Out With the Old, In With the New

For the last two years I've written a humor column called "U've Got To Be Kidding" for a Florida family magazine. Last week I sent in my most recent column only to receive an e-mail from the editor that said, essentially, "Oops, guess you didn't get the e-mail that the magazine folded."

Ah, no, I didn't.

But that's fine--assignments come and go.  I'm kind of wondering if I'm in a "go" phase. Aside from this, two of my columns for other magazines didn't appear last month. I e-mailed both editors to ask if there was (ahem!) anything I ought to know, and both assured me content had just run high that month and they'd had to bump the columns for that one issue only.

I've been extremely fortunate in that I've had long runs with several magazines, writing marketing or humor columns for them for years. There's such a high turnover in magazines that when an editor leaves, it's not uncommon for a "housecleaning" to occur, and new columnists brought in to freshen up the content. 

While I'm sad to lose this humor column, I believe losing one thing often opens the doors for others to present themselves. For example, I've just started ghostwriting two online articles a month for a new editor and I love the assignment.  I've also had bites at new project areas that I'm hoping to develop. So in essence, while it always feels safer to stick with what's known, letting go of comfort zones has always worked to move my career in new and unexpected directions.

I've had the hairs up on the back of my neck for almost a month now that change was in the air regarding my standing assignments. Losing this column might be the start of that. But I'm optimistic that whatever is lost, great gains are around the corner...

Woman With Sign

Last week I noticed an older woman standing by the side of the road near Friendly Shopping Center, holding a cardboard sign. The woman looks to be late 60's, thin, attractive. She was wearing khaki's and a buttoned down blue shirt and the kind of round-brimmed straw hat women wear when they garden. All in all, she looked to be an upper-middle class woman who indeed had just taken a break from planting flowers.

She stood not blinking or smiling or trying for eye contact. Her sign read, "Cancer Patient. Please Help."

That's it. No mention of homelessness or needing food. I really wasn't sure what to make of it. And I was even less sure when--3 hours later--I saw the same woman on the other side of town off Wendover Avenue, again with the sign. My first thought was that she's obviously got some form of transportation. I don't want to ding her for looking nice, but my next thought was that she really doesn't look hard up. I'm kind of curious as to what help she's looking for--money to pay her medical bills? Is anyone giving her any as they drive by? I've passed her about 4 times now on different days, and I've yet to see anyone give her cash.

I also don't know how I feel about her sign. Oddly, I almost feel defensive of the homeless people's territory, like I want to tell her, "Hey, you. You can't hold that sign here. This corner is for the people who really, truly have no where to turn." But maybe she doesn't have anywhere to turn. I don't know...

I won't say never, but I rarely give to people standing on street corners. I just don't know that's the solution we're all looking for.  Some people think those on corners are scamming us, or are just after drug/alcohol money and that may be true, but I also think if you're standing outside 10 hours a day in the burning sun or freezing wind, chances are you do have problems much greater than mine and maybe it wouldn't hurt to give a little. But this whole cancer sign woman bothers me--like maybe it's ushering in a new era.

I guess we'll wait and see.

MacGyver Lives

MacGyver was a popular TV show in the 80's where the lead character used his wits instead of violence to outwit bad guys. Able to build a telescope from a toothpick and gum or create a car bomb from a Tickle Me Elmo doll, MacGyver had the moves.

Blair likes to fashion himself a modern day MacGyver. We have a joke that stems from when we first moved into our home, twelve years ago.  The drainpipes outside needed cleaning, so Blair took some nylon scrubbies and hung them on a fishing wire which he weighted. The idea being he would cast the line down the drainpipe, the weights carrying it to the bottom, and all the internal debris would be wiped clean by the scrubbies that were pulled through the pipes. His face was positively glowing as he showed me his invention. "You are a total MacGyver," I told him.

Two hours later he reentered the house, looking as if he'd been in a cat fight. His hair was mussed, his arms scraped and bruised, dried blood on his hands... "What happened?" I exclaimed.

Turns out the scrubbies got caught on metal pieces inside the pipe, thereby completing a complete block of the pipes, and Blair spent the better part of the day tussling, cursing, and struggling to remove them. A sad day for him, but one that worked in my favor. Now whenever he wants to try something weird around the house I just have to say, "Scrubbies," and it usually silences him.

But I acquiesced the other night when he started building a barricade across the wooden blinds in our bedroom. Olivia has taken to climbing on top of a wooden chest we have under the window and banging on the blinds at 4 AM--her signal for us to get up and feed her. It really is disrupting to our sleep patterns so Blair decided to train her to stop.

To that end, MacGyver-Harris used posterboard, Sticky Paws double-sided tape, and wire hangers to hang this contraption in front of our windows that, at least last night, worked. Basically, there is sticky tape in Olivia's reach so if she reaches up to bang the blinds, she's not going to like that. Hopefully we'll train her to keep away and then we can remove the...thing....from our windows. (Invention isn't always pretty...)

Even if it works, I'm still holding on to my upper hand. I will never, EVER  give up the catch-phrase, "Scrubbies."

Bring Back the 90 Minute Movie!

When I was a kid, movies ran a standard length of 90 minutes. Occasionally you'd get the 2-hour flick which was considered really long. But as a child, I loved them. I wondered why movies couldn't be 3 or 4 hours in length. My reasoning being, if you're paying for a ticket, might as well get your money's worth. Plus, I was nine. What else did I have going on?

Ahh...the days of youth. As a now grouchy soon-to-be 37-year-old, I am SICK of movies that run close to 3 hours. I have a LIFE that needs attending to, Hollywood people.  Please, please, please, dial back the special effects and nonsensical crap and just give me a decent 120-minute or under flick.

What's caused this angst is that we spent the day today seeing SpiderMan III. I say the day because it's a 2 1/2 hour movie, plus 45-minute drive time each way, which pretty much eats up the afternoon. Could the movie have been shortened? Easily. I know I'm no Hollywood scriptwriter or expert, but I really think some mega-producers would get their money's worth by paying me my hourly rate of $90 for a day to preview a film and show them what to cut and what dialogue just has GOT to go.

A side rant: Sequels.  EVERY preview we saw today was for a sequel:

• The Bourne Ultimatum (#3)
• Pirates of the Caribbean (#3)
• The Fantastic Four (#2)
• Harry Potter (#127 or whatever it is they're on now...)
• Transformers. (Okay, that's brand new but I've got to tell you...it looked exactly like the 3 other action flicks previewed and therefore still receives the dreaded "Dena Ding" for unoriginality)

Anyone besides me ready for something new and unique to hit the big screens?