Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Mad Men Again

Don't stop 'till you get enough!

Monday, August 18, 2008

It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World

I really don't have anything to say or blog about. I simply needed to post a picture of Don Draper from AMC's Mad Men and to announce boldly to the world.....DAMN, he's fine looking. Jon Hamm fits into Draper like Tom Selleck fit into Magnum and William Shater fit into Capt Kirk. There are some actors who are just MADE to play the characters they play. And Hamm is one of them. I hope the show lasts forever -- it's smart, stylish and I love it. P.S. We had a very similar Chip 'n Dip set.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Olympics for the New Millenium

The Olympics have started and while totally amazing, I definitely feel that something is missing this time around. This kept me up thinking all last night, I think I have figured out what it is and have taken steps to correct it.

You know how there’s the Regular Olympics and the Winter Olympics and the Summer Olympics and the Special Olympics? Well, premiering this year: The Mid-Life Crisis Olympics. (Check your local listings for events and times.) You will witness some of the finest in: Hot Flashes, Acne Breakouts, Crying Jags and the final heat in the Female Non-Genetic Induced Hair Loss Race. There will also be, for the first time, co-ed events such as Buying an Expensive Convertible Sports Car With No Credit, followed by dual heat of The Rush for HRT for Women, and the Rush for Viagra for Men, culminating in the Search for Inappropriate Dating Partners While Hiding It From Your Current Partner. All of this is available for any athlete over the age of 50.

Also this year, we will introduce our new division of Plastic Surgery, which will pit man against the knife. It will take incredible strength to decide how much goes, how much stays. There's the battle with self and the battle with the plastic surgeon -- mano y mano. Surely here, we will definitely feel the agony of defeat when eyebrows are permanently fixed in the unnatural Joan Crawford style, belly buttons are lost or off center after replacement after a tummy tuck, the occasional liposuctioning of the wrong part of the body or a breast implant blowout. It surely will be an eye-opener for both the audience, the participants AND the surgeons. Medals in this event are indeed given to the winners, even though they will look great and not give a shit. Losers in this event will receive the business cards of local attorneys, who will secure nice retirement packages via malpractice litigation.

We will also feature the usual events: Self Loathing, Self Flogging, Hormone Induced Panic Attacks and new this year: The Depression Inspired Couch-Sit With Flat Affect. We have thousands who have trained YEARS just for this very event.

It should be really exciting. Please tune in for the "MidLife Crisis Olympics" brought to you buy Fleets Enema (High Colonics for the Higher Ups); Lipitor (When the Sludge Builds Up, We'll Be There), and the makers of Xanax (Get Hooked and Not Care About ANYTHING Again). Rolling out their new campaign is the Clearasil Company, ("You Thought You Were Done With Us, But You Were SO Wrong!!") featuring a mother trying to bribe her 16 year old clear-skinned daughter into buying a tube for her at the drugstore! Even Don Draper would be proud of this award winner!

So tune in -- a good time is guaranteed for all.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

For Dear Neil

I got word today that Neil, an old friend of mine, had passed away. He was 56...and had been on vacation with his family.

I am extremely sad -- for me, for his friends, for his family. And his passing brings up alot of memories and questions in my life, especially in view of how my life is now. Neil was one of my major "should I have zigged when I ended up zagging?".

He was one of the funniest human beings on the face of the planet. He was also kind, generous, gentle..and did I mention funny? I never dated a human being in my life that made me laugh more than he did. And I'm not waxing poetic because he's not here anymore. Ask anyone who knew him and they would tell you. There was no one funnier who did not get paid for their talent.

One time, for Lent, he sent me an envelope with a piece of dryer fuzz. The note said, "So what are you doing for Lint?" That was it. That was Neil.

We met when he was a writer at the Trib and I was a college age assistant in the sports department. Because many of the high school and college finals come in late on Friday and Saturday, he was in charge, many times, of "babysiting" the people like me who took results over the phone and turned them into basic stats for the paper. We ended up being good friends and then began dating.

He ended up getting an offer from another paper in another state and it made it hard for both of us. He wanted me to marry him and go with him. I was in college, unsure of what I wanted, and felt our relationship wasn't at the stage we should be talking marriage. And I was too frightened to move 1000 miles away and end up in a broken relationship. I was just afraid. Afraid. So he ended up moving and we wrote and talked continually. But as things happen, long distance romances just don't work. When he'd come to visit, it was hard because I was unsure of myself, scared of my feelings, scared of his. I knew he loved me and loved me completely. Many times I think I should have taken a chance and gone with him. Many times, I think I was right to stay here to nurse my parents until their deaths, have the children that I do. Even go through the pain of divorce from WAM.

Neil did several amazing things for me some of which I had forgotten. I forgot to remember how special he told me I was, how beautiful, how funny, how loving. And in typical Neil style, he had a friend named Bill, who had moved to Chicago with his wife who was from Delaware. Well, Bill's wife didn't know a soul. Was miserable and wanted to go back to what she knew. When Neil called her one time to see how she was, she told him she was miserable. He told her he could fix that.

He called me and asked me to call her. I did. We talked for 3 hours and went to see "Ordinary People" and have a couple beers. That was longer ago than I want to admit to. And she and I lost contact a bit with our lives going in crazy directions, but she emailed me to tell me about Neil. And we talked a long time and realized how much we missed each other and all the incredible laughs we had.

My dear Neil....I miss you. I'll remember the things you told me. I thank you for bringing Bill and his family into my life....and I thank you again for helping me renew the friendship I have with Dona.
Love,
Lara

Friday, July 4, 2008

The Seven Words...

I grew up on George Carlin and I always admired his wit, his quick humor...the way he looked at things. He was probably one of the first smart-asses I ever saw. Smart asses who made you think. As such, he is of course, my hero.

I had to take time to remember him in my own way. So here, for the first time, Lara Lampoon's George Carlin's "The Seven Words You Can Not Say on Television".

Now there are alot of words you can not say on television. I remember the aghast gasps in the 1970's when "All in the Family" introduced us to the sound of a toilet flushing in the background and the word "pregnant". Before that, it simply wasn't done. Times have changed, but as Carlin's 7 words have remained a staple of the "you STILL can't say these words on television", the words I will submit to you have consistently been Kingpins of the Female No-Fly Buzzword Zone since the beginnings of organized speech.

I present to you: the Seven Words You Can Not Say to a Woman...and Survive.

1. Weight
2. Teenagers
3. Libido
4. Sleep
5. Money
6. Menopause
7. Housework

Even READING these words raised the hairs on your necks, didn't it??

I don't believe I need to explain the meaning of any of these words to a fellow female over a certain age. They are already trying to shake off seeing the list in print and may even be washing their eyes out.

For those of you who don't quite "get" the list, well, if you're a woman, I can tell you that eventually, you will. If you are a man, I am gifting you some practical advice that will more than likely save you over and over.

Don't ever say anything even remotely associated with these words to ANY woman, even if you suspect she wouldn't understand. I guarantee you, if you don't practice not saying them now, they could potentially spill out at the most unopportune moment and put your life at risk. Trust me. I work for doctors.

So go forth, ye fellow humans, armed with this knowledge...for knowledge is power. George would be proud.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Welcome Home

Is there anything nicer than coming home to a clean, organized, lovely kitchen? Doesn't it just beg for you to sit down with a nice cup of tea, maybe browse the mail, perhaps start a light supper of pasta with fresh basil and mozzarella? Perhaps with a glass of a delightful pinot noir? Hmmmm. Welcome home, honey.

My point? I have no idea what that would feel like. I just happened to take a look at my kitchen cabinets and noticed peanut butter (Sean), blue food coloring (Erin), and dribbles of chocolate syrup (either one) on the doors. Don't ask me why. And for some reason, an ant colony has taken over my kitchen counter plant. I CAN NOT kill the plant. CAN NOT. It's been in my family for like 25 years and refuses to die no matter how not-green my family thumbs are. The cats have knocked over their food dishes and Mena has started this "thing" of dipping over the water bowl. I don't know. It's hot...maybe she's trying to bathe. I just don't know. I simply don't know how this shit happens.

I clean. I dust and wax and polish and shine and vacuum and organize and swish and swirl and throw crap out (usually when the moon is full, Pluto is in the House of Saturn and Jupiter's spot is a lovely shade of burgundy). BUT, even when NO ONE IS HOME, it gets totally wrecked. Yes, Mena digs dirty socks out of the laundry basket and carries them all over the house like they are her kittens. Sure, Hurricane Erin strikes. Sure, sometimes the laundry piles up, the recycling poureth over, I have ring around the tub and sage brush rolling down the hallway. AND no, I don't always get to the dinner dishes, but for heaven's sake...peanut butter, blue food coloring and chocolate syrup?

How long has it been there? What if it's been there for like YEARS and I never noticed it? OMG -- I'm NOT June Cleaver!

It's been a terrible truth I've struggled not to face. But there it is. Out in the open. I believe I'm a disorganized clutterbug who does not pay attention to anything related to housework. I had company over the weekend, and Erin and I cleaned up (sorta) after they left. When Sam came over, I was fairly proud that there was even a path thru the livingroom. I told him that we had cleaned up after the company left....that the livingroom had been the housing unit for the visiting kids. He said, and I quote, "This is clean??"

He should have seen it BEFORE I spent 2 hours digging out.

With this recent realization of my affliction and my poor attempts at problem solving, I have now spent just as much money on books about home organization as I have on books about dieting.

But I'm trying to kick the habit. (It has been noted that if I spent my time organizing and cleaning as opposed to reading books about organizing and cleaning, that I'd not be in the mess I'm currently in....). I'm going to LOVE my mess. I'm going to embrace the Slob Factor that has been passed down from me to my children.

And I'm gonna start making those cats earn their keep by doing at least a couple loads of laundry a week.

Sunday, June 29, 2008

Chez Harrison

A dear friend is coming to visit who has never been in my neck of the midwest. She offered to stay in a hotel...you know, the Ritz Carlton, the Hilton, the Hyatt....but, ala William Shatner, I said, "You could......BUT WHY?" The Chez Harrison can offer you accomodations and amenities that you CLEARLY can not get anywhere else, even at a 5-Star hotel. I told her this....and emphatically stated she absolutely cannot enjoy the sheer class of Chicago unless she stays at my bed-and-sometimes-breakfast.

For starters...see the above picture? The serene colors, comforting furniture, the neat, open and airy rooms? Well, my place doesn't look anything like that at all.

However, here at the Chez Harrison, we offer so much more! For instance -- luxurious surroundings: a double wide driveway, shared with the cranky 90 year old neighbor and his 40-something "housemate" who gets arrested every month or so for treating him like an old shoe. Also, on the other side, separated, unfortunately by a big brown fence, is the neighborhood junk collector, who at last count, has about 75 old, unused lawn mowers in his back yard. Lucky for us, he and my 90 year old neighbor are brothers who hate each other. Excitement abounds in this fast-paced geriatric triad.

What else at Chez Harrison? Exquisite cuisine. Unsurpassed in fast food heaven. We have: Subway, McDonald's, Burger King, Taco Bell, 35 pizza places within walking distance, about 7 Starbucks and 5 bagel joints. Delivery is always an option at our establishment, as I am registered with each and every one of them and taste-tested all the options for my guests' comfort. And please, it goes without saying, an abundance of liquor stores that can satisfy your every alcohol fueled whim.

Still having trouble deciding? Well, how about THIS for the clincher? An all exclusive, magnificent collection of stray cats, coming from as far as the inner city, Wisconsin and County Animal Control (when I couldn't control myself) to cover you and your possessions with an array of cat hair from gold to white to black. Depending on the length of your stay, you may have enough for a fur-friendly winter coat.

I cannot see WHY Chez Harrison wouldn't be your choice to pull up some lumber, throw your luggage down and take a load off.

However, a disclaimer if you will....Chez Harrison is also permanent residence of Hurricane Erin, who no matter what the season, is always active. You never know when she will strike, leaving the living room in a state of emergency. Forewarned is fair play. Should Hurricane Erin strike, it is the option of the owner to stay with you in whatever hotel you escape to.