POP! Goes the Culture

USERS PERK UP OVER iPHONE APP

2011-06-03T20:12:00.001-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

If you’re a techie who keeps abreast of the latest in cell phone gadgetry, you’ll hold iPhone’s newest application near and dear to your heart. If you’re just curious about what you or your sweetie would look like with certain, er, “physical enhancements,” this is one invention you’ll definitely cleave to your bosom.

Say hello to iAugment, a free iPhone app that gives women a virtual visualization – of what they would look with, um, a bit more bounce. The Photoshop-style tool allows users to take a picture of themselves and increase their, uh, “décolletage” using more than a dozen 3D (or should I say 3-double-D?) implant sizes.

Before you make a boob of yourself and assume that a man invented iAugment, it’s actually the brainchild of New Orleans plastic surgeon Elizabeth Kinsley, who created the app with Touch Studios, which develops custom apps for iPhone, Droid, Blackberry and iPad, as well as programs for Facebook.

“This is designed to give them the best idea possible of how they might look after surgery,” Kinsley said. “You can show your friends, your boyfriend or your husband and say ‘what do you think?’”

iAugment also includes the option to find a plastic surgeon near you, which might support Kinsley’s claim that the app is meant for women considering going under the knife were it not for several users’ discovery that the nearest (and only) recommended surgeon is Kinsley herself.

Serious purposes notwithstanding, there’s no doubt a lot of folks won’t give a hoot about the app’s intended use and will download it strictly for entertainment value. I, of course, would NEVER engage in such juvenile tomfoolery, but I DO have a “friend” who tried out the app using pictures of numerous celebrities – some of them female – with hilarious results.

The application is selling so fast, stores can scarcely keep ‘em on the racks, and if the scores of positive online reviews I read are any indication, iAugment won’t be going bust anytime soon:

“What an awesome app! Scheduled my appointment 2day!”

“I downloaded it for my wife, she loves this app.”

“I just have it for making funny pics!”

“I wish that it could go to extremely absurd sizes … I don't care what its true purpose is.”

“Great fun. Works on your butt, too.”

“I'm a guy … how I can undo this?”

A word of caution, though: Dangerously close to iAugment’s “Save” button is another button that posts your results to Facebook. One wrong move and you’ll be saying “ta-ta” to your dignity.

SOUVENIRS ARE ROYAL PAIN IN THE NECK

2011-05-20T12:26:00.002-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

It was the wedding of the century for Anglophiles, adorers of all things British including The Spice Girls, Chumbawamba, and spotted dick.

Like his father Charles’ fairytale wedding three decades before, Prince William’s news-making nuptials last month captured hearts and headlines around the globe. Starry-eyed romantics set alarm clocks and DVRs, determined not to miss the ballyhooed event; some fanatics took it a step further, like Teresa Cunningham, a Missouri woman who said “cheerio” to her job and flew to London to camp outside Westminster Abbey the night before the joyous event.

The bouquet tossing, rice throwing, hailing and farewelling may be over, but Royal Wedding Insanity certainly isn’t. As the pomp, publicity and paparazzi surrounding the April 29 ceremony dwindle, the money-making merchandise machine is just getting warmed up.

Prince Charles and Lady Di’s vow-swapping spawned an endless line of garish plates and mugs, but that memorabilia doesn’t hold a Union Jack-emblazoned candle to the chintzy chotchkes, crazy collectibles and strange souvenirs being sold to commemorate the union of “Wills” and Kate Middleton. There’s virtually something for everyone, though I doubt anyone but hardcore fans would want most of these items:

Royal Wedding Silk Knickers (that’s “panties” to us Yanks) – Keep the Royals close to your, um, heart by ordering these crown-
and-frill-bedecked bloomers for $11.52 on Ebay.

William and “KaTEA” Bags – ‘Cause nothing says “romance” more than watching the happy couple drown in a sea of Earl Grey.
(www.donkey-products.com)

Royal Cellphone – Features “God Save the Queen” as its ringtone. You’ll want to drop this phone in the toilet after a couple of hours of having to stand up every time you get a call.

Royal Wedding Sick Bags – Bloody perfect for folks who are royally sick of all the hoopla and feel like “throne up.” (www.lydialeith.com)

Papa John’s Will and Kate Pizza – Mushrooms, peppers, olives, pepperoni and other toppings make up the likeness of the couple on this pie selling for $500 - that's a lotsa mozzarella! Though not sold in the U.S., the very idea makes me want to reach for a Royal Wedding Sick Bag.

Will and Kate PEZ – With England’s history of beheading kings, who WOULDN’T want to eat candy from the gaping neck-holes of the royals?

Crown Jewel Condoms – Sales slogan: “Lie back and think of England.” Blimey!

Hopefully, these and other madcap mementos will make their way to home shopping channels. After all, Teresa Cunningham needs something to occupy her newfound free time.

BREAK-UPS YOU CAN’T MAKE UP

2011-05-06T12:21:00.001-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

As the Carpenters and Neil Sedaka before them sang, “Breaking up is hard to do.”

Sometimes relationships start with a spark but fizzle out, sometimes they’re fractured by infidelity, sometimes the chemistry just isn’t there, sometimes people simply grow apart. And sometimes, the rose not only falls off the bloom, it’s ripped from the vine before it even has a chance to blossom.

Most of us have had relationships fraught with red flags of warning, couplings we knew early on just weren’t going to work out. But in some cases, the realization blindsides us and brings the liaison to a screeching halt, sometimes even on the first date. Something happens, something so jarringly unacceptable – an action, insult, or cringe-inducing discovery about our honey-bunnies – that douses the flames of passion and leaves us boggle-minded and reeling.

This is the moment commonly known as “the deal-breaker.”

I’m not talking about run-of-the-mill complaints like, “She squeezes the toothpaste from the top,” or “He puts the empty milk carton back in the fridge.” That’s mere nitpickery compared to the breakups chronicled on Robert K. Elder’s blog, “It Was Over When: Tales of Romantic Dead Ends” and his book by the same name. The tales of good love gone bad are sad, stupefying, hilarious and often unprintable in a family newspaper. If you think you’ve dated some jerks, freaks and psychos, you’re bound to feel better about your own failed affairs of the heart after reading user-submitted stories like:

“It Was Over When …”

* “… she wanted us to drink each other’s blood so we would always be together.”

* “… he sent me some online weight loss tips.”

* “ … he wanted to go to Kohl’s and buy me underwear that he had bought his wife.”

* “…she said, ‘If you go to sleep tonite [sic] you will not wake up tomorrow.’”

* “ … (My son’s principal) informed me it was against school policy for my husband to pick up a senior cheerleader for lunch dates.”

* “I caught her in a cheap motel with a co-worker. Her mom was in another room with a friend of the co-worker.”

* “He refused to use nail clippers, instead pulling his foot up to his mouth and chewing off his toenails! Then he spit them out on my carpet!”

* “I placed a fake ad on the personals page of a local paper pretending to be exactly the kind of guy I thought she’d like. The ad only got one response, and it was from my wife.”

* “Two days after my best guy friend passed away, my boyfriend said, ‘Now I probably won’t feel jealous anymore.’”

These are interesting reading, but I’d love to see a blog called “It Was Over When: Celebrity Version.” I’d wager that Charlie Sheen’s ex-goddess is just itching to write, “It was over when he cleared all my bottled water out of the fridge to make room for his tiger blood.”

EGG-CELLENT MOVIES FOR EASTER

2011-04-22T21:01:00.002-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL
(HOPPIN’ DOWN THE BUNNY TRAIL)

Easter means different things to different people. For some, it’s about commemorating the Resurrection of Jesus; for others, it’s a time for chocolate rabbits, jellybeans and psychedelic eggs; for many, it’s both. One thing’s for sure: For most of us, the day at some point will involve the consumption of ridiculous amounts of ham.

What to do after three helpings of cheesy potatoes have turned you into a couch potato? While you’re sitting around waiting for your belly to recede so you can re-button your pants, why not add some timely movie viewing to your Sunday celebration?

No column about Easter movies should overlook such praiseworthy films as “The Passion of the Christ,” “The Greatest Story Ever Told,” and “The King of Kings.” But if your sights are set on the secular scene, here are some screen gems to put in your basket:

“It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown” (1974)
The Peanuts Gang is gearing up for Easter with visions of rainbow-hued eggs dancing in their heads – except for perpetual wet blanket Linus, who’s telling anyone within earshot that the Easter Beagle will take care of everything. Fortunately, things pan out a little better for young Mr. Van Pelt than in the embarrassing Great Pumpkin Debacle of 1966.

“Easter Parade” (1948)
Don Hewes (Fred Astaire) is crushed when his partner (Ann Miller) ends their partnership to go solo. To prove he can make it without her, he goes all Simon Cowell and vows to make a star of a random performer. He chooses Hannah Brown (Judy Garland) and the dancefest is on like Donkey Kong. The Irving Berlin score includes the well-known tunes “Steppin' Out With My Baby” and “We're a Couple of Swells.”

Animated seasonal specials are a trademark of the legendary Arthur Rankin Jr. and Jules Bass, so here’s a triple tip o’ the hat to the gentlemen who produced these Easter classics:

“Here Comes Peter Cottontail” (1971)
Pete goes toe-to-toe with the evil Irontail in a competition to be the chief Easter Bunny. The top-notch casting includes the voices of Danny Kaye as Seymour S. Sassafras, Antoine and Col. Wellington B. Bunny, Vincent Prince as January Q. Irontail, and Casey Kasem as Peter Cottontail.

“The First Easter Rabbit” (1976)
Any cartoon narrated by the great Burl Ives is a good time. Loosely based on “The Velveteen Rabbit,” it’s the tale of a stuffed rabbit that comes to life and accepts a mission to deliver Easter treats to the children of Easter Valley, a beautiful land where it’s always sunny – kinda like Palm Springs without the retirees. When a villain tries to cancel Easter by freezing the valley, Stuffy triumphs with the help of friends including Rankin/Bass’ most often recurring character, Santa Claus.

"The Easter Bunny is Comin' to Town" (1977)
Featuring the voice of Fred Astaire, this is the story of Sunny the Bunny’s efforts to deliver Easter treats to a town with no kids, aided by his friends from Kidville, a town populated ONLY by kids – kinda like “Children of the Corn” without the killing.

FROM SCARY TALES TO FAIRY TALES

2011-04-08T22:12:00.000-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Once upon a time, there was a Little Mermaid who fell in love with a prince after saving his life. But if you’re thinking the prince loved her back, she became human and they lived happily ever after in a fairyland where unicorns breathe clouds of cotton candy, you’ve fallen hook, line and sinker for the romanticized version of this story.

While watching the 1989 Disney blockbuster with my nine-year-old niece, I didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth according to Hans Christian Andersen: “Happily ever after” only happens for the prince – that cad – who marries a princess while the Little Mermaid and her stomped-on heart float away to spend eternity as a blob of sea foam.

Disney movies occasionally show the darker side of the tales upon which the films are based (e.g., the death of Bambi’s mother), but for the most part, the end results bear little resemblance to the originals. After researching some of the stories that spawned the sanitized silver screen adaptations, I decided this is one instance when ignorance really IS bliss. A comparative look at the original and Disney-fied versions of two more tales will convince you to keep those kiddies naïve, Mom and Dad, unless you’re ready for months of sleepless nights and a huge therapy bill.

“Pinocchio”

According to Disney: A little wooden boy goes through trials and tribulations (including, of course, lying-induced nose extension), and learns valuable life lessons along the way to becoming a real boy. He and beloved father/creator Geppetto live happily ever after.

Originally: Carlo Callodi’s ending found Pinocchio hanged from a tree (which may or may not have been his father; DNA results from Maury Povich are pending). Depending on which version you read, Puppetboy is turned into a donkey, tossed into the sea, devoured by a school of ravenous fish, and/or gets his feet burned off. To put it mildly, the kid’s life is one bummer after another.

“Bambi”

According to Disney: Though Bambi loses his mother, he goes on to become a stud who offs a rival buck and a pack of hunting dogs, lands a hottie named Faline, and becomes the new prince of the forest, as well as the proud father of twins.

Originally: In Felix Salten’s novel, not only is Bambi traumatized by his mother’s death, he seems to be a death magnet for small woodland creatures. His squirrel buddy (whom Disney changed to Thumper the rabbit) gets shot and dies. Bambi then befriends another squirrel … who also gets shot and dies. The moral of the story: If you’re a squirrel with a friend named Bambi, keep your life insurance policy current.

I won’t even get into the truth about “Rapunzel” (hint: It’s a weave). Kinda makes you long for the simpler days when the worst thing that happened to a fairytale kid was being kidnapped, force-fed and almost cooked by a witch.

TIME IS NOT ON MY SIDE

2011-03-25T20:03:00.004-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

We're well into the second week of Daylight Saving Time and all my clocks have been adjusted except my internal one. "Spring forward, fall back" isn’t just a catchy reminder; it’s also a good description of my attempts to get out of bed each morning for at least a month after losing that precious hour of sleep. The time change throws me into a bleary-eyed fog so thick that I found myself at 2 a.m. on Sunday, March 13, trying to set the bathroom scale ahead an ounce.

Contrary to popular belief, DST wasn’t implemented by aliens to keep earthlings in a state of subdued disorientation (which makes all that probing much easier), nor was it instituted to stiff graveyard shifters out of an hour’s pay. DST was first adopted during WWI to replace artificial lighting with extended daylight hours, thus saving energy needed for war production. I get that. But it’s 2011, and what once was practicality has become a pestilence for many, especially first-shift employees. Trust me, the roads are much safer with me driving to work by the dawn’s early light rather than navigating the murky darkness with eyes at half-mast and brain cells on E.

I asked a random sampling of friends why DST started and was surprised to learn how many folks mistakenly believe "it had something to do with helping farmers, right?" Wrong. In fact, farmers generally oppose DST because it affects harvesting, reduces labor time in the summer, and confuses the heck out of the animals because they don’t wear watches.

It’s said that DST also hurts prime-time TV ratings. I can vouch for that: DST caused me to missed a half-season of "Frasier" in the mid-‘90s because it took me three months to figure out what time it was on. It also took me that long to figure out I’d forgotten to turn the living room clock back, but that’s beside the point.

Obviously, I’m not a fan of the spring-forward concept, but falling back? I’m all for that! Yes, I know we’re fooling ourselves into thinking we’re getting an extra hour when really, it’s just a refund of what we lost in March, but who doesn’t still look forward to that 60-minute bonus, real or imagined? Some parents, that’s who. Like animals, most toddlers don’t wear watches, so the beginning or end of DST doesn’t make a whit of difference to them. As a friend with a 1-year-old told me, "I think, ‘Wow, she slept till 6! Then I realize it just 5 a.m. posing as 6 a.m. It’s still 5 a.m.!" Yet another reason I’m not a parent. (Or a farmer.)

I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to deep-six all this time-shifting tomfoolery. I'm moving to Djibouti, which not only ignores DST, but is fun to say.

SPECIAL EDITION: CATWALK DEBUT A CAKEWALK FOR VANDALIA-BUTLER GRAD

2011-03-20T20:57:00.005-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Modeling is a cakewalk for Alex Katz.

One day, the 22-year-old Daytonian was a Columbia University senior working a side gig as a bartender for private parties; the next, he was strutting his stuff – and a dessert designed by the “Cake Boss” – in a world-renown fashion show. Weeks later, he’s still reeling from the whirlwind of events that took him from student to supermodel.

“I graduate from Vandalia-Butler High School in June 2007. With four duffle bags in hand, I move into my dorm on the Upper West Side of New York,” Katz said. “At the beginning of my senior year, I start bartending to supplement my life in my adoptive, ridiculously expensive new city. I’m hired to pour champagne at a baby shower. I’m asked to walk a fashion runway. I must have missed a step somewhere.”

Three months after working the bar at a baby shower hosted by Kristen Naiman, head fashion designer for the Isaac Mizrahi runway collection, Katz answered the phone to find Naiman’s assistant on the other end. “He asked, ‘We have a small runway show coming up. Would you like to take part?’” Katz said. “I thought he was a satisfied customer calling to schedule another bartending gig, so I agreed.”

But when the assistant started throwing out words like “casting staff” and “fitting,” Katz was flummoxed. “I said, ‘I’m sorry, can you back up? Do you want me to serve drinks or be in the fashion show?’”

As it turned out, Katz was being requested for the latter job, and the “small” runway show was the debut of Mizrahi’s Autumn/Winter Collection during Fashion Week, a celebrity-studded extravaganza hosted semiannually in New York, London, Milan and Paris. This year’s New York event took place February 10-17.

Though Katz was puzzled as to why a self-described “tall, awkward kid with a Jew-fro” would be picked for a major fashion show, he thought, “Why not?” and decided to have fun with it. “I figured it would end up being the best experience ever and make a great story,” he said. “It’s not my dream job, but I had one helluva time!”

Because Fashion Week overlapped with the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show at Madison Square Garden, Mizrahi chose “Poodles and Cake” as the theme for his show, which featured female models wearing his latest designs while carrying small poodles with matching hairstyles and dye jobs. The male models, including Katz, walked the runway in waiter attire with trays of colorful cakes created by Buddy Valastro, owner of Carlo’s Bakery in Hoboken, N.J., and host of TLC’s “Cake Boss.”

Preparation for the event included Katz’s first-ever manicure and an offer to get a “Brazilian blowout,” which he declined on the grounds that it sounded smutty and/or painful. (It’s a hair-straightening treatment, by the way.) After his curly locks were sufficiently straight, a stylist began putting a wax-like product in Katz’s hair. “When I asked him what he was using, he replied in his gruff English accent, ‘It’s magic is what it is,’” Katz recalled.

That brusque Brit was none other than Eugene Soleiman, who has tamed the tresses of such celebs as Julianna Margulies and Lady Gaga, and created hair fashion for designers including Chanel, Dolce & Gabbana, and Alexander McQueen.

Katz also met Mizrahi himself for a New York minute and was pulled aside for a fashion network interview. “The reporter asked me what modeling agency I worked for and I had to honestly respond that I wasn’t a model, but if she’s interested in bartending services, I knew a capable server!” he said.

Most first-time models would fret over remembering their cues and not getting stage fright. However, Katz’s background in theater quelled any anxiety about appearing in front of a large audience. “I’ve been onstage in front of a lot of people before, and I’ve also been in embarrassing costumes,” he said, chuckling.

Instead of worrying about how and when to sashay, saunter or pivot, Katz was more focused on walking, period. “The shoes they gave me had no back to them, so I kept thinking, ‘Don’t lose a shoe!’” Impractical footwear aside, Katz said the prevailing thought during his stroll down the runway was, “Don’t drop the cake!”

Fortunately, the show went off without a hitch, making Katz something of a celebrity in his personal circle. “I thought I might have some female friends who might be excited about it, but I was surprised by how many people knew about it,” he said.

After Katz’s girlfriend, Elena, found a video of the Mizrahi show online and a friend saw his photo in The New York Times’ online review, word spread like wildfire. “There was a formal dance at school that evening,” he recalled. “It was the first time I walked into an event feeling like a star.”

Katz’s brush with “the beautiful people” hasn’t transformed him from a T-shirt and jeans kinda guy into a metrosexual fashionista. “My style is very basic. Outside of a dress suit, I don’t own any casual clothing that’s worth more than $20. I don’t lay out my clothes the night before, I just choose something in the morning and hope it matches!” he said.

“However, I do have a new appreciation for the fashion industry and what they have to go through.”

So, to an already-eclectic résumé that includes working in the NBA store, teaching Hebrew School, tutoring secular studies and bartending, Katz can now add “Supermodel.”

CELEBS SAY THE DARNEDEST THINGS

2011-03-11T15:23:00.001-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

“My brain … fires in a way that is … maybe not from this terrestrial realm. When you've got tiger blood and Adonis DNA, it's like, get with the program, dude.”

"I have a 10,000-year-old brain and the boogers of a 7-year-old.”

“I’m not bipolar, I’m bi-WINNING.”

Indeed, Charlie Sheen is winning – not at convincing anyone he’s even remotely sane, but at dominating headlines in the past couple of weeks. Sheen’s nonsensical, vainglorious rants have made the self-deemed “rock star from Mars” eminently quotable as it becomes painfully apparent that his bag of marbles has a hole big enough to fly a spaceship through.

Though he’s tested free of drugs (except one called “Charlie Sheen” that he claims will “melt your face off”), he’s obviously nowhere near emotional sobriety.

I’m certainly not mocking the mentally ill, which I believe Sheen is, but his bizarre tirades are at once saddening and (unintentionally?) hilarious, making him a frontrunner for the Celebs Say the Darnedest Things Hall of Fame, which includes the inductees listed below. (Disclaimer: Writer cannot be held responsible for any face-melting that might occur while reading these quotes.)

* Jessica Simpson: “I'm not anorexic. I'm from Texas. Are there people from Texas that are anorexic? I've never heard of one. And that includes me.”
-- Well, they DO say everything’s bigger in Texas.

* Britney Spears: “I have always wanted to travel across seas, like to Canada and stuff.”
-- Maybe she’s referring to the well-known Lake Erie Sea?

* Tara Reid: “I make Jessica Simpson look like a rock scientist.”
-- And Britney Spears like a geography major.

* Joe Theismann: “The word ‘genius’ isn’t applicable in football. A genius is a guy like Norman Einstein.”
-- I hear Norm’s brother Albert was pretty smart, too.

* Arnold Schwarzenegger: “I think gay marriage is something that should be between a man and a woman.”
-- Clearly, Gov. Terminator is unclear on the concept.

* Sarah Jessica Parker: “I love the smell of diapers. I even like when they’re wet and you smell them all warm like a baked good.”
-- I don’t even WANT to know what baked goods smell like to her.

* Sienna Miller: “I love cigarettes. Love them. I think the more positive approach you have to smoking, the less harmful it is.”
-- Does that mean my positive approach to eating chocolate makes it less fattening?

* Linda Evangelista: “I don't diet. I just don't eat as much as I'd like to.”
-- Right. And I don’t binge … I just eat everything that Linda Evangelista can’t.

* Kanye West: “I’m like a tree. I feed the branches of the people.”
-- Yo, Kanye! I’m really happy for you and I’ma let you finish, but the redwood is one of the greatest trees of all time!

* Paris Hilton: “What’s Wal-Mart? Do they sell, like, wall stuff?”
-- Obviously, she never heard of Brain-Mart, either.

I think I speak for the majority of “the little people” everywhere when I say, “Thank you, celebrities, for making the rest of us look like rock scientists.”

I JUST 'COLUMN' LIKE I SEE ‘EM

2011-02-25T23:27:00.004-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Last summer, I penned a column titled “How to Write Gooder,” which offered tips on improving such skills as punctuation, grammar and sentence structure. It drew many positive responses, but some felt a follow-up was needed. “Great tips,” one reader wrote. “But how do I turn those fancied-up sentences into something folks want to read? You make it look easier than taking candy from a baby.”

Nothing could be further from the truth. Taking candy from babies ain’t easy. Their banshee wailing alerts everyone within a five-block radius. Also, writing this column isn’t always a breeze; sometimes the process is painstaking and beset by writer’s block. That’s when I rely on this six-step process:

Step 1 – Visualize the column. Find a quiet space and free your mind of everyday clutter like appointments, unpaid bills and “Why is ‘Two and a Half Men’ still on the air?” I prefer to meditate sitting on the floor, eyes crossed and legs closed. Wait. Strike that. Reverse it.

Be the column. Imagine you’re the words themselves, gamboling across a field of white. Language is your music and you write the songs! If you’ve managed to see this in your mind’s eye, congratulations, you’re bananas – a requirement for being a columnist. Speaking of bananas, this would be a good time for a snack to nourish your brain for Step 2.

Step 2 – Brainstorming: Best done while walking from the computer to the coffeepot. Studies show that the heart palpitations caused by copious amounts of caffeine are worth the mental alertness a good cup (or five) of joe provides. Plus, it keeps you regular.

Write down as many topic ideas as you can without thinking too hard or editing your thoughts. Here’s what I conjured during my stream-of-consciousness brainstorm:

* Phrases that sound dirty but aren’t.

* Why I love coffee.

* Think of a topic, think of a topic, think of a topic!

* Gracias, Juan Valdez: An Ode to Coffee.

* Who put the bomp in the bomp bah bomp bah bomp?

* LA LA LA COFFEE!!!

OK, maybe I shouldn’t have had that eighth cup, but you get my gist.

Step 3 – Rejuvenation: Brainstorming is draining! Or maybe I’m just coming down from my caffeine high. Take a break. Or a nap. Also, this would be a good time for a snack.

Step 4 – Rough draft: Take that brilliant idea you came up with in Step 2 and craft a lead-in sentence. For example, “If you’re anything like me, you giggle at words like ‘angina,’ and ‘Uranus.’”

Step 5 – The Rewrite: Several days, naps and snacks later, I reopen the document for editing, changes and fine-tuning: “Titular. Pianist. Pupa. If you just giggled at those words, you’re an idiot like me.”

Step 6 – Final draft: Here goes … hit “Send.” It helps to include a note for your editor: “You might want to read this after your fifth cup of coffee.”

ALL ABOARD THE CHUCK WAGON

2011-02-11T00:52:00.000-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Fact: There is no chin behind Chuck Norris’ beard. There is only another fist.

Fact: Chuck Norris once roundhouse-kicked a $10 bill into 200 nickels.

Fact: Chuck Norris' calendar goes straight from March 31 to April 2 because NO ONE fools Chuck Norris.

It’s been a decade since “Walker, Texas Ranger” wrapped up its eight-year run on CBS, but Chuck Norris is far from “Missing in Action.” In an industry where popularity comes and goes faster than you can say, “Who let the dogs out?” Norris is indestructible. The 70-year-old martial arts master has remained in the public eye via reruns, infomercials and politics, but nowhere does his presence loom larger than on the Internet. In fact, if you search Google for “Chuck Norris getting his butt kicked,” the results will be zero. It just doesn't happen. (And in case you’re wondering who let the dogs out, it was Chuck Norris, of course.)

What started as a recurring gag on “Late Night with Conan O’Brien” in 2005 has snowballed into a seemingly endless avalanche of Chuck Norris “facts” – hilariously exaggerated claims that extol Norris’ strength, manliness and all-around awesomeness to epic proportions. An exercise in hyperbole rivaling the tall tales of Paul Bunyan, these far-fetched, fabricated factoids note Norris’ influence in many disciplines:

* Academics: For a perfect SAT score, write “Chuck Norris” for every answer.
* Agriculture: Crop circles are Chuck Norris' way of telling the world that sometimes corn needs to lie down.
* Astronomy: Outer space exists because it's afraid to be on the same planet with Chuck Norris.
* Geography: The Bermuda Triangle was called the Bermuda Square until Chuck Norris roundhouse-kicked one of the corners off.
* Law: There are four legal methods of execution in the U.S.: Lethal injection, gas chamber, electric chair and Chuck Norris.
* Literature: Chuck Norris doesn’t read, he just stares books down until they surrender the information he needs.
* Paranormal Studies: Ghosts are the result of Chuck Norris killing people faster than The Grim Reaper can process them.
* Sports: Chuck Norris doesn't bowl strikes, he just knocks down one pin and the other nine faint.

Why does Norris rate such veneration? Why not fellow stone-faced tough guy Charles Bronson? Why not similarly acting-challenged B-movie martial artists Jean-Claude Van Damme or Steven Seagal? Heck, why not MacGyver, who could use a pinecone, some string and a bottle cap to build an anti-Chuck Norris machine?!

In a Washington Post article, Norris’ publicist offered his (completely unbiased, of course) opinion, attributing the cult of Chuck to the star’s “consistent persona.” In other words, Norris has played pretty much the same guy for almost 40 years and his fans are OK with that.

The man himself finds the phenomenon amusing for the most part, which is a good thing because who’d want to get on his bad side? After all, there used to be a street named after him, but it was changed because nobody crosses Chuck Norris and lives.

BRINGING HOME THE BACON

2011-01-28T22:08:00.004-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Once upon a time, bacon was just a tasty meat, usually eaten in fried form or used as an ingredient in other dishes, but in the past few years, it’s become a way of life. The cult of bacon – or “baconmania,” to use the media-coined term – is especially prevalent in the U.S., where devotees have declared themselves a “Bacon Nation.”

Besides the traditional dishes, there’s now bacon bubble gum; chocolate-covered bacon; bacon donuts, cupcakes and cookies; baconnaise; bacon ice cream; bacon-infused vodka; and bacon soda. Only a true porkaholic would be pigheaded enough to try the Bacon Explosion – two pounds of bacon wrapped around a two-pound brick of barbecued sausage. (Comes with free triple-bypass surgery.)

The madness doesn’t stop with food and drink. There’s also bacon air freshener; bacon floss and toothpaste; bacon lip balm; and bacon band-aids. And if you have trouble getting up the morning after a bacon bender, the “Wake n’ Bacon” alarm clock will rouse you with the aroma of sizzling bacon.

Bacon has even woven itself into the fabric of pop culture and entertainment from music and TV to art and fashion. Before Lady Gaga's meat dress came the bacon bra. What appears to be merely an avant-garde undergarment becomes a tasty treat after an hour in the sun! Bacon is a recurring character on the popular Nickelodeon show, “iCarly,” seen most often in the hands and mouth of the forever-famished Sam Puckett, a girl so passionate about pork that she smuggles it into homeroom, accepts it as a bribe and once belonged to a Bacon of the Month club. ("You ever had Bolivian bacon? It changes you.")

Several songs mention bacon in passing, e.g., The Beatles’ “Piggies” and The Captain and Tennille’s “Muskrat Love,” but there’s a rasher of lesser-known tunes devoted entirely to bacon. Two of my favorites are Big Cheese’s “Gimme Dat Bacon,” and “Addicted to Bacon” by Trey Hugueley and Chuck Vail, both posted on YouTube.

Speaking of bacon on the Internet, there are countless blogs devoted to the prized pork – Mr.Baconpants.com is one – boasting everything from bacon news, reviews and events to bacon fashions, recipes and products. Bacon-flavored Diet Coke, anyone?

What is it about bacon that makes people go hog wild?

Culinary experts say it’s a comfort food that conjures fond memories. Academic types say bacon’s six ingredient types of umami (fancypants way of saying “deliciousness”), cause an addictive neurochemical response. As an experienced baconologist myself, I agree with Homer Simpson, who said it simplest and best: “Mmm … bacon.”

The word on Meat Street is that baconmania is dwindling, but that’s just health-nut hogwash. Bacon never dies … it just shrivels up.

CONFLICT RESOLUTION FOR CONFLICTING RESOLUTIONS

2011-01-14T09:44:00.001-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Mark Twain said, “New Year’s Day now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week, you can begin paving hell with them as usual.” It’s the middle of the month and I’m sure a lot of folks already have proven Twain right.

Each year, people charge into the New Year with more determination than a bull at a red cape convention, setting goals for their health, finances and relationships with the best of intentions. And each year, many of these same people find their actions in polar opposition to their intentions after a few weeks, months, or in some cases, mere days.

I’m not a big fan of resolutions; I prefer to make positive changes whenever life calls for it. But I realize many folks view a new year as a new start, so here’s a word of advice – actually, four words: Set the bar lower. By following my tips for a few of the most common annual resolutions, you can keep those goals attainable. Warning: These suggestions are not kid-tested, mother-approved or inspected by No. 12, nor do four out of five dentists recommend them.

Does your quest for better health include going to bed earlier? Before hitting the sack, set your clock to Pacific Standard Time – e.g., if you go to bed at 10 p.m., turn the big hand back to 7 p.m., and voila! Three extra hours of Z’s. By the time you wake up – say, 6 a.m. (3 a.m. Pacific), it will be the next morning in Brisbane and you’ll have gained a whole day of rest!

Want to attend church more often? Get a schedule of potlucks and prayer breakfasts within a 10-mile radius. As a lifelong Baptist, I can tell you from personal experience, these events will keep you in the Lord’s house more than your own. Of course, this could result in you breaking the most common New Year’s resolution – to lose weight – so you might want to stick to the Communion circuit.

Which brings us to the never-ending Battle of the Bulge. For many of us, it’s a lifelong fight and frankly, my love handles are winning. While I avidly support good eating habits and physical fitness, I also know how discouraging it is to find the only weight you’ve lost is the scale you chucked out the window when the digital display read, “One at a time, please.”

In stopping the cycle of self-defeat, it’s important to remember that pounds don’t just come from fat, muscle, tissues and organs. Ever weighed your clothes? Those suckers are heavy, especially in winter! Switch to lightweight fabrics and those paper shoes they give you in the hospital. Shed your underwear if necessary. After all, many no-talent starlets have become famous by doing the same!

THE YEAR IN REVIEW REVUE

2010-12-31T11:43:00.001-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

As we stand on the precipice of 2011, looking back on the Entertainment Year That Was, one thing is painfully evident: By and large, the rich and famous are nutty, and the fans who make them richer and famouser are even nuttier.

Walk with me on my annual stroll down memory lane and remember the highs and lows, triumphs and woes of The Beautiful People, especially those who engaged in some not-so-beautiful behavior. Sung to the tune of “It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” this ditty is suitable for all ages, anytime, anywhere. Feel free to belt it out in public – the grocery store, school, church – but don’t blame me if you get ejected, expelled or excommunicated.

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

It’s the most ponder-ful time of the year!
When we review the news
Of celebrities whose
Antics we booed and cheered!
It’s the most ponder-ful time of the year!

The recap-cappiest season of all!
Who got hitched, who got ditched?
Who went broke or got rich?
Whose high jinks did appall?
The recap-cappiest season of all!

“Jersey Shore” – looky, looky! – at overtanned Snooki!
And that dimwit we know as The Sitch!
Every cast member’s face was all over the place
And Jwoww? Hey, wow, she’s such a … witch!

We were plagued by “Bieber Fever” this year!
Fangirls fainted and screamed
For this pubescent dream
With the haircut we jeered!
We were plagued by “Bieber Fever” this year!

The songbirds on “Glee” dominated TV
With Jane Lynch and her humor so dry!
In her red jogging gear, Sue Sylvester struck fear
In the body of McKinley High!

Betty White made a big comeback this year!
When it seemed “SNL”
Soon would ring its death knell
Hostess Betty appeared!
Golden Girl brought back the laughter this year!

Viewers started rebellin’
When “Idol” got Ellen
She’s awesome, but not in that role!
And they really cried “foul” when that grump Simon Cowell
Announced that he was leaving the show!

L.A. cops worked hard in two thousand ten!
Paris Hilton played dumb
Claimed the drugs looked like gum
Lindsay Lohan … again!
L.A. cops worked hard in two thousand ten!

Cher’s kid caused quite a stir;
Printing presses did whir
When her daughter’s news got back to them
Some folks found it outrageous, but some called it courageous
When Chaz became HIM ‘stead of HER!

Tiger found himself bleeding
And quickly retreating
When caught swinging off the golf course
His indiscreet cheating earned him a sound beating
As well as a costly divorce!

We bade farewell to some legends this year:
Lena Horne, Dennis Hopper
Blake Edwards, Lynn Redgrave
Lots more we held dear!
Yes, we lost several bright stars this past year.

Goodbye, lovely June Cleaver
From “Leave it to Beaver”
Gary Coleman’s death gave quite a jar
Same goes for Corey Haim – both were once household names;
Two of Hollywood’s biggest child stars.

So please join me again this time next year!
We’ll reflect, retrospect
Speculate, contemplate,
All the star news we hear!
Tune in same time and same channel next year!

HARK! THE SCARLET (OR GREEN) LETTER SINGS

2010-12-17T18:44:00.002-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Happy holidays, readers!

Just wanted to share with you my yearly holiday letter – you know, the one in which I ooze joy and season’s greetings, and point out that I have a bigger house/car/income than you, that I’m spending Christmas in Aruba, and that my super-prodigy wonderspawn make your honor-roll kids look like “Dumb and Dumber.”

Oh, wait … I live in a one-bedroom apartment, drive a 14-year-old car and have no children, so that’s definitely not MY holiday letter! But we all know someone who mass-mails those annual missives (I call ‘em “brag bulletins”) that give a play-by-maddening-play recap of the last 11 months in their incredibly awesomer-than-yours life. They spout geysers of love, glad tidings, and wishes for a prosperous new year, but often they serve to boast about impressive job promotions, luxurious new homes and genius offspring – and to remind us of all the things we didn’t achieve in 2010.

Folded inside deceptively festive Christmas cards, they lay in wait to ambush us like single-spaced, double-sided, three-page ninjas. They’re typed in microscopic font on red or green stationery, and chock-full of corny prose, cutesy kid stories and in some cases, outlandish claims that don’t just stretch the truth but make fib-flavored taffy out of it:

“We are so proud of Madison, who had a very productive year. During a break between volunteering with the Peace Corps in Malawi and building houses with Habitat for Humanity, she finished her second novel, received straight A’s – well, one was an A-minus because she missed two days to host a fundraiser for the Foundation for Kittens Without Mittens. Nevertheless, she found time to attend her fourth-grade graduation.

“Chase turned 5 in June. For his birthday, he received his first set of LEGO building blocks, which he used to build a scale model cathedral with a fully-functioning baptismal font! He showed off his architectural talents on a CNN special about gifted children and was subsequently commissioned to assist in the renovation of Notre Dame, as well as given honorary citizenship of Vatican City by The Pope.

“Last, but not least, we learned this morning that we won the lottery for $382 million!”

Fortunately, the one holiday letter I’ve received thus far is from friends whose updates make me feel pretty good about my own life:

“Clem moved out in May to live with a bunch of roommates in Leavenworth. We manage to visit him once a month, usually on Saturday or Sunday. He says the food is decent, but he’s sick of body cavity searches and making license plates.

“The baby is 18 months and talking up a storm. His vocabulary consists mostly of “No!” and “Mine!” and assorted grunts and barking.”

As I wait dreading more seasonal scribblings from friends and family, I invite you, dear readers, to fill my email box with holiday cheer by forwarding your own holiday letters. I never pass up a chance to read good fiction.

THE 12 SLAYS OF CHRISTMAS

2010-12-03T20:58:00.003-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Say the phrase “Christmas movies” and many people think of classics like “It’s A Wonderful Life, “A Christmas Carol,” and “Miracle on 34th Street.” Visions of more farcical films dance in other folks’ heads – “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation,” “Elf” and “Bad Santa,” to name a few.

My personal pick is “A Christmas Story,” which TBS airs each year as a 24-hour marathon, allowing me to spend Christmas Eve following Ralphie Parker over and over on his quest for “an official Red Ryder carbine-action 200-shot-range model air rifle with a compass in the stock and this thing which tells time.”

But there’s a segment of the viewing audience whose yuletide yearnings lead them down a more twisted path, where Santa slays instead of sleighs and his elves wield hammers for purposes more nefarious than toy-making. For these folks, ‘tis the season to be gory and shirk the traditional fare for more horrifying holiday films – and I don’t mean Arnold Schwarzenegger’s “Jingle All the Way.”

An in-depth survey of respected horror movie experts – by which I mean, “slightly disturbing conversation with a 16-year-old who probably should be heavily medicated” – turned up a dozen recommendations for those planning to have themselves a scary little Christmas:

1. “Tales From the Crypt” (1972) – In the segment “All Through the House,” Joan Collins’ Christmas gift to her husband is a fireplace poker upside the head. While trying to dispose of the body, she’s terrorized by a homicidal Santa trying to break into her house. It’s British so it’s bloody (literally) brilliant.

2. “Black Christmas” (1974) – The terrifying phone calls are coming from – where else? – INSIDE THE HOUSE in this Canadian creeper that’s widely regarded as the best Christmas horror movie ever made.

3. “Silent Night, Bloody Night” (1974) – This predecessor of the ’80s slasher genre doesn’t really revolve around Christmas; it features a killer taking revenge for something that happened four decades earlier on Christmas Eve.

4. “Christmas Evil” (1980) – Harry loves Christmas so much that he dresses as Santa and keeps tabs on who's naughty or nice … and woe unto the latter!

5. “Don't Open Till Christmas” (1984) – It’s Santa who’d better watch out in this British slashfest!

6. “Christmas Nightmare” (2001) – After witnessing the murder of a presidential candidate just before Christmas, a campaign manager targeted for assassination is taken with his wife to a safe (translation: haunted) house miles from civilization.

7. “Silent Night, Deadly Night” (1984) – For committed fans – or fans who should be committed – this movie’s main character dresses up as Santa and kills people in a variety of beastly (but undeniably creative) ways.

But wait – derrrrre’s more! Four more, to be exact. Numbers nine through 12 are sequels to “Silent Night, Deadly Night” released in 1986, 1989, 1990 and 1992. According to my teenaged source, the dreadfulness of each installment rises exponentially with the body count. Case in point: Part V features a toy maker named Joe Petto (get it?).

Watch at your own risk, as these movies could cause many an insomnia-plagued night. Then again, maybe it’d be safer to stay awake. After all, he sees you when you’re sleeping.

THE GHOSTS OF CHRISTMAS POEMS PAST

2010-11-19T14:24:00.001-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

'Tis a month before Christmas, the traditional time
When I herald the season in lyrical rhyme.
A takeoff on Clement Clarke Moore’s classic verse,
Two thousand and six was the year it ran first.

That first column mocked the melee in the malls –
Customers decking each other while decking the halls!
Rushing through stores like a bat out of hell,
Almost dogpiling Santa Claus, ringing his bell!

More rapid than eagles those shoppers did bound
To be first in line at a shop across town.
Pushing and shoving and being obnoxious,
Grabbing iPods and Playstation 3’s and X-Boxes!

Oh-seven’s verse talked about shopping online –
No mob scenes, no price checks, no tired child’s whine.
No lifting a finger ‘cept clicking the mouse
Like Santa, Fed Ex brings gifts straight to your house!

No long checkout lines and no NASCAR-like races,
No more zooming around searching for parking spaces.
No hundred-pound packages weighing you down,
No schlepping to every darn store in the town!

Two thousand and eight took a look back in time
Before techno-gadgetry entered its prime.
Back then, we had toys with eternal shelf-lives;
Now each year, an updated version arrives!

In our day, we marveled at dump trucks and dolls,
Etch-a-Sketch, Lego and spongy Nerf balls.
If we ran out of batteries, we weren’t defeated;
Our imaginations were all that we needed.

Then technology reared its computerized head,
Sending sales that once flourished deep down in the red.
The playthings ensconced in the Toy Hall of Fame
Took a backseat and I know where to place the blame:

On VTech! On Leapster!
On Elmo and Mindflex!
On Wii and 360,
On Wall-E and D-Rex!
At the top of the shelves!
In the toy stores and malls!
They flash away, flash away,
Flash away all!

In oh-nine, I bemoaned the state of our nation:
Out of work, out of cash, economic stagnation.
Tight purse strings made Christmas a challenge for many
Who balanced their checkbooks down to the last penny.

As children wrote long lists of treasures assorted,
Their parents lost sleep wond’ring how to afford it.
For the undying wish of most moms and most dads
Is to provide their kids with what they never had.

But some did arise early on Christmas morn
No presents bedecking a tree so forlorn.
Yet many still offered praise, glory and thanks,
‘Cos their hearts were more full than their wallets and banks.

And so, this year’s message echoes that from the last:
Let’s not mourn the ghosts of those Christmases past.
Rejoice in the moment, not in yuletides of yore,
For the present's a gift not sold in any store.

Exchanging gifts is one aim of this season,
But always remember the prevailing reason:
Joy and good cheer aren’t encrypted or coded,
And love is a heartsong than can’t be downloaded.

IF TV TITLES TOLD THE TRUTH

2010-11-05T21:08:00.001-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

So it’s late at night and I’m flipping through the channels, when I happen upon a program called “Inside the Milky Way.” I’m excited and intrigued because I’ve always wondered how one candy bar could be so chocolaty and so nougat-y at the same time. Imagine my dismay upon learning the show actually was about stars and planets and nebulae and a bunch of other space junk. Talk about a letdown – I was crestfallen by the discovery that “clusters” referred to a group of stars rather than the nutty goodness of a Snickers bar.

Oh, sure, I could have read the onscreen program description, but that would require a degree of effort exerted only by those who aren’t pathologically sloth-like sluggards. (Which is also why I didn’t change the channel.) After watching the show, as well as the subsequent “Drugs, Inc.” (NOT a documentary about the pharmacy business), I felt disgruntled with TV networks for not making program titles more truthful. If I had my druthers, viewers would know exactly what they were getting with just a glance at the channel guide.

For instance, “The View” would be renamed “Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah” and “Dancing with the Stars” would be called “Dancing with Mostly D-List Entertainers and Athletes.” See where I’m going with this?

Here are a few more examples of what program descriptions would look like if I were running the show(s):

“$#*! My Dad Says” – “Fourteen More Minutes of Fame Than It Deserves”

“CSI: Miami” – “The David Caruso School of Bad Acting Presents ‘Sunglasses Off, Sunglasses On.’”

“Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?” – “Shamed By Children On National TV.”

“Maury” – “Breeders & Cheaters”

“Law & Order: Los Angeles” – “Really? Another One? Are You In Competition With ‘CSI’?”

“The Real Housewives of Orange County” – “Rich Shrews With Way Too Much Free Time.”

“Ugly Betty” – “In Show Biz, Ugly Girls Are Just Pretty Girls With Glasses and/or Braces.”

“Beverly Hills 90210” – “Thirty-Year-Olds Playing 18-Year-Olds Who Talk Like 40-Year-Olds”

“Happy Days” – “Whatever Happened To Chuck, The Oldest Cunningham Kid, Who Went Upstairs and Never Came Back Down, and Really, Fonzie, Aren’t You A Bit Old To Be Hanging With Teenagers?”

“The Nanny” – “The Lady Whose Voice Peeled Paint Off The Walls.”

“Last Call With Carson Daly” – “I Know … I Thought I Was Cancelled, Too!”

HOW TO LOOK LIKE THE BOO-TIFUL PEOPLE

2010-10-22T09:03:00.002-05:00

By BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Throughout this month, several websites have published lists of this year’s most popular celebrity Halloween costumes, along with how-to guides for the little people who want to look like the beautiful people. But what they don’t tell you is that you’ll need the salary of a celebrity to afford all the bells and whistles they suggest.

Well, have no fear, Halloweenies! If there’s one thing I’ve learned during this Great Recession, it’s how to stretch a dollar. By thinking outside the box, you can transform into a Hollywood hotshot using items found in your own homes, borrowed from friends, or easily obtained elsewhere on the cheap!

Here’s my quick ‘n’ simple how-to guide for a few of this year’s most popular celebrity costumes:

Tiger Woods – You’ll need a polo shirt (preferably red), black pants, black shoes, black baseball cap, and one white, left-hand glove. Then bash yourself about the head and face with a sack of nickels. For the complete Tiger look, you’ll need these accessories: Band-Aids, a cell phone full of naughty texts, and a hot blonde who can swing a mean golf club.

Lady Gaga – In addition to the requisite blonde wig, this costume can be created by covering your body with pretty much any item not originally intended as clothing, e.g., stuffed animals, live animals, Christmas ornaments, hood ornaments, baby dolls, baby humans, faux ice crystals, Folger’s crystals, candy wrappers, gangsta rappers, shrink wrap, Saran Wrap, bubble-wrap, or actual BUBBLES – in which case, you should hire an assistant with strong lungs to replenish your costume regularly so you don’t end up showing everyone your tricks and treats! If you really want to be on the cutting edge of Gaga fashion, go for the now-famous meat dress. Just be sure your costume passes USDA inspection.

Snooki from “Jersey Shore” – While preheating tanning bed at 450° F, combine the following in small bowl: Orange juice and firmly packed brown sugar (one cup each), two tablespoons melted butter, one teaspoon dry mustard, and a pinch of allspice. Brush mixture evenly over entire body. Bake for 35 minutes or until skin is color and texture of an unlubricated catcher’s mitt.

Justin Bieber – The garb is simple: A white T-shirt under a black button-down shirt and black jeans so tight that if you break wind, you’ll blow the designer sneakers right off your feet. To achieve the teen popster’s trademark forward comb-over, forget going to some high-priced, high-falutin’ salon; there are less expensive ways to achieve The Bieber! If you have short hair, you can ride backward on a motorcycle at approximately 100 mph or have someone slap you on the back of the head until it appears as if your hair is trying to consume your face. Those with longer locks can tuck their tresses under a “Bruno” wig.

If these costumes require too much effort for you, I suggest you show up at your All Hallow’s Eve celebration in your PJ’s and spend the evening chain-smoking and shotgunning Mountain Dew. If anyone asks, “What are YOU supposed to be?” tell them – duh – you’re a freelance writer for the local paper!

COFFIN IT UP FOR THE ECONOMY

2010-10-08T01:18:00.001-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

In support of fellow columnist Tony Riazzi’s recent bid to bring the economy back from the dead by making this an all-vampires, all-the-time space, I’m grabbing the baton – or stake, as it were – and running with it.

In his Sept. 17 column, my colleague struck a gold mine with his idea to revive our anemic fiscal health. Just look at the way fans lap up “True Blood,” “The Vampire Diaries,” and of course, the beast that won’t die (for at least another two years, anyway), “Twilight.” With our finances in the red, it couldn’t hurt to pump a little blood into the nation’s pocketbook.

To that (grisly) end, I’ve taken up cryptwriting – er … scriptwriting, that is – and I’m shooting this list of pilots to major TV network VIPs (Vampires in Power):

“America's Most Vanted”
“A*S*H”
“The Big Fang Theory”
“Captain Fangaroo”
“The Cold and the Beautiful”
“CSI: Transylvania”
“Dawson's Crypt”
“Dora the Impaler”
“Friday Night Bites”
“The Golden Ghouls”
“How I Bit Your Mother”
“iSnarly” (On NECKelodeon, of course!)
“Maul in the Family”
“Name That Tomb”
“Nosferatu-and-a-Half Men”
“Kids Slay the Darndest Things”
“The Killmore Girls”
“Let's Stake a Deal”
“Pee-wee’s Slayhouse”

But this isn’t just art for art’s stake – uh, sake. Helping the economy rise from the ashes is serious – nay, GRAVE – business, so I can’t limit myself to the constraints of the small screen. Movie moguls (Mo-ghouls? Someone stop me!), look for these blockbusters coming soon to a studio near you:

“Bite Club” (What happens there STAYS there!)
“The Bloodsucker Proxy”
“The Count of Monte Crypto”
“Drac to the Future”
“Fang-Tasia”
“Follow the Bleeder”
“For Deader or Worse”
“Full Metal Casket”
“Gentlemen Prefer Blood” (Featuring the signature tune “Demons Are a Girl’s Best Friend”)
“Ghoul, Interrupted”
“The Good, The Vlad and The Ugly”
“Holywaterworld”
“Immortal Kombat”
“Lady and the Vamp”
“Little Miss Scared-of-Sunshine”
“A Parasite for Sore Eyes”
“Rebel Without a Cross”
“Undead Poets Society”
“Vampirates of the Caribbean”
“Wake Up and Smell the Coffin”

For the most rabid devourers of fang-oria, there’s the “Scar Wars” franchise, with such heart-stoppers as “The Vampire Strikes Back” and “Return of the Deadguy.”

Why stop with TV and movies? Might as well have all-vampires, all-the-time radio! More hits than you can shake a pointed stick at, all the music that DOES suck (literally!), including Katy Perry’s “Teenage Scream,” Lady Gaga showing us her puh-puh-puh-“Poker Fang,” The Beatles doing their bloody best on “With a Little Help From My Fiends,” Steve Miller Band’s “Abra-Cadaver,” the Frank Sinatra two-fer “The Lady is a Vamp” and “I’ve Got You Under My Skin,” plus all the best from the legendary Leech Boys!

Elton John could practically have his own station, with a VJ (Vamp Jockey, what else?) spinning hits like “Don’t Let the Sun Come Up On Me,” “Lucy in the Sky With Demons,” “Saturday Night’s Alright For Biting,” and “Don’t Go Staking My Heart.”

OK, I got a little carried away, but coming up with all this bleedin’ wordplay is a draining endeavor that makes me a little batty. I sure hope my effort to pick up the mantle (or “cape,” if you will) from Mr. Riazzi hasn’t been in vein and that I haven’t made a complete ash of myself.

2010-09-24T01:10:00.000-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

It’s officially autumn, and in anticipation of the day Jack Frost comes nipping at their noses, folks are squeezing out the last drops of summer in any way possible – last-minute canoeing excursions, barbecues, picnics, campouts, and of course, road trips. And no road trip longer than a couple of hours is complete without its own soundtrack.

There are road-ready songs like “Cruisin’” (Smokey Robinson); “Truckin'“ (Grateful Dead); “Running on Empty” (Jackson Browne); and the quintessential traveling trilogy, “Freebird” (Lynyrd Skynyrd), “Born to Run” (Bruce Springsteen) and “Born to Be Wild” (Steppenwolf.) While classics like these are worthy of any sojourner’s soundtrack, they’re also as obvious as a two-mile tailgater. So I dug deep into my music collection, which includes cassettes, 45’s and albums (you youngsters can email me for an explanation of those), to compile this list of 50 songs to get you tuned up for the road.

To stave off the phalanx of emails about songs I’ve overlooked (on second thought, phalanx away; maybe I’ll use ‘em in a column farther down the road – ha!), I’m sticking to tunes with titles referring specifically to surfaces paved for motor vehicle travel and/or the act of navigating said surfaces.

So, without further stalling (I slay me!), get your motors and your iPods runnin’ with this playlist:

1. “On the Road Again” (Willie Nelson)
2. “Hit the Road, Jack” (Ray Charles)
3. “Road Trippin'” (Red Hot Chili Peppers)
4. “The Road's My Middle Name” (Bonnie Raitt)
5. “Middle Of The Road” (Pretenders)
6. “Long and Winding Road” (The Beatles)
7. “The Road” (Jackson Browne)
8. “Holiday Road” (Lindsay Buckingham)
9. “King of the Road” (Roger Miller)
10. “Hit The Road & Go” (Johnny Cash)
11. “Hard Road to Travel” (Jimmy Cliff)
12. “There's a Rugged Road” (Shawn Colvin)
13. “Farther On Up The Road” (Bobby “Blue” Bland)
14. “Crossroads” (Eric Clapton)
15. “Road Back Home Again” (Cornershop)
16. “Road Buddy” (Dar Williams)
17. “Take Me Home, Country Roads” (John Denver)
18. “Open Road Song” (Eve 6)
19. “Road to Nowhere” (Talking Heads)
20. “Car Wheels on a Gravel Road” (Lucinda Williams)
21. “Ease on Down the Road” (From “The Wiz,” Diana Ross and Michael Jackson)
22. “Refuge of the Roads” (Joni Mitchell)
23. “Highway Song” (Blackfoot)
24. “Everyday is a Winding Road” (Sheryl Crow)
25. “Living on the Open Road” (Delaney and Bonnie)
26. “Rockin' Down the Highway” (Doobie Brothers)
27. “Roll On Down the Highway” (Bachman-Turner Overdrive)
28. “Endless Highway” (The Band)
29. “Lost Highway” (Bon Jovi)
30. “Three County Highway” (Indigo Girls)
31. “Queen of the Highway” (The Doors)
32. “Down the Highway” (Bob Dylan)
33. “This Highway's Mine” (Steve Earle)
34. “Lord of the Highway” (Joe Ely)
35. “Highway Chile” (Jimi Hendrix)
36. “Highway Blues” (Lightnin' Hopkins)
37. “Life is a Highway” (Tom Cochrane)
38. “Blue Highway” (Billy Idol)
39. “Ghost Towns Along the Highway” (John Mellencamp)
40. “Freeway of Love” (Aretha Franklin)
41. “Drive My Car” (The Beatles)
42. “Shut Up and Drive” (Rihanna) - Also known as “What Dad Says to Mom When She Insists on Stopping to Ask for Directions.”
43. “I Can't Drive 55” (Sammy Hagar)
44. “I Drove All Night” (Roy Orbison)
45. “Drivin’ My Life Away” (Eddie Rabbitt)
46. “Driving in the U.S. of A.” (Guided By Voices)
47. “Driving” (PJ Harvey)
48. “Driver's Seat” (Sniff ‘n’ The Tears)
49. “Behind the Wheel” (Depeche Mode)
50. “Jesus, Take the Wheel” (Carrie Underwood) - Also known as “What Mom Says to Dad After Three Hours of Him Yelling, “What the #&@*? Get Over! You’re Gonna Miss the Exit!”

PUTTING THE “BOOK” IN FACEBOOK

2010-09-10T20:13:00.002-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Last week, I finally succumbed to the shame of being an Official Grownup Person and owning not one, not two, but all four books in the “Twilight” sparkly-vampire series. Actually, my shame dates back to when I purchased the second book. See, after reading the first one out of curiosity about all the hoopla, it felt like I’d made a commitment and should follow through, and well, the library’s waiting list was too long and look, don’t judge me.

I tried unloading the books on Craigslist, but I couldn’t give the dang things away. Even leaving them in a basket full of kittens with a “Free to a good home” sign didn’t work, unless you define “success” as no kittens, a stolen basket, and a pile of books with, “Ha ha, nice try!” scrawled on the back of the sign.

Long story short, I donated the books to a library, where the teenage clerk chirped, “Oh, I hope your daughter loved these as much as I did!” OK, I’m exaggerating, but not by much. The “Twilight” series has taken a lot of flak – almost as much as anyone older than 17 who admits to having read them. Sure, it ain’t Shakespeare and Stephenie Meyer is no Anne Rice, but anything (within reason) that gets youngsters interested in reading is okay in my book (ha!). Sure, there are many young folks who still love to curl up with a good novel, but the reading habits of Generation Z (and at the least, the latter half of Y) have undeniably decreased as the use of electronic media has increased. What with texting and the MyBook and the FaceSpace, more young adults are fluent in QWERTY than in Kafka, whose seminal novella, “The Metamorphosis,” might be translated today as:

Gregor Samsa is WTF, theres a giant cockroach in my bed !!!1!!!1

Hey, I think I might be onto something! Perhaps translating time-honored classics into chatspeak and text-talk would make them more appealing to younger generations. Who wouldn’t be intrigued by this version of Margaret Mitchell’s “Gone with the Wind”:

Scarlett O’Hara is OMG Rhett wut am i gonna do if u leave? :-(
Rhett Butler commented on Scarlett O'Hara's status: "whatevs, babe...i dont give a d@m."

Or Homer’s “The Odyssey”:

Odysseus is a fan of Dr. Scholl’s Blister Treatment.
Odysseus commented on his own status: "Dude it feels like ive been walkin for TEN. FREAKING YEARS!!!!!"

And of course, the requisite freshman-year Shakespeare assignment:

Juliet is now friends with Friar Laurence.
Friar Laurence commented on Juliet's status: "Romeo's gonna be soooo surprised when he gets ur msg LOL!"
The Messenger is playin Farmville, so imma be a lil L8.
Romeo joined the group Poisin-Drinking Emo Boys.
Juliet is Romeo??? r u OK??? helloooo?
Juliet became a fan of Dames with Daggers.
Romeo and Juliet are no longer online.

Who knows? Maybe the suspense and desire to know the whole story would inspire kids to read the actual books!
Belinda M. Paschal likes this.

A CHARACTER BY ANY OTHER NAME …

2010-08-27T08:35:00.001-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip – that started from this tropic port, aboard this tiny ship. The mate was a mighty sailin’ man, The Skipper brave and sure. Five passengers set sail that da—whoa, wait a minute … what kind of name is The Skipper? Were his parents named Mr. and Mrs. The Skipper Sr.? Was he listed in grade-school attendance books as “Skipper, The”? Surely, his mother didn’t stand on the porch yelling, “It’s suppertime, The Skipper!”

Or maybe it’s a title, like “The Queen” or “The Pope.” In that case, he’d have to have a real name. Surely, he must have revealed it to Gilligan, who was, after all, his “little buddy.” Well, wonder no more! Thanks to a top-secret, cutting-edge technological gadget that allows audio enhancement of even the most feathery of whispers (fine, I Googled it), I discovered that The Skipper sailed into existence as Jonas Grumby.

I also learned that The Professor’s real name was Roy Hinkley and that “Lovey” was merely Thurston Howell III’s pet name for his wife, Eunice. What’s with all the pseudonyms? Were they really castaways or participants in the Witness Protection Program? (Incidentally, it’s never been confirmed or disproven than Gilligan’s first name was Willie. In fact, speculation continues as to whether Gilligan was his first or last name.)

Here’s a roll call of several fictional characters whose real or full names aren’t known to many besides the most ardent fanboys or groupie girls:

On “The Simpsons” – Montgomery is actually Monty Burns’ middle name; his first name is Charles. Sideshow Bob’s birth certificate reads “Robert Underdunk Terwilliger,” while Krusty the Clown signs his checks as “Herschel Schmoikel Krustofsky.” The Comic Book Guy? He’s Jeff Albertson, though that wasn’t the name of choice for creator Matt Groening, who imagined the character as “Louis Lane.”

* It’s a lot easier to sing, “We’re off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz,” than to tie your tongue around, “the wonderful Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkel Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs,” which is the Wizard’s given name.

* Mr. Clean has a seldom-used first name, and it ain’t “Mr.” It’s “Veritably,” which came from a “Give Mr. Clean a First Name” promotion in the early 60’s.

* Zorro is actually Don Diego de la Vega, which takes a lot longer to write with a sword and doesn’t look nearly as cool as that slashy “Z.”

* On “The A-Team,” Mr. T’s character, B.A. Baracus, let it be known that the initials stood for “Bad Attitude.” I pity the fool who dared to call him by his birth name: Bosco.

* If you didn’t know that the policeman in Monopoly is named Officer Edgar Mallory, do not pass GO, do not collect $200, go directly to jail!

* And who is Cap’n Crunch when the S.S. Guppy is in dock and he’s not protecting his cereal from Jean LaFoote the Barefoot Pirate? The other sea dogs know him simply as “Horatio.”

* Last but not least, Norville Rogers was better known as Shaggy of the “Scooby Doo” gang. Makes sense … “Rut-roh, Rorville!” would sound pretty silly.

* THIS JUST IN! Charles Montgomery Burns was actually born Happy Burns to penniless parents in middle America!

FALL BACK INTO SCHOOL

2010-07-30T08:27:00.001-05:00

BELINDA M. PASCHAL

So I’ve been thinking about going back to school at the ripe old age of twenty-ni—uh, thirty-sev—um … let’s just say I’m older than the average “traditional” student. Since I started tossing the idea around, I’ve had flashbacks of retirement-age Rodney Dangerfield in “Back to School,” a movie I hated when I first saw it in 1986, but have since upgraded to “doesn’t TOTALLY suck, but Rodney still gets no respect for this one.”

Then I got to thinking about the many films revolving around institutions of higher learning and came up with more than you can shake a yardstick at. I divided my mental list, reduced it to its lowest terms and I now present the remainder: 10 of my favorite films about lessons learned both in and out of the classroom.

“To Sir With Love” (1967) – The quintessential parable of the dedicated teacher winning over a class of rebellious malcontents. Standouts include Sidney Poitier as Mark Thackeray (“Sir” to his pupils), Judy Geeson as Pamela Dare, and Lulu’s hit song sharing the film’s title.

“Fast Times at Ridgemont High” (1982) – With a cast of future stars including a young Sean Penn as stoner surf-rat Jeff Spicoli, “Fast Times” taught us words like “wuss,” and “gnarly,” plus that the settlers “left this England place 'cause it was bogus.”

“The Breakfast Club” (1985) – Most of us identified with at least one of these five student caricatures (“a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal”) who meet in Saturday detention and find they have more in common than they thought. (As a freshman, I was a less-nerdy version of Anthony Michael Hall’s “brain”; by graduation, I’d morphed into Ally Sheedy’s not-so-insane “basket case.”)

“School Daze” (1988) – Spike Lee trains his gimlet eye on intra-racial color discrimination and Greek vs. non-Greek conflict among students at a historically black college. With musical numbers!

“Stand and Deliver” (1988) – This is the movie “Dangerous Minds” wanted to be. Though both are based on true stories, Edward James Olmos is infinitely more credible than Michelle Pfeiffer as a teacher who transforms underachievers into honor roll students.

“Lean on Me” (1989) – Morgan Freeman as tyrannical-but-dedicated principal Joe Clark saves this from being just another fact-based tale of an inner-city miracle worker.

“Dazed and Confused” (1993) – Imagine what “The Breakfast Club” got up to after detention and it might look something like this peek into the lives of nerds, jocks, stoners, cheerleaders and that creepy guy who graduated five years ago but still hangs around the high school.

“Rushmore” (1999) – Bill Murray and Jason Schwartzman make extracurricular activities more hilarious than giving wedgies to Chess Club geeks.

“Mean Girls” (2004) – One of the many reasons I love Tina Fey, who turned a nonfiction book about cliques into one of the smartest, funniest teen movies of the decade (starring Lindsay Lohan, pre-downward spiral). You go, Glen Coco!

“Napoleon Dynamite” (2004) – Gawky Napoleon has one goal during his senior year: To ask his secret crush to the prom. Lessons learned: Girls only want boyfriends who have great skills and D-Qwon has the dopest dance grooves.

CLOTHES-MINDED ABOUT BRANGELINA’S BABY

2010-07-16T10:53:00.001-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

A bunch of folks are having a conniption over a certain oft-photographed celebrity’s unconventional fashion choices. “Appalling!” they crow. “Why can’t she dress like a NORMAL girl?” they caw.

Who could “she” be? Lady Gaga? Kristen Stewart? Serena Williams? No, no, no and no.

Despite having her face plastered all over websites, magazines, tabloids and newspapers around the world, this star hasn’t had a hit song, starred in any blockbuster movies, or won an international sports championship. In fact, this blonde beauty is probably just beginning to master the fine art of coloring inside the lines. (No, it’s not Paris or Britney, either.)

Meet Shiloh Jolie-Pitt, gender-bending, tomboy-chic fashionista … and thumb-sucking 4-year-old. Spawned from the two-headed entity known as Brangelina, little Shiloh is making headlines with her short-cropped locks and preference for britches over ball gowns. According to Mama Jolie, the tot “dresses like a little dude … she likes track suits, she likes regular suits. She likes to dress like a boy.”

So what’s the big deal about a little girl who likes pants and button-down shirts? No doubt it’s Jolie’s follow-up comment that “she wants to be a boy. So we had to cut her hair. She thinks she's one of the brothers."

I repeat, “What’s the big deal?”

Maybe it’s that the idea that a child so young adamantly refuses to conform to traditional gender roles. Perhaps it’s the notion that her parents are comfortable with and accepting of her choices. Or maybe the thought that Shiloh’s male-identified persona might not change as she grows up brings out people’s fears about their own children.

When I was Shiloh’s age, I, too, wanted to be a boy. Like her, I grew up with two older brothers whom I idolized and imitated. Had I been dolled up in some frilly nonsense, there’s no way I could have executed an effective knee-drop while playing “Big-Time Wrestling.” Plus, I envied my brothers’ never having to run home from the playground to answer a call of nature. (My attempts to imitate them in that respect were less successful.)

Yeah, I wanted to be a boy. I also wanted to be a Muppet and one of the Supremes. Four-year-olds are barely beginning to identify as humans, much less grapple with gender identity.

We have no idea who this preschooler will be as she matures – a diehard tomboy or a hearts-and-flowers girly-girl. And if she DOES turn out to be transgender, like Cher’s daughter, Chastity, who’s now her son named Chaz, I say better an alive, well-adjusted man with loving, accepting parents than a self-hating woman who, worst-case scenario, finds life not worth living.

Shiloh’s apparel won’t change the fact that her parents see her as “one of the goofiest, most playful people you’ll ever meet” instead of just a haircut and boy’s clothing. If anything, she’ll grow up to be charismatic and independent-minded, instead of just another brick in the wall, so hey, people … leave the kid alone.

DE-FUSING THE FOURTH OF JULY

2010-07-02T11:19:00.000-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

It’s that time again, when we prepare to celebrate our independence from the nation that ultimately would give us The Beatles, “Absolutely Fabulous,” and Cadbury chocolate (well done!), along with The Spice Girls and “Jerry Springer: The Opera” (try again), and Russell Brand (jury’s still out).

That’s right, it’s almost Independence Day, when we thank our lucky stars (and stripes) that we’re eating hot dogs and apple pie instead of bangers and mash. And of course, this holiday isn’t complete without the requisite Fourth of July fireworks.

Actually, “Fourth of July fireworks” is a misnomer, since packaged pyrotechnics start cropping up in pretty much any store where it’s legal (with the word “legal” being left to the proprietor’s interpretation) long before the actual holiday.

“Welcome to Bargain Bonanza! Would you like to try our new super-duper-sized Combustible Carnival of Calamity?”

“No, thanks … I’m just buying a pack of gum and these ceramic bobbleheads.”

“How about our mega-giganto-normous Barrel of Burnable Bombshells?”

“No, just the gum and the bobbleheads. Ooh! And this half-price, tie-dyed toaster cozy! That’s all.”

“Ah, c’mon … it’s the Fourth of July!”

“Actually, sir, it’s June 12.”

You get the picture.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got nothing against feting America’s freedom and lionizing our liberty. I do, however, bristle at being besieged by bombs bursting in air for weeks before and after the Fourth of July. And on the actual holiday, I prefer to watch the colorful aerial exhibits from a safe, non-flammable distance, not packed with dozens of other spectators in some cul-de-sac in an unfamiliar neighborhood. (“Cul-de-sac,” by the way, is French for “no escape route.”)

But seriously, folks, safety is of the utmost importance when dealing with fireworks. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, approximately 10,000 people are treated in hospital emergency rooms every year for fireworks-related injuries, and most of these incidents involve children. (According to me, it’s mighty strange that this statistic comes from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.)

So if you’re going to be firing off gunpowder-propelled projectiles this Fourth of July, remember to be safe, sane and sensible, so you don’t end up with scars and stripes forever. And be glad you’ll never see these bad-idea fireworks and aerial displays at a store near you:

Red, White and Blew a Finger Off

Ba-Rocket Obama

Aimlessly Roamin' Candles

REALLY Hot Pockets

Lady(GaGa)fingers

I Can't Believe It's Not Napalm!

The Wailin' Palin

The Star-Spangled Band-Aid®

Apocalypse POW!

Skanky Doodle

Five Charred Dud

Pop! Goes the Diesel

Rock, Paper, Blisters

Six Degrees of Amputation

As the World Burns

Botulism Rockets

Ring Around the Rosie O’Donnell

Sweet Landmine of Liberty

Fatalcrackers

The Emergency Roominator

HOT FILMS IN THE SUMMERTIME

2010-06-18T11:11:00.000-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Looking for a cinematic treat while beating the heat and kicking up your feet? Cool your heels while watching these summer-themed flicks from the last few decades:

“Summertime” (1955) – Katharine Hepburn was nominated for an Oscar for her turn as a vacationing spinster who falls for a married antique dealer in Italy.
Memorable quote: The film’s tagline: “She came to Venice as a tourist … and went home a woman.”

“Suddenly, Last Summer” (1959) – A stellar cast (Elizabeth Taylor, Katharine Hepburn and Montgomery Clift) lights up Gore Vidal’s somber adaptation of the Tennessee Williams play known for such then-verboten themes as homosexuality, cannibalism and lobotomy.
Memorable quote: “We would carve each day like a piece of sculpture, leaving behind us a trail of days like a gallery of sculpture until suddenly, last summer.”

“The Endless Summer” (1966) – The “ultimate surf movie” follows avid boarders to California, Hawaii, Tahiti, Australia, New Zealand, Senegal, Ghana, Nigeria and South Africa in search of the perfect wave.
Memorable quote: “Malibu Beach, California, famous for its Malibu Outriggers, surfing, and girls. THIS is a girl … and for those of you who are maladjusted, THIS is a Malibu Outrigger.”

“Summer of ’42” (1971) – A bittersweet coming-of-age film in which the lovely Jennifer O’Neill’s main concern is her soldier husband’s fate in WWII, while three hormonal teens’ main concern is the lovely Jennifer O’Neill.
Memorable quote (as the boys gawk at a medical journal about sex): “Before I saw these pictures, I didn’t think it was possible, either.”

“Corvette Summer” (1978) – A high schooler’s automotive passion leads to a dream job as a Corvette mechanic, but he’s soon embroiled in the bossman’s dirty dealings. (Believe it or not, Mark Hamill DIDN’T do this for the money; he was already rolling in “Star Wars” dough!)
Memorable quote: “Ya wanna hitchhike, ya gotta stick somethin’ out.”

“One Crazy Summer” (1986) – An aspiring cartoonist (John Cusack) and his pals come to the aid of a singer (Demi Moore, back when Ashton was 8) to save her family property from developers.
Memorable quote: (While reading the obituaries) “You ever notice how people die in alphabetical order?”

“I Know What You Did Last Summer” (1997) – Four teenagers try to cover up a hit-and-run, but SOMEONE knows what happened. And they’re out for revenge.
Memorable quote: “We should have a plan. Angela Lansbury always had a plan.”

“Summer of Sam” (1999) – Spike Lee’s spin on the “Son of Sam” murders during the summer of 1977 centers on the residents of a South Bronx neighborhood living in fear and distrust of one another.
Memorable quote: “Evil spelled backwards is live!”

“(500) Days of Summer” (2009) – Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is a young man who believes in true love. Summer (Zooey Deschanel) is a young woman who doesn’t. CON: It’s as disgustingly hip as the parentheses in the title. PRO: Joseph Gordon-Levitt.
Memorable quote: (Narrator): “Tom Hansen of Margate, NJ, grew up believing that he’d never truly be happy until the day he met ‘The One.’ This belief stemmed from early exposure to sad British pop music and a total misreading of the movie ‘The Graduate’.”

DOING THE WRITE THING

2010-06-04T20:48:00.001-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Since I began writing this column four years ago, countless readers have asked, “How do you come up with this stuff?” Well, in addition to having been blessed with a modicum of innate talent and what I suspect is a genetic predisposition toward insanity, I have experience and education on my side. I’ve spent years honing my craft (a work in progress) and I also hold a state-certified B.S. degree – not to be confused with a degree in B.S., which I also possess.

“I love to write, but I’m not very good at it,” many folks have lamented to me. Take heart, aspiring scribes, there IS help for you. Even if you’re not a natural-born writer, you CAN learn to be a better writer. Taking a cue from Frank L. Visco’s “How to Write Good,” I present “How to Write Even More Gooder.” By following these 20 handy hints, you’ll be on your way to more coherent scribbling in no time:

1. Prepositions should never be used to end sentences with. (That's why I always use a period after.)

2. Being a writer does NOT give you carte blanche to use foreign terms ad nauseam. This practice is gauche and makes you look like a humongous jerque.

3. Don’t be redundant. Use the fewest, smallest number of words possible to make your point and convey your message; otherwise you come across as repetitive, wordy, long-winded and repetitive.

4. Conversely, don’t use one-word sentences. Ever.

5. Or sentence fragments.

6. Profanity is used by &*%!$ with limited vocabularies.

7. There ain’t never no good excuse for using no double negatives.

8. Just between you and I, some writers could care less about misusing certain words and expressions, irregardless of how awful it sounds. A responsible writer takes the time to research how to use the bestest grammar possible.

9. One exclamation point is enough to express strong feelings!!!!!

10. Avoid repetition. There’s no need to say the same thing over and over.

11. Clichés are for the birds and often stick out like a sore thumb. Instead, try to think outside the box.

12. Its important to use apostrophe’s properly.

13. Also, please, do not, get carried away, with the commas.

14. Same goes for the overuse of quotes by famous people. Quotation confesses inferiority – or so Ralph Waldo Emerson, American essayist, philosopher and poet (1803-1882), said.

15. Employing bad analogies is as terrible as when you get a letter from some non-profit organization asking for donations and you don’t send them any, but you still use the little return-address labels that they sent as a gift.

16. Talented though they may be, dangling participles make even the most brilliant writers sound like idiots.

17. Using big, fancy words when more plebian locution would suffice makes your writing abstruse and superciliously magniloquent.

18. If something was mentioned previously, to do so again is repetitious.

19. Proofread thoroughly to see if you any words out, as well as to to be certain you didn’t repeat any. And don’t forgit to use spell-check.

20. And speaking of proofreading … it’s also a good way to make sure there are no unfinished

BUS STOP! IN THE NAME OF LOVE

2010-05-21T21:38:00.001-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

In the good ol’ U.S. of A., flirting on a city bus could land you on the bad end of a sexual harassment lawsuit, but leave it to the Europeans to actually ENCOURAGE a little slap-and-tickle among public transit passengers.

I reckon running barefoot all over the world takes a lot out of a diaper-wearing, arrow-shooting cherub because Cupid recently hitched a ride with Arriva Scandinavia, the Copenhagen company behind the “love seat project” launched on more than 100 of its vehicles to urge riders to become friends … or more.

When someone sits in one of the valentine-red, side-by-side seats, it’s an indication that he or she is single (or at least available). Smiling, winking, making goo-goo eyes, batting of lashes and other coquettish behaviors are wholeheartedly encouraged.

That’s right, folks, it’s … The Love Bus. Come aboard, they’re expecting you. Set a course for adventure, your mind on a new romance. At least until you get to your stop.

“You never know what will happen,” an Arriva spokesman told the American Free Press. “We cannot guarantee that you will find the person of your dreams. We are just offering the possibility for people to communicate, to smile a bit more and possibly, to win someone's heart.”

That’s PR-babble for, “You might get lucky, but most likely, you’ll experience the soul-crushing agony of having no one sit next to you, causing other passengers to avert their eyes in embarrassment for you, all the while sneaking surreptitious glances at you and obviously delighting in your abject humiliation as they snicker and mutter, ‘Loser!’ behind their morning newspapers.”

Perhaps the Danish are a sweeter lot than we statesiders – after all, they DO have a pastry named after them – because I can’t see this experiment playing out too well in America. In fact, the XXX disgrace described above is just the best-case scenario. There’s also the chance you’ll end with some pervy loner as your seatmate. Or worse, YOU could be the pervy loner – at least in the eyes of the purse-clutching little old ladies boring holes through your obviously corrupt moral fiber with their disapproving stares.

It’s been a while since I patronized the mass transit system, but if memory serves and stories from friends who are regular riders are true, chances are slim to none that you’ll end up holding hands with a dreamboat, and much greater that you’ll be used as a pillow for some snoring, hygiene-challenged furball who decided of all the shoulders on the bus, YOURS looked especially drool-absorbent that day.

Seriously, though, is this what the dating game has come to – the equivalent of holding a “Please love me, I’m lonely” sign on a bus full of strangers? Whatever happened to meeting potential suitors the old-fashioned way – on Internet matchmaking sites?

A SANDWICH BY ANY OTHER NAME …

2010-05-07T21:41:00.002-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

In Hollywood, you know you’ve “arrived” when, instead of having you OVER for lunch, people have you FOR lunch – figuratively, that is. Restaurants, diners and delis across the U.S. celebrate celebrities with a smorgasbord of sandwiches, salads, sides and sundry snackables named for stars of TV, film, music and sports.

For some businesses, there’s no business like show business for drumming up big business. For instance, at New York’s Stage Deli, you can chow down on a Kevin Bacon, Lettuce & Tomato, a Richard Simmons Tropical Fruit Salad or a Dolly Parton – no, it’s not a double serving of extra-large chicken breasts, but pastrami and corned beef on twin rolls. Stage Deli also boasts Sid’s Caesar Salad and the Tiger Woods, which, inexplicably, is a Reuben sandwich; I guess "pork and tongue sub" didn’t sound too appealing.

With the exception of the aforementioned cleverly named dishes, it seems most eateries simply stamp a name on a particular food because a certain star once ordered it or a particular personality is their idol or the ingredients vaguely reflect the honoree’s ethnic origins – e.g., Carnegie Deli’s famous Woody Allen sandwich (pastrami and corned beef on rye).

I’m more a fan of menu items that pay tribute to a specific attribute of a celebrity – something like: The Kardashian: Roast beef, trimmed of unnecessary fat and served on two hot buns – or names that play on celebrity’s name and/or work – Samuel L. Jackson Steaks on a Plane, anyone?

If there are any restaurateurs out there in need of ideas to spice up their menus, I’m your go-to-girl! I have more ideas than a Big Mac has calories. Here are some morsels of food for thought:

* Spam Anderson

* Tom Shanks

* The Brad Pita

* Roseanne Salad Barr

* Britney Asparagus Spears

* Tyra-misu Banks

* Bismarcky Mark Wahlberg

* The Hulk Hoagie

* Terri Garr-lic Bread

* Johnny Hash – served with …

* Seth Green Eggs and Ham

* Dane Cookies ‘n’ Cream

* Johnny Depp-Dish Pizza

* Bernie Mac & Cheese

* Jane Fondue

* Jason Mrazberry Pie

* Snoop Chili Dogg

* Jean-Claude Flan Damme

* Ladyfingers GaGa

* Al Cap-Pacino

GRAY MATTERS

2010-04-23T17:38:00.000-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

I’m not one to keep up with fashion trends, except when they strike me as particularly hideous or inane. Impractical footwear: If the heels are so high, you get a nosebleed, they’re not shoes, they’re health risks. Spray-tanning: That skin color does not occur naturally in any species except Oompa-Loompas. The return of harem pants: MC Hammer called … he wants his 1990 wardrobe back. No pants at all: Only if you’re Lady Gaga, in which case, it’s expected.

One of the latest fads infecting the chronically hip is what some have dubbed “the granny movement.” No, it has nothing to do with geriatric bowel functions; it’s all about going gray – courtesy of a dye kit rather than the natural aging process.

From London’s cool cliques, runway models, celebs like Pink, Kate Moss, Victoria “Posh” Beckham and one of the ubiquitous Olsen twins to the funky-chic geek down the block, charcoal-colored coifs are all the rage. Among the most noted of the “hipparrazi,” as I like to call ‘em, is 13-year-old blogger and style mascot Tavi Gevinson, who’s been making the scene at fashion shows and after-parties in her self-described “awkward jackets and pretty hats” and a blue-gray Dutch-boy bob. Sure, it’s cute now, but what’s she gonna do for an encore … a hip replacement at 16?

Of course, this craze is more prevalent among the younger set, ‘cause I don’t know too many women over 25 who don’t run screaming in horror at the sight of their first silvery strands. According to Nielsen, their older counterparts collectively spend $1.3 billion to hide their grays, but many of these so-called trendsetters are plunking down $200-plus per head to acquire the salt-and-pepper look … without the pepper.

I don’t get it. And I want it to stop before it gets out of hand. Next thing you know, it’ll be en vogue to carry those little coin purses that hold a megazillion pennies, which MUST be counted one by one in order to give cashiers exact change, thus holding up the rest of the checkout line.

Nothing good can come of this voluntary graying of America, I tell you. It can only lead to the popularization of other trends like:

* Male pattern baldness haircuts

* Beaded necklaces made from Geritol, Pepcid and Viagra.

* Henna tattoo liver spots

* Crow’s feet facial decals

* Perpetually blinking stick-on turn-signals for hipster hybrid cars

* Instead of blinged-out grillz? BeDazzled dentures!

* Ugg boots designed to look like black socks with sandals

* Tiny ear-hair wigs

* Customized doorbell that shouts, “You kids get off my lawn!”

Gray hair may be the new “in” thing for some, but frankly, I’d much rather see it on those who have earned it the OLD-fashioned way.

COLOR ME ...

2010-04-09T20:53:00.002-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

With the recent upturn in temperatures, I’ve been on a quest for a reasonably priced spring jacket, something stylish but not too trendy and featuring enough pockets to serve as sort of a wearable purse. As I’m notorious for my hatred of shopping –which, along with my disdain for purse-toting, puts me in danger of having my Ladies’ Club membership revoked – I’ve been cruising the online clothing circuit. I guess you could say I’m doing a little Windows-shopping. (Ha! See what I did there?)

Because I’m just enough of a girl that I wouldn’t be caught dead in a jacket that conflicts with the rest of my ensemble, I’m looking for something in a neutral tone, preferably on the lighter end of the brown spectrum. One would think this would be a relatively simple search. One would be grossly mistaken.

What I found was a baffling array of choices – none of them accompanied by examples – like Chamois, Flax, String, Oakleaf and Pearl Bisque. (String?! Really?) Whatever happened to good ol’ lower-case khaki, beige or just plain tan?! Now, I understand trying to make colors more attractive-sounding, and I can figure out what Sand, Camel, Toast and Café-Au-Lait look like, but Praline Cream, Barley, Oatmeal and Biscuit?

Distracted by these undecipherable names (and a sudden craving for breakfast food), I forgot about shopping and got lost in a sea of Delicacy and Fatigue – not states of mind, but colors in the Chico’s catalog. Another site offers items in the color of Mud, which is about as clear as … well, its name, since one puddle of wet dirt can look different from the next.

Silly me, I always thought brown just came in light, medium and dark, but apparently, it also can be Havana, Aztec, Cordial, Hacienda and California Gold, the last of which I’m pretty sure is an illegal substance.

Seriously, I get it. I realize manufacturers can’t call ‘em as they see ‘em because who’d want to buy anything offered in Jaundice, Gaping Head Wound Red or Strained-Carrot Baby Barf? And I shouldn’t complain because it could be worse. Though I have no idea what Plumbago, Slurple and Haze look like, I’d be more likely to put them on my body than such Tudor-Era shades as Dead Spaniard, Goose-Turd and Blod (I don’t even want to know).

I did enjoy the color wordplay on an automotive website – Anti-Establish Mint, Last Stand Custard, There She Blue – and was thankful to find no cars offered in Gang Green, Salmon ‘Nilla or Pierced Navel Orange. (Though I AM lobbying for I Cannot Tell A Lilac.)

Paint-job possibilities aside, this catchy-naming trend has gotten out of control. What’s the world coming to when there’s a selection of more than a dozen names for what most of us know as black? I give up. Until someone invents a color decoder ring, I’m sticking to Fisher-Price products, where the colors come in primary red, blue and yellow.

WALKIN’ IN A BURTON WONDERLAND

2010-03-26T03:13:00.000-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Recently, I saw Tim Burton’s through-a-looking-glass-darkly interpretation of Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland,” which even the dimmest single-celled organism knows has raked in about a gajillion dollars since it opened in theaters on March 5.

Though a bit more brightly landscaped than much of his previous work and shot in 2D-converted-to-3D, “Alice” is typical Burton fare: Surreal, whimsically absurdist, artfully cartoonish, and featuring the nepotistic casting of wife Helena Bonham Carter and Johnny Depp, godfather of the Carter-Burtons’ son. (Personal opinion: Adding a third dimension did little to enhance an already visually spectacular film, and I’m not just saying that because my poor depth perception makes 3D movies look like the fuzz on a hookah-smoking caterpillar.)

Some literary purists are all in a dither about Burton taking liberties with the original fairy tale – Corporate negotiations! An action scene with Alice in chain mail! – but many are becoming curiouser and curiouser about the director’s wonky re-imagining.

Most people know the story of Alice falling down the rabbit hole, but how many stop to ponder just HOW twisted a tale this is transmit to tots? “Alice's Adventures in Wonderland,” while written to entertain a preteen friend of Carroll’s, is a strange and hostile-bordering-on-sadistic narrative that’s just as appealing to adults as it is with children.

Adults’ fascination with “Alice,” proven by countless analyses of the story’s psychological underpinnings, prompted me to wonder why Hollywood doesn’t simply make fairy tales for the NC-17 crowd?

To that end, here are some suggestions for fairy tales and nursery rhymes I’d like to see adapted for the big and/or small screen:

* “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs: A Study in Polygamy”

* “Narcoleptic Beauty”

* “Free-Range Chicken Little”

* “Addicted to Rogaine: The Rapunzel Story”

* “The Incontinent Duckling”

* “Mrs. Pumpkin Eater, Desperate Housewife”

* “The Tortoise and the Hare's Not-So-Amazing Race”

* “How I Met Your Mother Hubbard”

* “Two and a Half Men in a Tub”

* “Simple Simon Cowell”

* “The Emperor's New Clothes, Portrait of a Metrosexual”

* “Ring Around the Rosie O'Donnell”

* “Jack and Jill Plus Eight”

* “Beauty and the Beast 3: She’s REALLY Out of My League”

* “The Three Little Pigs in a Blanket with a Side of Hash Browns”

ASK A SILLY QUESTION …

2010-03-12T21:33:00.001-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

In the decade or so since Al Gore invented the Internet (just kidding – everyone knows it’s a surveillance device created by a superior alien species to observe us earthlings), it seems like the same 50 emails have been making the rounds. You know the ones – heart-tugging tales of missing/sick children; virus alerts, occasionally real but usually hoaxes; horror stories of people contracting the latest epidemic from a gas pump or pay phone – and so on and so on.

I’ve lost count of how many emails I’ve gotten notifying me that it’s National Friendship Day/Week/Month, but apparently, this “holiday” falls numerous times a year. And if there were any truth to the one about Microsoft sending x-number of dollars to everyone who forwards a particular email, Bill Gates would owe me $8,274.28.

But occasionally, I receive recycled email I don’t mind reading for the 923rd time, particularly “Questions That Make You Go ‘Hmmm.’” These oft-reprised lists feature thought-provoking inquiries like, “If the No. 2 pencil is the most popular, why is it still No. 2?” and “If the police arrest a mime, do they tell him he has the right to remain silent?”

In an effort to start a new email circulation craze, I’m submitting this selection of speculative stumpers. Feel free to pay ‘em forward:

* Why does bottled water have an expiration date?

* If a book about failure is bought by a million people, does that make it a success?

* Why don't we ever hear about people being gruntled or combobulated?

* If my car’s out of whack, is it “in whack” once it’s fixed?

* Why are coffin lids nailed shut?

* Why is it you never hear good-looking people say that beauty is only skin-deep?

* Can poisonous snakes poison each other?

* Why doesn't “added bonus” mean you get two bonuses?

* Why does Allstate insurance's disclaimer say “not available in all states”?

* Why does the LONE Ranger have a sidekick?

* If Yankee Doodle stuck a feather in his hat and called in “macaroni,” what did he call actual macaroni?

* If the Easter Bunny brings eggs, why don't chickens lay Peeps?

* Why do we tell kids not to take candy from strangers, but take them trick-or-treating?

* How come we say, “Heads up!” when we're warning someone to duck?

* Do English people eat American muffins?

* Why do “uphill battle” and “it was all downhill from there” both mean things are tough?

* Why doesn't Winnie the Pooh just get a “hunny” jar with a bigger opening?

* Speaking of honey, why does it come in plastic bears instead of plastic bees?

* Why aren't male ballet dancers called ballerinos?

* How can a mail-order item be labeled “free” if you have to pay shipping and handling?

* Is there an exception to the rule that there's an exception to every rule?

And finally, a conjectural query from the late George Carlin that would render this list non-existent if it had an answer: “What if there were no hypothetical questions?”

FEAST-IVALS FEATURE INCREDIBLE EDIBLES

2010-02-26T18:20:00.002-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Perhaps it’s the arctic weather or maybe I’m going through a midlife masochistic phase, but for the past couple of months, I’ve had an insatiable appetite for hot wings. Now normally, I’m a wimpy-palated mild wings gal – anything spicier is a belly bomb with a very short fuse – but such is my newfound fervor that even the pleasantly piquant punch of medium wings makes taste buds scoff derisively.

So I set out to find the towering inferno of hot wing recipes and in doing so, stumbled upon a shindig that takes place the first weekend in Albuquerque called the National Fiery Foods & Barbecue Show (http://www.fiery-foods.com). After perusing a dossier of dishes that sounded more like a punk band lineup – Scorned Woman, Widow Maker and Hot … er, “female dog” at the Beach, among others – I decided maybe I don’t have a Teflon tongue after all.

Wondering just what other questionable concoctions people are willing to toss down their gullets, I turned my deep-fried dreams into a fest quest, a foray to find freaky food fiestas across the country. What I discovered was … well, let’s just say that if the adage, “You are what you eat,” is true, the folks who frequent these far-out festivals are buggy, gritty and just plain nuts.

Here’s a smorgasbord of strange snack celebrations sure to surprise, shock, satisfy … or sicken:

Rattlesnake Round-Up – Sweetwater, Texas
http://www.rattlesnakeroundup.net
March 11-14
The dish du jour is fried Western Diamondback rattlesnake, which I hear has a real bite to it. Events include the Miss Snake Charmer Pageant, snake-handling shows and a snake meat-eating contest, which I’ll bet is hiss-terical to watch.

The World Grits Festival – April 16-18, St. George, S.C.
http://www.worldgritsfestival.com
Inspired by the 1985 discovery that the residents of St. George consumed more grits per capita than any other place in the world, the fest is highlighted by a rolling-in the-grits contest. I reckon that’s one way to sow your wild oats.

SPAM Jam – April 24, Waikiki, Hawaii
http://www.spamjamhawaii.com
A yearly block party so big it shuts down the city’s main drag, SPAM Jam has spawned such creative cuisine as SPAM Cabbage and Garlic Spaghettine, SPAM Nachos and Guava Mango BBQ SPAM Sliders. Personally, I’d rather sacrifice the canned, jellied meat (it IS meat, right?) to the volcano gods.

RoadKill Cook-off – Sept. 25, Marlinton, W.Va.
http://www.pccocwv.com/festival.htm
Dishes don’t have to be made from actual roadkill, they’re merely required to include critters commonly found dead on the side of the road as their main ingredient. There’s also the crowning of Miss WV Roadkill, who I hear was so nervous last year, she froze like a deer in headlights.

Bugfest – Sept. 25, Raleigh, N.C.
http://www.bugfest.org
You can literally rustle up some grub(s) at Bugfest, where the delicacies include Ant-Chiladas and chocolate chirp cookies made with crickets.

Turkey Testicle Festival – Near Thanksgiving, Huntley, Ill.
http://www.huntleyturkeytesticlefestival.com
As if Tom Turkey didn’t have enough to worry about. I’ll stick to the parts of the bird that flap or trot, thank you!

NO VALENTINE? IT’S NOT THE KISS OF DEATH

2010-02-12T09:35:00.000-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL
(SAYS ‘I LOVE YOU’ ALL YEAR ROUND)

Valentine’s Day … oh, the images those two words evoke! Lovers gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes, heart-shaped boxes brimming with chocolaty goodness, long-stemmed roses and the trill of love in the air!

For some, however, ‘tis a day of dread, a reminder that the only person gazing in their eyes is the one in the mirror as they mourn a lost or not-yet-found love. Cheer up, mopey - being single on Valentine's Day isn't the end of the world. If it were, Cupid would have fallen on his own arrow by now!

For those single by choice, it’s like Independence Day, a celebration of the freedom to gaze openly at whomever they want without having to sleep on the couch later! For those who view marriage as an institution to which they never want to be committed, it’s apt that Valentine’s Day is named after a guy who was imprisoned and sentenced to death.

Whatever their reasons for being uncoupled, singletons have one thing in common: Being overlooked on Valentine’s Day, even on the airwaves, where they’re subjected to Lionel Richie promising his endless love and Sting vowing, in stalker fashion, that every breath you take, he’ll be watching you.

Paul McCartney had it all wrong – some people HAVE had enough of silly love songs. If you fall into that category, here’s a bouquet of lovelorn laments and caustic kiss-offs for your commiseration or celebration:

1. “All I Want From You (Is Away)” – Loretta Lynn

2. “Anti Love Song” – Lenny Kravitz

3. “Don't Go Away Mad (Just Go Away)” - Mötley Crüe

4. “Flushed from the Bathroom of Your Heart” - Johnny Cash

5. “Get Your Tongue Outta My Mouth ('Cause I'm Kissing You Goodbye)” - Ray Stevens

6. “Hate Everything About You” - Ugly Kid Joe

7. “Have a Nice Rest of Your Life” – Randy Travis

8. “Heartbreak Hotel” - Elvis Presley

9. “I Don’t Want You Back” – Eamon (Explicit lyrics)

10. “If The Phone Don't Ring, It's Me” - Jimmy Buffett

11. “If You Can't Live Without Me, Why Aren't You Dead Yet?” - Mayday Parade

12. “I’m Gonna Forget About You” – Sam Cooke

13. “Kiss This” - Aaron Tippin

14. “Love Bites – Def Leppard

15. “Love Don't Live Here Anymore” - Rose Royce

16. “Love is a Losing Game – Amy Winehouse

17. “Love Stinks” - J. Geils Band

18. “Not Tonight (I Have a Heartache)” - George Thorogood

19. “Since You've Been Gone” - Weird Al Yankovic (“It couldn't hurt any more if you shoved a red-hot cactus up my nose!”)

20. “Sleeping Single in a Double Bed” - Barbara Mandrell

21. “Song For the Dumped” - Ben Folds Five

22. “Tainted Love” - Soft Cell

23. “Take Your Love and Shove it”- Joe Pesci (Yes, THAT Joe Pesci.)

24. “Thank God and Greyhound She's Gone” - Roy Clark

25. “The Last Word in Lonesome is Me” - Roger Miller

26. “What Part of ‘No’ Don't You Understand?” - Lorrie Morgan

27. “Where Did Our Love Go? ” – The Supremes

28. “Without You” - Nilsson

29. “You Hurt Me (And I Hate You)” – Eurythmics

30. “You've Lost That Loving Feeling” - Righteous Brothers

YONDER BRITCHES FALLIN' DOWN

2010-01-29T23:51:00.004-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Bill Cosby said it in 2004: “People with their hat on backwards, pants down around the crack. Isn’t that a sign of something or are you waiting for Jesus to pull his pants up?”

Four years later, then-presidential candidate Barack Obama put it in more straightforward terms: “Brothers should pull up their pants. You are walking by your mother, your grandmother, your underwear is showing. What’s wrong with that? Come on.”

On Jan. 13, “General” Larry Platt turned the admonishment into a chant: “Pants on the ground, pants on the ground, lookin’ like a fool with your pants on the ground!” Many laughed at the 62-year-old civil rights and community activist’s audition on “American Idol,” but the response he is getting is no joke.

“Pants on the Ground,” a rhythmic, atonal fashion critique, has already spawned several cover versions and is being called the Internet's first viral hit of the new decade. Simon Cowell may not have given Platt the green light, but in less than a week, more than 2 million Facebook and YouTube fans certainly did.

Now it’s my turn to throw my hat in the ring with a ditty of my own. Set to the tune of the children’s song “Do Your Ears Hang Low?” – more recently popularized by Young Jibbs’ as “Does Your Chain Hang Low?” – I give you, “Do Your Pants Hang Low?”

Do your pants hang low?
Do they let your undies show?
Do they make you trip and fall?
Do they make you shuffle slow?
Can you throw 'em o'er your back
Like a giant knapsack?
Do your pants hang low?

Do your pants hang loose?
Do they expose your caboose?
Can you tie 'em in a knot?
Can you tie 'em in a noose?
If you tuck 'em in your boots
Will they float like parachutes?
Do your pants hang loose?

Do your pants hang down?
Make you look like such a clown?
Is your backside bared
Like a sideways frown?
With one hand you grope
Lookin' like a major dope
Do your pants hang down?

Do your blue jeans sag?
All along the floor they drag
Do they flap in the wind?
Can you fly 'em like a flag?
With your pants below your waist
You're the picture of bad taste!
Do your blue jeans sag?

Are your slacks too slack?
Too revealing in the back?
Do you give new meaning to
SAY "NO" TO CRACK?
Do you even own a belt
Leather, cloth or made of felt?
Are your slacks too slack?

Pull your pants up, please!
Stop 'em flappin' in the breeze!
Do you think you're really cool
Showing off your BVD's?
No one wants to be privy
To the sight of your new skivvies
Pull your pants up, please!

HOW TO WIN THE RESOLUTIONARY WAR

2010-01-15T19:11:00.003-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

As the clock struck midnight two weeks ago, legions of self-improvers crushed out their last smokes, took a final swig of champagne, and with gimlet-eyed determination, resolved to leave their vices behind. Others pledged to lose weight, spend more time with loved ones, get out of debt, and made countless other resolutions to upgrade themselves to New And Improved Human 2.0.

Not this girl. As I lay on my sofa, eating chips, watching the ball drop in Times Square on the big-screen television Santa (translation: my mom) gave me, and texting a friend who was laying on her sofa, eating chips and vicariously partying in Times Square with me, I resolved to do three things: Grab a blanket, snag some salsa for my chips, and channel-surf.

I kept my resolutions, but I know several people who have torn their vows asunder just 15 days into the new year. The secret to my success? Anti-resolutions. By declaring the endeavors I refuse to undertake in the next 12 months (unless doctor- or court-ordered), I’m guaranteed victory. So, in 2010, I resolve NOT to:

* Quit drinking. I don’t drink that much to begin with, so what's a glass or two? Every half hour. And the glass is shaped like a bottle.

* Quit smoking. Nobody likes a quitter and besides, I'm good at it. So don't be surprised if you see me simultaneously smoking a cigarette, a cigar and a ham or two.

* Tell the truth about my age. Actually, I plan to say I'm older than I am, so people will gush, "Wow, you look great!"

* Floss more. I already do it religiously – every Easter and Christmas.

* Watch any movie described by friends and/or family as "hilarious, the funniest thing I've ever seen!" I'm talking to you, "The Hangover." You were sporadically chuckle-worthy (just my opinion), but I laughed harder at the Portuguese translation of your title: "When You Drink, Don't Get Married."

* Spend an entire Saturday in my pj’s in front of the computer. After all, that new big-screen TV ain’t gonna watch itself.

* Keep using the same lame excuses for missing work, skipping the weddings of people I don't want to buy gifts, forgetting birthdays, etc. Instead, I'll think of new excuses.

* Be put on hold. When the person on the other end of the phone asks, "Will you hold, please?" he/she is clearly stating that I have a choice in the matter.

And since we're talking about phone etiquette, I resolve never again to sit through windy telemarketers' sales pitches, unable to get a word in edgewise, only to tell them in the end, "Thanks, not interested." Henceforth, I will interrupt the hucksters mid-spiel and ask for THEIR numbers so I can call back when it's most inconvenient for THEM.

Some of these resolutions are in jest; others are as serious as a German film festival. My philosophy is: Why write about stuff I'm going to do, then not do it when I can do stuff, then write about it?

THE YEAR IN REVIEW REVUE

2010-01-02T08:58:00.003-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

It’s a brand-new year, full of hope, promise and resolutions that will be shattered by sundown. What better time to reminisce about the previous year in entertainment, to recall the faux pas, foibles and fumbles of some of Tinseltown’s finest – or in some cases, foolhardiest? After all, old acquaintance should not be forgot and never brought to mind!

To the tune of “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year”

It’s a most nostalgic time of the year!
When we visit once more all those who heretofore
Made us smile, scoff or sneer!
It’s a most nostalgic time of the year!

I’m recap-capping the season’s headlines!
Of the stars’ highs and lows, of their wins and their woes
For inquiring minds!
I’m recap-capping the season’s headlines!

Jon and Kate dominated, by year’s end we hated
To see them wherever we turned!
With their schemin’ and plottin’, their kids all but forgotten
No surprise that their show crashed and burned!

Kanye West hijacked the spotlight last year!
Interrupted Ms. Swift and left everyone miffed
And the poor girl in tears!
But Beyoncé saved the show, amid cheers!

Young Chris Brown showed his true stripes by taking a few swipes
Rihanna he battered and cussed!
But she rallied quicker and emerged the victor
And left that chump eating her dust!

Many stars were overexposed this past year!
Spence and Heidi, take note: You’ve been shoved down our throats,
Would you please disappear?
Many stars were overexposed this past year!

Carrie Prejean lost her crown, gave gay-marriage thumbs down
And drew much backlash from Perez!
Photographs in the near-buff, if that wasn’t enough
A sex tape compounded the mess!

Speaking of Perez, ‘twas not his best year!
He was put in his place by a fist in the face
Well-deserved, so we hear!
Perhaps he’ll keep his big mouth shut this year!

Late-night talk bade adieu to Jay Leno in June
Conan filled his big shoes in the fall
“ER” made history – 15 years on TV!
“Guiding Light” made its last curtain call

And we lost many bright stars through the year:
From the 70’s era, an angel named Farrah
Many held her so dear!
Yes, we lost many bright stars through the year

On the same day, a big shock shook the world of pop-rock
When Michael took his final bow
And Walter Cronkite said his final goodnight
Swayze danced his way up to the clouds

Here’s to more headlines throughout the new year!
‘Cos it’s guaran-dang-teed, stars will booze, brawl and breed
Or screw up their careers!
And give us more entertainment this year!

THE TWELVE DISCOUNTS OF CHRISTMAS

2009-12-18T21:05:00.001-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

For 26 years, PNC Wealth Management of Pittsburgh has entertained and educated bankers, brokers, students and shoppers alike with its annual "Christmas Price Index,” a cost assessment of the gifts in the song "The Twelve Days of Christmas" if purchased at current prices. According to the latest tabulation, the whole kit and caboodle would run you $87,403 – up $800 from last year.

If you’re like me (translation: as broke as a sailor after three days ashore), there’s no way you could finance even a fraction of that figure, and besides, where ya gonna find a single maid a-milking, let alone eight? And unless those hens are wearing tiny berets and clucking “Frère Jacques,” how can you really be sure they’re French?

There are many less expensive, easier-to-obtain alternatives to the presents listed in the holiday tune. Compare the costs of these substitute gifts to the price tags on their traditional counterparts, and if your true love isn’t overjoyed by your offerings, your wallet will be.

* Traditional gift: A partridge in a pear tree - $159.99
* Cheaper alternative: Green parakeet - $21.99 at Petsmart, plus two pounds of juicy pear Jelly Belly beans from Amazon.com - $15. (Feeding Jelly Bellies to parakeet not recommended.)

* Traditional: Two turtle doves - $55.98
* Alternative: Two Dove Chocolate turtle martinis – After tossing back a couple of these, you won’t care about the cost.

* Traditional: Three French hens - $45
* Alternative: Three French hams - $27 (IdealCheese.com). Let’s face it, those hens are destined for the soup pot, anyway, so why not buy your food already dead?

* Traditional: Four calling birds - $599.96
* Alternative: Four bird callers - $13.48 (Amazon.com). Not for use during wabbit-huntin’ season.

* Traditional: Five golden rings - $499.95
* Alternative: Five rolls of Butter Rum Lifesavers – Candyfavorites.com offers a 20-roll box for $17.41.

* Traditional: Six geese a-laying - $150
* Alternative: “The Harlem Globetrotters: Six Decades of Magic” on VHS. Features early ‘trotter Reese "Goose" Tatum, possibly doing lay-ups, $1.99 (Amazon.com)

* Traditional: Seven swans a-swimming - $52.50
* Alternative: Seven scoops of Schwan's ice cream a-swimming in the syrup of your choice - $5 to $6 per half-gallon at various stores. Bonus: It’s easier to clean up than swan poop.

* Traditional: Eight maids a-milking - $58
* Alternative: “Watersing” by The Singing Milkmaids, $15 at CDBaby.com. Who can forget such hits as “My Johnny was a Shoemaker” and “Cheese and Curds and Whey”?

* Traditional: Nine ladies dancing - $5,473.07
* Alternative: Numerous ladies dancing at assorted “adult” establishments around town – Cover charge plus dollar bills for G-string-stuffing.

* Traditional: Ten lords a-leaping - $4,413.61
* Alternative: “The Michael Flatley Collection,” three two-sided DVDs featuring “The Lord of the Dance” for the low, low price of $18.99 at Amazon.com.

* Traditional: Eleven pipers piping - $2,284.80
* Alternative: Amazon’s entire stock of Zamfir's "Pipe Dreams" - $75.90. Hey, somebody’s gotta buy ‘em.

* Traditional: Twelve drummers drumming - $2,475.20
* Alternative: One out-of-work garage-band drummer – Fifty bucks, all the eggnog he can drink, plus he gets to crash on your couch for two weeks.

PAPA’S NOT A BRAND-NEW GAG

2009-12-04T19:30:00.002-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

In this age of cookie-cutter programming, with hundreds of channels spewing no-resemblance-to-reality shows, Very Special Episodes and so-you-think-you-can-marry-a-dancing-millionaire-cougar contests, there’s little to nothing groundbreaking on the tube.

Shhh! Don’t tell The Powers That Be at CBS, who think they’ve mined comedy gold with the idea to base a show on the popular Twitter account of an out-of-work California writer.

After unemployment forced him to move in with his parents, Justin Halpern created the site to chronicle his 73-year-old father’s insults, tirades and pontifications. Example: “Oh, please, you practically invented lazy. People should have to call you and ask for the rights to lazy before they use it.”

Be warned before you Google the Twitter page: The elder Halpern’s proclamations aren’t usually as tame as the above quote; most are generously laced with profanity. In fact, the title of Halpern’s site includes a four-letter synonym for bodily waste that’s not fit for this family publication. Let’s just call it “Stuff My Dad Says” – “SMDS” for short.

In a victory for basement-dwellers everywhere, Halpern has become an Internet sensation, garnering 700,000 (and counting) followers, scoring a book deal with HarperCollins, and then landing an offer to co-write a sitcom inspired by “SMDS.”

CBS execs are twitterpated over this “new” idea, but they can’t slap a fresh coat of paint on a rundown shack and convince me it’s the Taj Mahal.

The concept of a crotchety geezer who berates and belittles everyone and everything under the sun? Gosh, I loved this show when I was 8 and it was called “All in the Family.”

Long before social networks, TV networks deluged us with dour, disgruntled dads. Here’s a half-dozen of my personal faves:

Archie Bunker, “All in the Family”
Family: Wife Edith, “little girl” Gloria, son-in-law Mike Stivic
Trademarks: Shabby armchair; penchant for slandering and stereotyping those of races, ethnicities, religions, etc., other than his own – and somehow, he made it funny.
Quotes: “Aw, geez!” “Dingbat!” “You are a Meathead!” “Shut … up … you!”

Fred Sanford, “Sanford and Son”
Family: Son Lamont; sister-in-law Aunt Esther, best friends Grady and Bubba
Trademarks: Junkyard; raggedy pickup; ratty beard; suspenders and plaid shirt
Quotes: “Shut up, dummy!” “It’s The Big One! I’m comin’ to join you, Elizabeth!”

Red Forman, “That '70s Show”
Family: Wife Kitty, daughter Laurie, son Eric
Trademarks: Permanently furrowed brow; narrow-eyed scowl
Quote: “Dumbass!”

Martin Crane, “Frasier”
Family: Sons Frasier and Niles, both psychologists; live-in physical therapist Daphne Moon
Trademarks: Threadbare armchair; cane; Jack Russell terrier named Eddie
Quote: “I did … then we had Niles.” – In response to Frasier asking if he believed in second chances.

Frank Costanza, “Seinfeld”
Family: Wife Estelle, son George
Trademarks: Incessant bellowing; man-boobs
Quotes: “You want a piece of me? YOU GOT IT!” “My George isn't clever enough to hatch a scheme like this.”

Al Bundy, “Married … with Children”
Family: Wife Peggy, daughter Kelly, Son Bud
Trademarks: Beleaguered expression; Sans-a-Belt trousers with hand in waistband
Quote: “Peg, kids, get ready to torture me – I'm home.”

I’LL BE BROKE FOR CHRISTMAS

2009-11-20T20:13:00.004-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

'Tis a month before Christmas and all through the U.S.,
The economy's left our finances a mess.
We're hocking our gold, from our jewels to our teeth
To buy a big tree decked with gifts underneath.

The children are nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of PlayStations dance in their heads.
As Mom and Dad over the checkbook conspire
To somehow fulfill all their Christmas desires.

Their MasterCard's maxed out, they save every dime;
They're grateful for jobs that they work overtime.
For the Christmas they knew in their own younger days
Has swapped Elmo for Rudolph and scooters for sleighs!

The sales pitches start up 'round All Hallow's Eve:
Commercials and print ads, without a reprieve!
For Barbie dolls, digi-cams, Nerf toys and VTechs,
Buzz Lightyear and Clone Wars, Transformers and Mindflex!

The kiddies make lists filled with treasures assorted
While Mom and Dad wonder, "How can we afford it?"
But somehow they manage as most parents do,
To spin silk from a sow's ear and make dreams come true.

They start shopping in summer - sometimes early as May;
They stockpile the lay-bys and pray they can pay.
They seek bargains and deals, searching high and low places:
Flea markets and yard sales, Craigslist in some cases!

It's the deep, heartfelt wish of each mom and each dad
To provide their dear children with more than they had.
From schooling to housing to everyday joys
Like cell phones, chic clothing, and gadgets and toys.

But lately, most purse strings are pulled rather taut,
And parents can't buy all the things they once bought.
For schooling and housing trump gadgets and toys
And cell phones won't feed or clothe young girls and boys!

Some children will haul in as much as last year
While others will open a gift there and here.
Still others will wake up upon Christmas morn –
Not a thing to unwrap 'neath a tree so forlorn.

Yet many will nonetheless praise and give thanks
That their hearts are more full than their wallets and banks.
Rejoice in the moment, not in yuletides of yore
For the present's a gift that’s not sold in a store.

If there is one good thing to come from this recession,
It's that many are learning an important lesson:
Getting presents on Christmas is fun, there's no doubt,
But that's not what the day is really about.

LET’S TALK TURKEY

2009-11-06T00:22:00.002-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Thanksgiving is less than three weeks away and I’m already dreading the weeks of leftover turkey. I’m not just talking about resurrecting the remnants as sandwiches, casseroles, soups and salads.

No, in years past, I’ve gotten so creative in my attempts to disguise the remains of the day that I’m pretty much to turkey what Bubba of “Forrest Gump” is to shrimp. There’s turkey lasagna, turkey quesadillas, turkey jerky tacos, chili con turkey, turkey kabobs, turkey gumbo, pan-fried turkey, deep-fried turkey, stir-fried turkey, pineapple turkey, lemon turkey, coconut turkey, pepper tur … well, you get the point.

This year, I’m heading Tom Turkey off at the pass, before he even makes his way to Thanksgiving dinner. Unfortunately, I probably won’t reach Farmer Brown before he swings the ax – or whatever undoubtedly gross and gory manner in which the bird is dispatched. Hey, turkey, I don’t know your life; I was almost 10 years old when I learned that you weren’t raised in shrink-wrapped Styrofoam at the deli counter.

Anyway, in the event that I arrive to find ol’ Tom already gone to that Great Turkey Shoot in the Sky, I’ll still honor his remains, just not at my table. Join me in flipping the bird into something new and unusual by consulting my Top 20 Uses for a Dead Turkey:

20. Fancy-schmancy mop … take that, Swiffer!

19. Not-very-effective pool floatie

18. Handy, dandy back-scratcher

17. Makeshift marshmallow roaster

16. Modern-art table lamp

15. When placed at the base of a door, makes a festive draft-blocker

14. New-fangled bagpipes

13. Decorative candlestick

12. Tetherball, anyone?

11. Louisville Gobbler baseball bat

10. High-fashion, hipster headwear that’ll make all those coonskin
cap-wearing dweebs go greener than a seasick leprechaun

9. A couple of snips, throw in a zip and voila! An avant-garde handbag!

8. Nifty feather duster that will give your furniture a delicious golden glaze

7. Guest co-host on "The View" to make Sherri Shepherd look like eloquent genius

6. Tie two together by their necks … instant numchucks!

5. Mullet-like toupee – feathered in the front, giblets in the back!

4. "Discover" dead turkey in your Quarter Pounder, sue the pants off Ronald McDonald.

3. Très chic replacements for those tacky pink flamingos in your front yard

2. Four words: Dead Turkey Puppet Theatre!

And last, but certainly not least:

1. Isn't it about time fruitcake had some meat in it?

. . . AND THE BANNED PLAYS ON

2009-10-30T21:00:00.005-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

In the wake of my last column, a friend took umbrage at my inclusion of "It is what it is" in a list of words and phrases that should be banned from the English language. "Some things defy explanation," she said, in defense of the aforementioned term. One need only to look at the phenomena of Kim Kardashian’s fame and women attracted to Jon Gosselin to know that this is true.

When I declared a moratorium on "It is what it is," perhaps I should have noted that I am as guilty as the next gal of spouting that throwaway phrase now and again on those occasions when my vocabulary is feeling not-so-fresh. In fact, were I to do away with my own stock of oft-uttered expressions, this column would be little more than a handy space for doodling. What one linguist calls overused and irritating, I call "the cornerstones of my biweekly babbling."

So, in the name of increasing my word power, I hereby vow to (make a halfhearted attempt to) abstain from (or at least slightly reduce) the use of the following terminology (except when I really and truly need to):

* "Meh" – It’s less obnoxious than the ubiquitous teenspeak staple, "Whatever," and nicer than, "Your opinion is as meaningless as Kim Kardashian."

* "PWNED" – Derived from "owned," meaning to conquer, it should only be used if you are 12 years old and playing Halo online while wearing headgear and watching "Naruto."

* "Full of win" – Victorious, excellent or otherwise superlative. Example: "Stephenie Meyer’s ‘Twilight’ series is full of win." In addition to being blatantly false, saying this will make you sound like you’re full of something else.

* "Conversate" – Please orientate yourself with a dictionary so you can learn that the proper way to pronunciate this word is "converse."

* "Not so much" – And yet it’s uttered TOO much.

* "Cool beans" – This is ranks up there with "the bee’s knees," "the cat’s meow/pajamas" and "easy peasy lemon squeezy" on the list of Things You Should Not Say Unless You’re Old Enough To Tell Stories About The Depression.

* "Carbon footprint" – Mine’s a size 5, so how environmentally destructive could it be? Kim Kardashian’s buttprint, on the other hand …

* "Weak sauce" – That’s enough, Guy-Dude-Bro.

* Combined celebrity names – Brangelina, TomKat and Bennifer are bad enough, but if this asinine amalgamation continues, we could end up with Madonna + Simon Cowell = MadCow.

* "Pop" – As in, "That red blouse really makes your auburn highlights pop!" Save this one as slang for soda or a nickname for your dad.

And last, but certainly not least:

* "I threw up in my mouth a little" – Enough with the figurative regurgitation, people! How about upchucking this term from your lexicon? (Those suffering from acid reflux are exempt.)

If I hear this expression one more time, I swear I’m gonna gag someone with a spoon.

WORDS GET IN THE WAY

2009-10-12T17:42:00.003-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Recently, “Saturday Night Live” newbie Jenny Slate commited the faux pas of uttering one of George Carlin’s “Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television.” Keep in mind that the list was issued before we had eleventy-zillion cable channels where you now can hear all seven words terms and many more colorful ones that have since been coined. The expletive in question was none of the euphemisms for bodily waste or anatomical parts, or the one describing, um, an act of … uh … intimacy between … er … well, just don’t do it, OK?

This four-letter word is used as a verb, noun or adjective, often in exclamation and/or imperative form, and was deemed in the movie “A Christmas Story” as “the granddaddy of all swear words.” That’s right, Slate dropped the “eff-dash-dash-dash” bomb during the sketch “Biker Chick Chat.” Only those in the Eastern Time Zone heard the slip-up, since NBC quickly restored it to the intended “freakin’” for western zones.

Since the incident, online comments have ranged from, “People are so uptight! It’s just a word,” to “It should be banned from the English language.” Oh, if only that were possible! If I legislated lexiconography, the overused, misused and useless terminology I’d banish – if not from the language altogether, at least from common usage – would fill a dictionary.

“Cougar” tops my list. Why are women of a certain age likened to a beast of prey because they enjoy the company of younger men? If you don’t think that’s sexist, tell me the comparable term for older men who date younger women? The only one I can think of “lucky S.O.B.”

Next up: “ATM machine.” The “M” stands for machine, so unless you’re talking about the gadget that repairs an ATM, stick to the acronym or call it by its technical name: Cash spitter-outer.

Last year’s presidential campaign spawned several words and phrases I could without hearing again, like “pit bull,” “hockey mom” and “new change.” What other kind of change is there? And I don’t want to hear anyone dubbed “maverick” except James Garner, circa 1960.

I’d also outlaw:

“It is what it is” – Unless you’re Bill Clinton, in which case, it depends on what your definition of “is” is.

“(Insert noun) is the new black” – So what does that make the OLD black?

“Best-kept secret” – How well-kept is it if you’re telling me?

“Sick” as a synonym for “cool,” “amazing,” etc. – You might think you sound cool and amazing, but you’re making me sick – and that’s a synonym for “ill” and “nauseated.”

“Past history” – This redundant phrase is like repeating the same, exact thing twice.

“With all due respect” – Translation: “I don’t really respect you, so it’s fitting that I’m about to say something disrespectful.”

“Downsizing” – Dressing it up doesn't make the folks on the receiving end feel any better. Ditch this word and call it what it is - firing. Unless you’re referring to weight loss. In that case, it is what it is.

GOTTA WORK WITH WHAT YOU’RE GIVEN

2009-09-25T21:00:00.004-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

A reader with whom I correspond regularly has started sending me getting-to-know-you questions; I’m not sure whether to be flattered or put a restraining order on hold for future use. Is this just an average Joe/Joanne who merely enjoys my writing and wonders what makes such a twisted mind tick? Or will I wake up one morning shackled to my bed by a sledgehammer-wielding stranger who claims to be my biggest fan?

I jest. This reader has confessed to being a fan, but not in a kidnapped-and-hobbled, Kathy Bates kinda way. Her questions range from whimsical – “Would you rather fly every time you pass gas or wet your pants every time you laugh?” – to sensible – “If you went back to school, what would you study?” The beautiful thing is that I can respond however I choose – poem form or pig-Latin or straightforwardly; there are no wrong answers.

I answered her latest query, “Why did you become a writer?” with this laundry list of coulda-been professions:

* I considered becoming a ballet dancer, but I couldn't pass the barre exam.

* I tried pro golf, but my performance was below par.

* So I switched to bowling. It wasn’t up my alley.

* I worked as a dolphin trainer, but there was something fishy about my boss (an ex-Marine), so I got fired on porpoise.

* I tried being a wedding photographer, but I got tired of waiting for my prints to come.

* I studied dentistry, but I couldn't sink my teeth into it.

* I worked as a bank teller, but I didn’t have much interest.

* I went into archaeology, but I didn't dig it.

* I went into carpentry, but it board me to tears because I wasn’t in the right frame of mind.

* My tenure as a janitor wasn't a sweeping success, either.

* I wanted to join NASA's astronaut program, but the requirements were out of this world.

* I applied to be a nanny, but the job came with too many little problems.

* I tried my hand as a Las Vegas dealer, but it just wasn't in the cards.

* I got hired at a brewery and had high hops that this was my true calling, but I could barley stand it.

* I was a clerk in a cheese shop, but I was no Gouda at it, so I Bleu it off.

* I thought about applying to beauty school, but I couldn't makeup my mind and missed the deadline.

* I was a mail carrier, but thankfully, I was delivered from that post.

* I joined the police force, but I copped an attitude with the chief and he refused to give me another shot.

* I took a job as an elevator operator. It had its ups and downs.

* I toyed with the idea of being an Egyptologist, but that's ancient history.

So, with all other options exhausted, I went into journalism, where I’ve been told I have the write stuff. It hasn’t brought me fame and fortune, but it’s kept me in the headlines.

JON & KATE MINUS ME

2009-09-11T21:29:00.006-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

Normally, I try to steer clear of the hot topics du jour and decomposing horses still being flogged, post-mortem. But my silence about the Jon and Kate debacle has gone on long enough. I think my sentiments would be expressed best when sung (in abbreviated form) to the tune of “American Pie,” with deepest apologies to Don McLean.

'Twas not so long ago
I can still remember
How the Gosselins used to make me smile
Residing in a modest house
Homemaker Kate and Jon, her spouse
And babies that went on for miles and miles

But as she toiled to raise her litter
Kate appeared to grow embittered
Jon seemed more aloof, yes
(Turns out he's just a doofus)

I can't recall the moment quite
When I knew divorce would be their plight
But I knew that I'd called it right
The day the marriage died

So bye-bye, to the Gosselin tribe
'Cos this season isn't pleasin'
No more can I abide
I can't watch your show or read the constant headlines
Sayin' Jon claims Kate does nothin' but whine
And Kate says Jon is out of his mind

While Kate's fans wave books to sign
And as Jon works on his clothing line
Does a nanny watch their eight?
The cash they rake in from their show
I hope they're saving up that dough
'Cos therapy's no doubt their children's fate!

Well, it's true that Kate's a control freak
And a germophobe who tends to shriek
If Jon were more laid-back
He would be comatose, in fact

Now he's a playboy bach’lor, he likes to flirt
Rides a bitchin’ bike and wears Ed Hardy shirts
But deep down, I'm sure it hurt
The day the marriage died

So now I'm sayin'
Bye-bye to the Gosselin tribe
Once your ratings were inflating
Now I'm watching them slide
Them good ol' fans are fallin' by the wayside
And waiting for your 15 minutes to die
For your 15 minutes to die

Wed for 10 years, two spent on this show
With perks that most people never know
'Cos stardom has its luxuries
First, a tummy tuck for post-natal Kate
Then some plugs for Jon-boy's balding pate
And a big Hawaii trip for free

Oh, and between hulas and luaus
The Gosselins renewed their vows
All at the network's cost
(Jon had his fingers crossed!)
So it seems this show has jumped the shark
Turn it off and put the gear in park
It's time this program fades to dark
And let the madness die

So I'm singin'
Bye-bye to the Gosselin tribe:
Mady, Cara, Hannah, Collin
Alexis, Leah, Aaden and Joel
I pray someday a normal life you will know
Once they pack up all the cameras and go
Pack up all the cameras and go!

REACH OUT AND (RE)TOUCH SOMEONE

2009-08-28T19:41:00.001-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

In the past few weeks, one of Google’s top searches has been “Kelly Clarkson SELF Magazine” or some variation thereof, as fans and readers seek the skinny on the singer’s recent dramatic weight loss.

Examining Clarkson from head to toe on SELF’s September cover, they marvel at her newly svelte figure, which she must’ve attained overnight, since photos from earlier this month show a more buxom, curvy lass.

How’d she do it? Walking and Weight Watchers? Pilates and prune juice? Jogging and Jenny? Did she have that surgery where they reroute your stomach like I-75, only the traffic flows more smoothly and exits faster? None of the above.

The secret to Clarkson’s slenderness is SUCH a secret that she wasn’t even in on it. You see, the folks at SELF decided, in their quest for “the photo (that) is the truest we have ever put out there on the newsstand” – quoth editor-in-chief Lucy Danziger – that Clarkson would look her “truest” minus at least 20 pounds. So they downsized Rubenesque hips, tapered sturdy thighs and streamlined what some call “junk in the trunk” – heck, they all but altered her DNA – to the point that many readers didn’t recognize her.

This is an entertainment column, so I don’t want to get too heavy, but I can’t overlook the hypocrisy and irony in SELF’s “retouching” (as Danziger calls it) the physical appearance of a celebrity who spends part of the interview discussing body confidence. “When people talk about my weight, I'm like, ‘You seem to have a problem with it; I don't. I'm fine!’” Clarkson said.

It’s the singer’s self-assuredness that Danziger claims led SELF to revamp the photo. (Yeah, I don’t get it, either.) On TV talk shows and on her blog,* the editor lamely attempts to explain away the decision, stating, “We correct color and other aspects of the digital pictures … then publish the best version we can.” Apparently, “color” is SELF-speak for “dress size.”

Showing a flair for double-talk, Danziger writes that Clarkson “is happy in her own skin … (w)hether she is up or down in pounds is irrelevant.” (Except on the cover of SELF, that is.) Danziger also trumpets her own body confidence, but contradicts herself in the same paragraph with a story about once “retouching” a photo of herself because her hips looked too big. “I was heavier then,” she notes, adding that today, she would let the aforementioned photo run unaltered. Hmm. Very telling, indeed.

Danziger might be fooling herself, but she hasn’t conned the numerous readers from whom she’s received a heft of responses tipping the scales in Clarkson’s favor. The words “cancel” and “subscription” appear frequently, as do “I hope” and “you lose your job.”

Through thick and thin, one thing remains constant about Clarkson: Girlfriend’s got pipes – and not just when she’s singing. I’ve read enough interviews to know she’s not shy about addressing what others think of her physique. I’d be very interested to hear her weigh in on this matter.

* Read Danzinger's followup to the reader backlash here.

WORD TO YOUR MOTHER (GOOSE)

2009-08-14T22:06:00.002-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

The centuries-old nursery rhymes we continue to teach kids had little relevance in our own lives, so imagine how cuckoo-bananas these fantastical verses must sound to today’s more world-savvy youngsters.

In an age when Old McDonald’s farm is in foreclosure, Little Boy Blue is blowing his horn on YouTube, and tuffets have been replaced by ergonomically designed game chairs with head rest speakers and built-in subwoofers, Simon ain’t so simple anymore.

The dish isn’t just running away with the spoon; it’s eloping to Vegas with a TV camera crew in tow. Rock-a-bye your baby in the treetop and you can expect a visit from Child Protective Services. Jack and Jill? They’re not walking up the hill to fetch a pail of water; they’re footing it because gas is too expensive!

During more innocent times, we blithely accepted such notions as a cow jumping over the moon, four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie, and Peter Peter locking the missus away in a pumpkin shell. What else was a man who couldn’t keep a wife to do? But if the children in my life are any indication, modern-day munchkins don’t accept these concepts without question.

Mother Goose might have been spittin’ dope rhymes back in the day, but in 2009, her flow is tired – or as the whippersnappers say, “Weak sauce.”

It’s time for Mama G to kick some lyrics the shorties can understand. For instance, instead of asking Brother John if he’s sleeping, it’d be more timely to inquire: “What’s that beeping, what’s that beeping/John, my bro? John, my bro?/Is your iPhone ringing, is your iPhone ringing?/Let it go, let it go.” To voice mail, that is.

If nursery rhymes got with the times, children’s books might read something like this:

“No raining, no pouring/Oh, no - it's global warming!”

“Mary had a little lamb/Till Daddy lost his job/Now Lambie's on the table with/Some nice corn on the cob.”

“Georgie Porgie, puddin' and pie/Kissed the girls and made them cry/Now to his great embarrassment/He's charged with sexual harassment.”

“Jack Sprat could eat no fat/No deep-fried foods at all/Because his wife's concerned about/His bad cholesterol.”

“Little Jack Horner/Sat in a corner/Playing his brand-new Wii/He's sprained both his thumbs/His brain has gone numb/And his weight’s multiplied by three.”

“Jack be nimble, Jack be quick/You've got no insurance, so don't get sick!”

“To market, to market, to buy me some bling/Home again wearing a gold chain and ring.”

“There was a young woman who lived in a condo/She had many kids and a husband named Jon, so/She signed a big contract and next thing you know/It's ‘Lights, camera, action!’ Their own TV show!”

THAT’S HOW THE COOKIE CRUMBLES

2009-07-17T20:39:00.000-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

For someone who has voluntarily kept her DNA out of the gene pool, I watch a lot of kid-targeted television. It’s my not-so-guilty viewing pleasure and a source of bemusement for my friends who have young’uns and wistfully dream of someday discovering if other stations exist besides Disney and Nickelodeon.

Call me developmentally arrested, but I’ll watch four consecutive episodes of “iCarly,” and I’ll laugh loudly, shamelessly, and frequently. Call me a bored escapist who should get out more, but I’ll vehemently debate the social relevance of “SpongeBob SquarePants” (it has none). Call me a kid at heart, but I get a nostalgic thrill when I happen upon oldies but goodies like the “ZOOM” video I found in a thrift store, the revival of “Schoolhouse Rock” and a show I watched since its inception, “Sesame Street.”

I hadn’t visited “Da Street” in the three or so years since my twin nephew and niece outgrew the program, so I decided to catch up with my Sesame peeps. I saw several new kids on the block, as well as all the old homeys. Ernie and Bert – still kickin’ it bachelor-style; the Count – his same number-lovin’ self; and Cookie Monster was stuffing his gullet full of … fruits and vegetables?

I felt boondoggled, mind-boggled and hornswoggled, like I’d stepped into “Sesame Street: The Bizarro World Edition.” I’d always been confident in the knowledge that three things in life are certain: Death, taxes and the fact that “C is for cookie.” But my faith faltered upon hearing Cookie Monster’s new anthem, “Cookies Are a Sometimes Food.”

Being a seasoned newshound, I consulted the Internet to investigate this unsettling turn of events. I learned that the program’s producers, noting the national rise in childhood obesity, restructured the show to teach kids about exercise and healthy eating. I also found out I’m four years late discovering this, but that’s beside the point.

What kind of cockamamie world are we living in where a Cookie Monster munches on mangos instead of macaroons, tomatoes instead of Trefoils, squash instead of snickerdoodles, lentils instead of … well, you get the picture. It’s radicchio … er, ridiculous! What’s next, Oscar becoming a compulsive bather? Grover achieving calmness through yoga and Ritalin? If they want to create a Broccoli Beast or a Veggie Varmint, fine, but gimme back my cookie-chomping critter!

Certainly, I don’t take health matters lightly; I realize obesity is a problem in our nation … heck, it’s a problem in my mirror! But what harm is there in keeping Cookie Monster true to his name? Obviously, he’s suffered no ill effects from eating nothing but sweets the first 36 years of his life – he hasn’t aged a day, his fur has a healthy glow and he doesn’t have to worry about sugar rotting his teeth, for he has none!

I say they can the veggies, boot the fruit and let him eat Cakesters. After all, C isn’t for carrot, it’s for cookie. And that’s good enough for me.

KINGS OF THE ROAD

2009-07-03T17:36:00.002-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

With unemployment rising faster than Megan Fox’s hemlines and gas prices oscillating like Tila Tequila’s sexual preference, folks are canceling vacations and seeking cheaper alternatives. If your purse strings are tighter than Beyoncé’s weave, there’s a way to hit the highway without shifting the car out of park. It’s one of our most revered cinematic pastimes: The road trip movie.

For the cost of two, maybe three, gallons of gas, you can see the world without enduring traffic jams, flat tires, the eternal wait at baggage claim or Mommy’s Little Precious playing punt-the-passenger on the back of your seat. So pop some Orville Redenbacher’s, fire up the DVD player, and settle into that you-shaped groove in your sofa.

This list isn’t comprehensive by a mile because there are so many road trip classics, including “It Happened One Night,” “It’s A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, World,” “Smokey and the Bandit,” and of course, “Easy Rider” – not a personal pick, but nonetheless a linchpin of the genre.

Even “The Wizard of Oz” is a road trip – bonus points because it’s on foot! More recent years have brought “Dumb and Dumber” – I’m not a fan, but many are; “Sideways,” which I haven’t seen but hope to; and “Road Trip,” which I’ll never see for two reasons: Tom. Green.

I’ve narrowed my choices down to a few favorites from the last three decades:

* “National Lampoon’s Vacation” (1983) – The quintessential road trip flick, featuring Chevy Chase at the height of his hilarity.

* “Pee-wee’s Big Adventure” (1985) – Tim Burton kicked off his directorial career with man-child Pee-wee’s search for his stolen bicycle, a trek that takes him to truck stops, biker bars, tourist traps and don’t forget – The Alamo.

* “Planes, Trains & Automobiles” (1987) – This screwball comedy manages to have heart and depth, thanks to funnymen Steve Martin and John Candy.

* “Thelma & Louise” (1991) – A chick flick that feels like a dude movie, except dudes wouldn’t hold hands and grin during their final trip. I won’t spoil it for the three cave-dwellers who haven’t seen it; let’s just say the last journey is a short one.

* “The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert” (1994) – Forget “To Wong Foo.” This Aussie trio makes those so-called drag queens look like … well, three guys in women’s clothing.

* “The Muppet Movie” (1997) – A froggie goes a-courtin’ stardom, as Kermit heads to Hollywood. I dare you not to get misty during “Rainbow Connection.”

* “The Straight Story” (1999) – An unconventional road tripper featuring one man, one riding mower and a six-week trip to make peace with his estranged brother. Even weirder: It’s a David Lynch film.

* “Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan” (2006) – Reporter come to U.S. for do movie-film about greatest country in world and hopefully make sexy time with Pamela Anderson. High five!

* “Little Miss Sunshine” (2006) – “National Lampoon’s Vacation” for the indie set, with a more dysfunctional family and a kiddie beauty pageant thrown in for extra laughs.

I’M NOT BUYIN’ WHAT THEY’RE SELLIN’

2009-06-19T18:31:00.003-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

You can’t turn on the TV, radio or computer without being assaulted by celebrity endorsements. They scream at you from billboards, store displays and magazine stands. Celebrity branding’s nothing new, but have you ever wondered how stars decide which products to put their names on?

Did Paul Newman have a run-in with some rancid ranch dressing and decide he could do better? Was Suzanne Somers watching “Three’s Company” reruns and thought, “I dunno what I was thinking when I wore that side ponytail, but boy, my thighs looked great!” Perhaps Jimmy Dean was scarfing down a corndog when it struck him that meat on a stick would taste even better with a pancake wrapped around it.

Why do certain stars shill certain wares? Maybe it’s a career move or a publicity ploy. Maybe they truly love the product and want us to know how great it is. Certainly, some do it because they need the money, but many do it even though they don’t.

From Newman’s Own dressings and Somers’ ThighMaster to Jimmy Dean foods and the Foreman Grill, celebrity-stamped products have woven their way into the fabric of everyday life. Sometimes the endorsements make sense, like Michael Jordan for Nike. Athletes wear sneakers – simple enough. But sometimes it’s a stretch connecting the celebrity to the product, like Michael Jordan cologne. While I trust His Airness to tell me which kicks have the best traction, I’m more dubious about his knowledge of botanic chemistry. His cologne won’t make me 6’6” or give me mad b-ball skills, so I can only conclude it’ll make me smell like him. I’ve seen the guy in action and he sweats. A LOT. Thanks, but I can manufacture my own stink for free.

Of course, Mike’s not the only one to endorse a scent bearing his name. Fragrance fever has infected stars including Elizabeth Taylor, Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Prince, Cher, J-Lo, Beyoncé, Michael Jackson, KISS, Mariah Carey, Hilary Duff, the Olsen twins, Joan Rivers, Paris Hilton, Derek Jeter and even fictional characters like Barbie, Spiderman, Austin Powers and Avril Lavigne, who describes her new Black Star perfume as “me in a bottle,” so you’ll need to buy a spit-shield before spritzing it on.

Why should I trust uncredentialed non-experts to tell me what to wear, eat or drive? If I want a healthy dessert, I’ll ask a nutritionist, not Sylvester Stallone, though I’m sure his high-protein pudding is quite delicious. Samsonite’s been making suitcases for almost a century, so why do I need Jessica Simpson’s new luggage? If you ask me, the girl has enough baggage already.

I do, however, have faith in Danny DeVito, who’s hawking something called Premium Limoncello, which is not a fine stringed instrument but an Italian liqueur. In fact, it’s what he’d been imbibing before appearing on “The View” in a rather juiced-up state. Any man with enough sense to tie one on before facing that flock of cackling hens is a man I can trust.

KIDS SLAY THE DARNEDEST THINGS!

2009-06-05T23:30:00.001-05:00

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL

In honor of National Children’s Day, which takes place on Sunday, June 14, I’d like to give you parental types a little something to think about. The next time little Billy “discovers” science by putting a raw egg in the microwave or little Susie uses your $25 Color Fever™ lipstick to draw a hopscotch on the hardwood floor, take a deep breath, count to 10 and remind yourself it could be much, much worse. Then thank your lucky stars you’re not raising one of these terrifying tykes!

Henry Evans, "The Good Son"
Macaulay Culkin's Kevin McAllister had a sadistic streak in "Home Alone," but he was a rank amateur compared to Henry, whose idea of fun includes causing accidents by tossing a life-size dummy off an overpass, killing animals with a crossbow and picking off his younger siblings one by one. You’d think it wouldn’t take him trying to push her off a cliff for his oblivious mother to realize she's raising "Henry, Portrait of a Future Serial Killer."

Isaac, "Children of the Corn"
If you ever get a flat in Gatlin, Neb. (population: 968 and rapidly dwindling), don't bother calling AAA; roadside service isn’t much use in a town where most residents are too young to drive. Your best bet is to keep rolling on the rims till you hit the next town. Otherwise, creepy Isaac and his followers will take you directly to "He Who Walks Behind The Rows" – and I’m pretty sure he’s not a mechanic.

Reagan MacNeil, "The Exorcist"
At first, Reagan's acting out is thought to be the result of her parents' recent divorce. I mean, what kid HASN'T crashed Mom's dinner party by piddling on the carpet? When she starts gushing great green gouts of pea-soup vomit, it's obvious there's a darker force at work. To be fair, Reagan (Linda Blair) can't be blamed for her demonic behavior. After all, the devil made her do it.

The children, "Village of the Damned" (the 1960 original)
Rapidly aging blonds with blank expressions – no, not Paris Hilton and Britney Spears, but eerie, mutant spawn of inexplicable origin, capable of mind control that forces adults to do their bidding, including committing suicide. These towheaded terrors will make you think twice before telling “dumb blond” jokes.

Rhoda Penmark, "The Bad Seed"
Thanks to a brilliant portrayal by Patty McCormack of pure evil that's seldom been rivaled and never bettered, this pigtailed preteen set the bar for Hollywood hellspawn. If this murderous moppet has a moral compass, it's undoubtedly stuck on "south of Hades."

Damien Thorn, "The Omen"
He may look innocent, but there's something "off" about this kid. Maybe it's his aversion to churches. Or the way people have a curious habit of dying violently when he's around. One thing’s for sure: This is one instance in which “You’re just like your no-good father” is an appropriate admonishment!