing the uniform of black leggings under riding boots. Girls: Show some freakin’ originality!

4. Selfies. Just stop.

5. Shoe liners that slip off your heels. These are worse than a plague of locusts. (But not worse than a herd of No. 3.)

6. Restaurants that act like it is a big deal to squeeze you in for a reservation, but when you arrive, there are only two other people there. Get over yourself!

7. Bald men who pretend they are not, in fact, bald. Shave it, for crying out loud!

8. People who blame everyone else for problems they have because of their own decisions. Own it! If you make a choice and it is the wrong one, own that too.

9. Anger. Anyone’s except mine, of course.

10. Thin women who say they never exercise or diet. Shut it.

Thank you for ceasing all of the above, Life. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Love ya!
Beth

Ah, those pervasive pagans

Dear People Wound Up About Halloween:

You’ve made your outrage about celebrating the “Devil’s holiday” quite clear. Fine. I hear you.

It’s true that many scholars believe that Halloween, or All Hallows’ Eve, has its roots in the ancient Celtic festival known as Samhain — the end of harvest season and the time for pagans to stock up for the winter. The Gaels believed Oct. 31 offered a window between the living and the dead, and they wore costumes to attempt to mimic or appease evil spirits.

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Other scholars disagree and state that it originated independently of Samhain.

Regardless of that controversy, let me ask you this: Do you get similarly up in arms about Santa Claus? You should. He is a modern interpretation of the pagan belief that spirits traveled the sky in midwinter.

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Do you always have a Christmas tree? Well, that’s based on a pagan tradition of bringing in greenery in winter.

Do you celebrate Thanksgiving? The origins of that holiday are not happy, happy, joy, joy — Pilgrims and Indians loving each other. Don’t forget that white folks killed the natives and took over their land and crops. In fact, in 1643, Gov. Williem Kieft launched a surprise attack on the Native Americans living on Manhattan Island. This joyful little event ended with people kicking severed heads through the streets. Lovely!

4269105692_2d20bdb940My point? You are a hypocrite. Many of our holidays have not-so-sacred beginnings.
My recommendation? Get a life! Relax and just enjoy our modern celebrations for what they are: a chance to do something different and have fun with your family!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to find my kids’ trick-or-treat bags.

Happy Halloween!
Beth

Brain Drain? Yes.

Dear Brain:

Listen, you’ve got to stop. This middle-of-the-night cry for attention is getting old.

What’s that? You don’t know what I’m talking about? Let me remind you:

  1. I don’t want to think about my ever-expanding to-do list at 2 a.m.
  2. I won’t tell off that person I can’t stand. You and I both know it, so quit thinking of clever things for me to say.
  3. Stop interrupting my dreams of Johnny Depp to remind me that I need to pay for my children’s after-school care. That’s just wrong.
  4. I ate plenty of food at dinner. You and my stomach don’t need to invent hunger.
  5. Just decide whether I’m hot or cold and stick with it.
  6. I don’t need you to overwhelm me with guilt about abandoning this blog for so long. We both know why, so leave it alone.
  7. Yes, I set my phone alarm.
  8. Yes, I locked the front door. Shut up! I don’t even use the front door.
  9. No, you don’t hear a kid crying.
  10. No, that’s not an odd scratching sound outside.

Please, I’m begging you: Go to sleep and stay there!

Thanks,
Beth

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Harry Potter and the Bag of Pee

Dear Humanity:

My faith in you is restored, thanks to an honest person at Islands of Adventure who returned a Harry Potter bag containing a stuffed owl and my husband’s prescription Ray-Bans.

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That faith was sorely tested earlier when my oldest son discovered a different Harry Potter bag filled with pee in the line for the Pteranodon Flyers. Yes, pee as in human urine. I guess someone really had to go, but there are better options. Even my 8-year-old knows that.

Dominic: Maybe somebody doesn’t like Harry Potter, but they didn’t have to do that! They should have left the line to go to the bathroom.

Yes, they should have.

Anyway, we lost the aforementioned bag during the death-defying action-packed adventure called “The Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey Locker Experience.”

We thought all hope was lost, but some kind soul did a good deed. While I was retrieving Jay the Owl and the glasses, the Keeper of the Loot told me that someone had turned in a wallet that day with more than $1,000 in cash. That buys a lot of stuffed owls.

It’s humbling, really, to be reminded that there is good in the world. It’s especially hard to fathom after a day pressed against the teeming, undulating flesh of other theme-parkers.

Thanks for the reminder.

Sincerely,
Beth

Twerk it, girl!

Oh Miley

Dear Miley,

By now, you’ve likely slept off the adrenaline rush from last night’s performance at the VMAs. You have undoubtedly noted the less-than-stellar reviews of your presentation. Many people are wondering now (and were wondering last night), “What was Miley thinking?”

Will Smith and family react

Will Smith and family were fairly shocked, I’d say.

I bet I know what you were thinking.

I bet it was, “I don’t want to be known as Hannah Montana anymore.”

I get it. Many child stars go through the same thing. Look at Britney and Lindsay. Heck, even look at Judy Garland!

Reinvention is the name of the fame game. When Christina Aguilera wanted to show us she was all grown up, she gave us the “Dirrty” video (which made us feel like we could get herpes from contact with our TVs).

When Julie Andrews wanted to shed her wholesome Mary Poppins image, she took off her top in “S.O.B.”

Notice a theme emerging here. I don’t want to scream “gender issues,” but there is a problem. Why do women feel like they have to get naked, or nearly naked, to shed an image? In running away from Rachel Green, even Jennifer Aniston has headed down that path with “Horrible Bosses” and “We’re the Millers.”

Jennifer Aniston

And usually, the response is shock and dismay (OK, maybe not in Aniston’s case, but still). And the level of outrage seems greater than when male stars try to break out of their mold.

For example, there is no massive backlash against Bieber. Chris Brown seems to be doing just fine. Even Danny Bonaduce has a regular gig now.

Maybe this is on my mind because today is Women’s Equality Day.

Yes, it would have been nice if you had taken the Ron Howard route to respect. You didn’t. OK. All the haters need to just quiet down now and let you work this out. (Robin Thicke and his wife are the only ones who get to complain if they want.)

I hope you will consider carefully your next move. And I hope it doesn’t involve bending over and wiggling.

You stay classy, Miley.

Best wishes,
Beth

Dear Adam,

It was lovely to see you again. I must admit that you are looking much improved over the last time I saw you .

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The huge cummerbund (ie. Man Spanx) is gone, I see. You have a new jaunty Hussar hat that appears lightweight and vented. I’m sure it is much more comfortable than that wool monstrosity you were wearing in October. Your voice also has improved over the past 10 months, and the near-yodeling section of “Stand and Deliver” has benefitted markedly.

The only problem? You look tired. Worn out. In need of a vacation. I grant that you’ve been traveling for about a year. I get it. But you can’t just phone it in. People are counting on you.

I drove hours and my friend Julia flew over numerous states so that we could celebrate the 30th anniversary of when we saw you together the first time (with my poor dad as chaperone). The least you could do was one of your high kicks. OK, you are 58. I would have settled for a low kick — or even a sultry move to stage left. Nothing. You were center stage at Center Stage the whole night.

And you wore this:

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It’s not wise to wear a young version of yourself. As my friend Royce noted, you are now “that guy.”

To add insult to injury, you skedaddled seconds after the last note, thus depriving us of the chance to squeal at you for old times’ sake.

Really, Adam. Fans deserve better.

The fans who, as pre-teens, wore “Pure Sex” on our backs deserve better. (And P.S., how did we get away with that?)

The fans who still count you on the GOOMF list deserve better.

I’m disappointed. Julia is disappointed. (I think our friend Colleen is fine, but that’s because she did not have your former concert self as a guide for comparison.)

Of course I’ll give you another chance.

Don’t let me down.

Love always,
Beth

Home, sweet home

Captain’s Log, Day 6 and 7

At long last, we are home.

30 hours of driving
+ 1,903 miles
+ hundreds and hundreds of dollars
= a trip we won’t repeat.

There were some good moments (“Wicked,” pierogies, seeing family, Roadside America, Crayola Factory) and some bad (Dad and I are not quite on speaking terms).

We are planning our next trip to the New York/Pennsylvania area, but we will not drive. It’s just exhausting for a family that does not much care for road trips. We prefer to fly.

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The highlight of the drive back was a detour to the Lincoln Memorial.
The low point was the traffic everywhere. Where was everyone going this weekend?

I’m exhausted. Going to work tomorrow will be a relief.

And then my mother-in-law arrives.

Stay tuned …
Beth

Color me happy

Captain’s Log: Day 5

In “Poetics,” Aristotle wrote:

Since the objects of imitation are men in action, and these men must be either of a higher or a lower type (for moral character mainly answers to these divisions, goodness and badness being the distinguishing marks of moral differences), it follows that we must represent men either as better than in real life, or as worse, or as they are.

I’m going for comedy out of tragedy here, so you all know that I pick and choose what will make the best stories. Heroes and villains and a story arranged just so.

You know that, right? Right?! I guess I know how Augusten Burroughs feels. Sigh.

Anyway, today made the whole vacation worthwhile. Family time all day with the Crayola Factory thrown in for good measure.

The place is pretty awesome. A Mecca for my artistic boys, although they were leery at first. A few kids in mid tantrum came out as we were going in. Dominic said, “What’s happening in there that everyone comes out screaming?”

It’s nothing a little nap couldn’t fix.

This was the best thing we could have done. Look at the boys with their cousins!

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Eddie just said, “I liked today.”
Yeah, me too.
Beth

Coming tomorrow: the home stretch

Captain’s Log: Day 4

New York was hot. So hot. The musical should have been “Spider-Man: Turn on the Air.” After the 10-block walk from Penn Station, the sweat had dripped into my eyes and pooled in my underwear.

I felt sorry for the furry characters hawking photo opps in Times Square. I could only imagine the human soup puddles in their fuzz-covered shoes.

I’m from the South, but even my blood wasn’t thin enough for that heat.

The musical was … meh. Even the boys were a little bored. After another romantic Peter/Mary Jane love scene, Gideon groaned, “Not again!”

A walk through the sea of people that is the theater district, dinner, then “Wicked.” That musical did not disappoint. I saw it when it first opened in 2003 and featured Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth. It’s still snappy, even at 10 years old.

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Day 3 ended with two trains, a bus and a shuttle back to glorious Newark.

Today began with another trip down memory lane. This is the Somerset, New Jersey, house I lived in until I was 3.

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I remember standing at the front door eagerly awaiting the garbage man, on whom I had a crush. Nice.

Then we were off to Easton, where we spent the day with half a dozen of my cousins — none of whom knew we were in the area and coming to visit until I happened to text one of them last night. They hadn’t heard we were supposed to be in town with the RV either. Oh Dad. Dad the Anti-planner. Surprise!

All’s well that ends well. Or ends wet in our case. Yay for play time for the kids!

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Finally vacationing,
Beth

Coming tomorrow: Crayola factory adventure

Some like it hot

Captain’s Log: Day 3

Eight states and 12 hours later, we arrived in the thriving metropolis of Newark.

You may be asking, “Why? Oh God, Woman, why Newark?”

Because the budget for this trip from hell does not include $400 per night for a New York hotel.

Featuring reasonable hotel rates and convenient (sort of) train service to New York City, Newark it is.

On the way up, we stopped at a place that looms large in my memory from road trips with my parents: Roadside America.

My boys loved it as much as I did. That right there almost made the whole fiasco worthwhile.

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Today we head to NYC where the main attraction — and the reason we couldn’t cancel this trip — awaits us on the Great White Way: tickets to Spider-Man and Wicked.

We’re all pretty excited. We’re ignoring all the news reports that feature phrases we don’t want to hear — phrases such as “heat advisory” and “hottest day of the year.”

We’re going to make this work.
Beth

Coming tomorrow: Land of my father

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