A Grand Old Name

            George M. Cohen wrote that Mary, was a grand old name.  He even insisted that derivations of Mary, like Marie and Maria, were not quite as grand nor as lovely.  Which makes me wonder what they were thinking when some of today’s parents named their children?  Or for that matter, what possesses adults to change their perfectly acceptable names to something that makes no sense?

          I was watching LL Cool J doing a pretty good job of catching the bad guys on a TV show the other night and wondered what people actually called him to his face.  Do you say, ‘Hey, how’s it happening LL?’  Or is it, ‘Great show Mr. Cool?’  What then happens to the J part of his name?  Is it left flapping in the breeze like a sole coming away from an old shoe?

          And what about Ice-T?  He’s been keeping Law & Order for years and I’m still at a loss to understand how one would address him.  ‘Would you like a glass of iced tea Mr. Ice-T?’  And then of course there’s Ice-Cube, just to confuse matters completely.

          Of course there are some names that actually do suit the person to whom they’re applied.  Snoop Dog, for instance.  He looks a lot like a skinny beagle so top marks for that one Mr. Dog.  But, 50 Cent?  Is that supposed to indicate how much he has in his off-shore account or how much he wants to be paid for future appearances?  Another puzzlement for me to ponder!

          Then, there are the girls’ names.  Poor Gwyneth Paltrow has been hammered nearly to death because she named her daughter, Apple.  Ms. Paltrow’s excuse for this was that an apple is such a pretty fruit…so why not call an adorable baby a piece of fruit?  Why not indeed?  Perhaps because the kid will thump you in the kneecaps when she gets older, would be my best guess, but that’s just me.

          Beyonce’s baby girl got stuck with Blue Ivy.  Not too awful until you realize that her Dad’s name is Jay Z.   As we all know, kids can be cruel, so I wonder how long it might be until someone latches on to BlueJay or BlueZee and it devolves from there.

          And let us not forget the different and various spellings of names that once upon a time were quite easy to remember and spell.  Cheyna, Chyna, Ashlee, Ashleigh, Ashley…the list goes on and on.

          But the name we should all feel truly mystified by is Blanket.  Now I’m fully aware that the parents of Blanket were probably not working with a full deck when the name cropped up in conversation, but just how many brain cells do you have to have to realize that a blanket goes on a bed and not on a baby’s birth certificate?  And there isn’t even a way to cute-ify it (don’t nitpick…if Blanket can be a name, cute-ify can be a word!).   Bla, Blan, Blankie…yikes!

          And what happens when the child becomes an adult and decides to marry the girl of his dreams?  I can picture it now:

          ‘Do you Blanket, take Pillow for your wedded wife?’  And all the bedposts applauded the union.

          Now I know friends might point out that I gave my daughter an unusual name, but it is still an acceptable girl’s name and not a name gleaned from the local orchard, vegetable garden or linen closet.

          I think George M. Cohen had a good point.  Let’s get back to those grand old names of yore and stop trying to outdo each other with just how ‘different’ we can be in choosing a baby’s name.

         

         

         

         

         

         

Are You Kidding Me?

          Let me set the scene.

          A woman, incapacitated by a broken ankle and on crutches, is attacked at the top of the stairs by the family’s psycho Nanny.  The woman, a delicate looking blonde, tries to defend herself as best she can, but Psycho Nanny is younger and stronger, plus she has the advantage of not being hampered by a couple of wooden poles jammed under her arms.  After beating each other around the head for several minutes, causing some serious damage to the Delicate Looking Woman, Psycho Nanny ends the altercation by pushing the woman head first down the stairs.  There she lies, beaten to a pulp, barely breathing.

          Enter handsome husband who at first is oblivious to the mayhem being caused in his home and proceeds straight to the kitchen to greet his little woman.  There he is confronted by Psycho Nanny complete with a cast iron frying pan which she smartly wraps around Handsome Husband’s head.

          Now we have two people lying on the floor doing some critical bleeding while Psycho Nanny walks between them muttering to herself. 

          Handsome Husband raises his head barely inches off the floor and peers across the room to where his Delicate Looking wife lies battered, bruised and bleeding, and says:

          ‘Are you all right?’

       Now I ask you?  Really?  Could not the screenwriters have come up with another question…another phrase, anything but what appears to me to be the most idiotic line ever written?

          Just what is Delicate Looking wife supposed to say to that? 

          ‘Well duh…can you not see the red ooze puddling around my body?  But apart from that, I’m great.  Oh and, how’s yourself?  Doing okay?’

          And this dumb line is not just the standard for murderous home rampages.  It is used with increasing frequency in any and all situations in which someone gets hurt or is in some sort of danger. 

          Hanging from a cliff edge with only eight fingers between life and certain death, or stuck in a wrecked car with fire about to ignite the fumes and gas dripping from the fuel tank, you can bet your bifocals that the immortal, ‘are you all right?’ will spout from the mouths of rescuers.

          I’ve only once been in a situation that could be termed ‘life or death’ and believe me, my rescuer was more concerned with getting me to safety than to ask obviously ridiculous questions.  But that is a post for another time.

          In this meantime, perhaps we could send suggestions to the screenwriters of the various movie studios and give them creative and different examples of suitable lines to be used in dangerous situations.  Lines that won’t leave viewers rolling their eyes and gritting their teeth in frustration.  Well, it’s a thought anyway.

         

         

         

A Slower, Gentler Time

          Last week, I took myself off to the local cinema complex to enjoy a good movie.  I was nearly knocked over by the countless number of young folk elbowing their way into two separate theatres to see the latest offering in the blood and guts department.  The favorite for the young people that week was a movie featuring children hunting other children while adults looked on and cheered.  The concept made me shudder.  Talk about stepping backwards into history and the days of Rome and the gladiators.

          These days it seems that people attend movies not so much to be transported by their imaginations into beautiful places or to enjoy a tender love story or amusing comedy, but to have their ears bashed with extremely loud noise that passes for music, to have people being shot, stabbed, dismembered or otherwise disposed of, and to watch scene after scene of either car crashes, car chases or car explosions.  This is entertainment for today’s youth.

          And that of course, had me remembering…

          Prior to taking my granddaughter on a long promised vacation to New York and Europe last year, I asked her to watch two movies with me.  I explained that, since we’d be playing tourist while in New York and visiting the Empire State Building, I wanted her to see how it had been featured in so many great movies.  I guess I wanted her to be impressed with actually standing on the same spot as some famous people.  The two movies were: An Affair to Remember and Sleepless in Seattle. 

          Now, An Affair to Remember is one of my all-time favorites.  I’ve watched it so many times I can practically mouth every line of dialogue along with the stars.  For me, it has all the elements a terrific movie needs…wonderful actors, gorgeous scenery, brilliant writing, tender love scenes and a good cry before the end.  And since ‘Affair’ is delightfully referred to in Sleepless in Seattle, and also features the Empire State Building as an important part of the movie, I thought it a perfect follow-up to ‘Affair.’

 Tasha and the Empire State Building

          So there we were in my daughter’s living room, DVR remote on hand... Three generations of movie goers ready to be swept off into celluloid heaven by the debonair charm of Cary Grant and the subtle humor of the beautiful script.  At least that’s what I thought would happen.

          I was stunned therefore, and admittedly a little miffed, when, at a most poignant part in the film…a scene where the two would be lovers are making plans to meet in six months time at the top of the Empire State Building, my daughter sighed and said: ‘Can we fast forward through this Mum?  It’s kinda boring.’

          Huh?  One of the sweetest, most touching scenes in the whole movie was considered boring?  I was not amused.  And, although I insisted we persevere with watching all the movie to the end, it did make me realize that in this hurry, hurry, hurry world we live in today, there is no place for something as gentle, as simple as a cinematic love story.  And that makes me very sad.

           

         

                             

You Are What You Eat?

          There is an old adage, ‘you are what you eat.’  That must mean that my neighbor, a tall, willowy, young miss, eats fresh air sandwiches on a regular basis.  And, she probably washes the whole lot down with water from a secret spring under her house that contains not simply zero calories but negative ten calories.

           By the same standard, I must be the one who hooks herself up to a vat of cream each mealtime and slurps strawberry smoothies with wild abandon.  Which, trust me, I don’t do, so I consider it grossly unfair that I should pack on the pounds just by looking at food, while others can eat what they like and remain reed slim.

          This dichotomy was recently brought to mind when I read about a little girl who was scolded by her school teacher for bringing an unsuitable lunch from home. Her neatly packed meal consisted of a turkey sandwich, a banana, a small packet of chips and an apple juice.  This, according to the Food Police at the school was completely unsatisfactory.  Where was the milk?  An essential food requirement for healthy growth, they spouted.  Children should be encouraged to eat at the school cafeteria…after all, that’s where good nourishment could be found.

          And just what was the offering at the school cafeteria that day you may ask?  Well, there was certainly milk.  Added to that there were trays and trays of greasy, fried, chicken nuggets.  Eat enough of those sweetie pie and you’ll be wondering why you waddle when you walk.

          But that’s how it seems to be in this day and age.  Even our TV advertisements seem to contradict themselves.  This fact was actually pointed out to me by a very new immigrant to our fair shores recently.

          First, she said, we stare at lovely slenderized lasses extolling the virtues of one diet eating plan after another.  The one a viewer eventually chooses is dependent entirely on how good a sales job the TV lass has done at the time, for there doesn’t appear to be much difference in the actual food.

          Then, my friend continued, not ten minutes later (usually in the next commercial break) a voice-over is telling us that we should all pop over to Joe’s to enjoy a mouthwatering pizza as only Joe can make it.  Or, how about those hamburgers with juices dripping, and with bacon curling around the succulent meat pattie?  Try pretending they’re just as good for you as a salad of spring grasses and twigs, if you dare.

          I’m fully aware that we, as a nation, are horribly overweight.  But, suggesting that we all try an e-diet which, although delicious to look at tastes like soap slices on grilled tree bark is asking too much.  At least it is asking too much of me. 

          On the other hand, if I could look as svelte as my slender neighbor… perhaps a regular diet of fresh air sandwiches is not such a bad thing?