gratitude-a-thon day 608: bye Dave

It’s hard to say goodbye to cultural icons. David Letterman signed off last night in a blaze of celebrity adulation and laughs. Dave, a sarcastic smart ass was something totally different when Late Night was born in 1993. He was the cool guy on campus, the one who was so much hipper than Carson. And just by watching, you felt cooler, too.

I saw him live when I lived in NYC. It was an all day waiting game I shared with my brother-in-law. We were in the last row, but it was awesome, although the set was so much smaller than it looked on tv. There was nothing small about Dave, however.

I don’t stay up to watch Dave anymore. But still, this passing makes me reflect on the passage of time, in a way that startles me. Thanks to David Letterman for all the laughs, all the moments, and all the next day re-enactments of the Top 10 List. Which brings me to last night’s Top 10 List. It was perfect.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BBf8MyGaEk4

gratitude-a-thon day 607: the guy who follows his girlfriend around

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I don’t know whether it’s the layers of blingy and breathtaking clothing, or the phenomenal sites of India, but this dude’s Instagram is BEYOND the freaking beyond. Take a peak at this, and wipe your drool. Would it be wrong to dress like this daily?Like, could I get away unnoticed in Whole Foods?

gratitude–a-thon day 606: a perfect series finale: mad men

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I loved the Mad Men finale. LOVED IT.

I thought the show was two hours, so I wasn’t prepared when the Coke commercial came on, but once I got myself together and realized it was the parting shot, I was all in. Once a Mad Man, always a mad man. Don took his experience at Esalen and sold it.  Advertising people listen to research, and take strategy to heart, but we also know what compels us as people, and we use it. All the time.

For me, the question is, did Don really free himself on that hill with the word “om” coming out of his mouth, or was that smile just that of a copywriter coming up with his next great idea? I’m not sure. Certainly, he had a breakdown after he found out Betty was dying, and certainly he connected with “Mr.Refrigerator” after his “I can’t move,” moment near the phone, so we did have some lead up to a possible emotional breakthrough for Don, but I wonder if he was really able to change his spots? Did he go back to New York and write the Coke commercial, and continue to womanize, and booze it up? Or did he really forgive himself, and drink the Esalen experience Kool-Aid? I could really go either way here. I want to believe he truly changed, but there’s this nagging voice in the back of my head that wonders if Don, who has always been able to spin a tale, and has always had his thumb on the zeitgeist of the times, just did it again.

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Don is actually a walking ad. He’s charming and handsome. His outsides are perfect. His insides, however, are dark and stormy– a jumbled web of lies. In advertising you are always aiming to make your product the star, to downplay or hide the cons, and focus on the pros. This is Don. It was impossible not to buy him from the outside, but once you were on the inside, you began digging for your receipt and wondering about the return policy.

The intro title sequence of Mad Men, astoundingly cool,  has always made people conjecture that the finale would end with Don plunging to his death. But after seeing the real finale, and taking another look, it seems to me like it’s really Don’s fall to earth, his whirring past advertising images, or his “fake” life, and ending up sitting back in his office with a cigarette in hand. There was a journey, but he winds up back in business, wiser, we hope.

While some people didn’t appreciate the “packaged” feeling of the finale, I really liked seeing where our fictional friends were heading. Peggy and Stan was not a surprise to me. It has seemed obvious to me for quite some time. Since Peggy’s drive to to be taken seriously as a woman in advertising was her primary determination, the only way she was going to find love is if it was with someone in the business, and Stan, in the most 60’s of uniforms and head spaces, accepted Peggy’s ambition, and loved her for it. This was a natural. I don’t think allowing Peggy a happy love life diminishes this character and her mission.Why shouldn’t she have both?

Joan, who begins as a secretary, and is always judged for her looks (and let’s face it, hard not to notice Joan’s torpedo like breasts before anything else about her), has a chance to be coveted and financially taken care of for life, but instead chooses to fulfill herself through the challenge of work, makes sense to me. This is a woman who has always wanted to prove that she is more than her bra size.

Betty and Don’s conversation broke my heart. Those two characters have always loved each other. Her conversation with Don is the only time we ever see Betty’s icy stoicism break since her diagnosis. Sally, who has had a rough childhood with her narcisistic parents, is now the head of the household, stepping up in a way that niether her mom or dad ever did.

I was surprised that Pete got such a happy ending. But his character seemed to go through the most 360 transformation of all. It seemed appropriate that he got a lame goodbye from the agency. I was especially moved by the scene between he and Peggy. That cactus, a reminder of a much pricklier small gift from Pete years earlier.

And Roger, always the lothario, finally meets his match. Best line: “I met her through Megan Draper. She’s old enough to be her mother. Actually, she is her mother.” I will really miss Roger (although not his mustache).


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What an astoundingly brilliant show Mad Men was. From its incredibly beautiful and superbly authentic art direction, to characters who were flawed and interesting, I bought this show hook, line and sinker. This was the best series finale I’ve ever seen. Weiner got it perfectly right. Ending with a commercial was crazy good–it was a story about advertising, after all. I am going to miss this show, dare I say, madly.

gratitude-a-thon day 605: we got it wrong

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I was in the car listening to Magic 106.7, when I heard the mild voice of the DJ saying that Dhohkar Tsarnaev had been sentenced to death. My mouth opened into an oversized O (why do we do that when we’re surprised, I wonder). I switched over to NPR, and looked around to see if other drivers were reacting, but then thought better of it, and kept my eyes on the road (but my mouth stayed open, I just closed it like a an half hour ago).

I don’t believe in the death penalty. I always say that if someone killed my family or friends, I might feel differently, but I don’t think so.

What Tsarnaev did is unspeakable.

It was brutal, inhuman, and grotesque. I am sickened by his actions, overwhelmed with sadness and grief for the people who were directly affected, and gave lives, and limbs. But we are not a state that believes in killing our criminals. Who were these jurors? Were they, as they were supposed to be, “a jury of your peers.” Doesn’t that mean a cross section of people? Just the idea that you had to believe in the death penalty to be on the jury seems wrong to me.

Also, by the way, the death penalty is not legal in Massachusetts, The case shouldn’t have been tried here. And what about the Richards family, who so poignantly and clearly asked that the death penalty not be the verdict, so that they could begin to heal. Shouldn’t the primary concern be for the survivors of this brutal crime?

I feel all sorts of emotions about this verdict. And I’ll be honest, I think about what that boy must be feeling. I have a boy similar in age. Whether he goes to that max security prison in Colorado, where he’ll be in solitary for 23 1 /2 hours a day, or given a lethal injection, his life is over.

The idea that the appeals process will keep this case in the news, not allowing the survivors to get away from the names and images of April 15, 2013,  unless they move to a remote island in the middle of the middle of nowhere, is not right. It’s just not right. Life in prison would have meant an occasional mention, but this, this will be an ongoing marathon of images and discussions.

It’s wrong. I think we got it wrong. And as wrong as what happened was and will always be, is as wrong as this verdict.

gratitude-a-thon day 603: small bites friday

Beach people, feast on this.

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State Cup game last night. The referees were literally SLEEPING, like, in a COMATOSE state. I’m not mad about the unfairness of it all, but I’m out of my mind because two of our players were hurt due to the “vow of silence” reffing. Ally scored, and played an amazing game, as did her whole super awesome team. We won, but this was a dangerous battle. And it was not cool.

Fox news, NEVER CEASES TO AMAZE. Hey women, we’re happier at home. Let’s invite this dude to dinner and show him how happy we are.

And for all those “happier at home” moms, check this out. Who doesn’t love to clean (hint: ME).

These guys are heroes! That train crash was horrible. Having actually been in a train accident, where three people were killed, I can tell you, it’s terrifying.

There will be music in heaven tonight. Bye bye, B.B.

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Don’t you just love looking at real estate (that could fit in your palm)!

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Mad Men-athon began Wednesday night and will show every episode until big finish on Sunday. Here’s Salon’s list of best eps.

gratitude–a-thon day 602: coming out of the closet

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Seriously, THREE Tees? ONE BLACK DRESS? WHA??????

I so wish I was that pared down wardrobe woman who has like only two black shirts because that’s what’s efficient. I have like 50 black shirts, if I have one. (Black is the new black. Don’t let anybody try to tell you it’s not for CRYING OUT LOUD.) I have a large, oversized, somewhat ridiculous 💗 of clothes. I am all I-WANT-THAT-RIGHT-NOW, this-shirt-will-change-my-life, oh-my-God-I’m-drooling-on-the-jeans-now-I-have-to-buy-them, if-I-don’t-bring–this-home-today-I will-spontaneously-combust, my-closet-begged-me-for-this-how-could-I-say-no. It’s a little problem. I am working on it.

So, like look at this article. They had me at “French women.” Because you know how THEY are. One flick of the scarf, and I’m practically faint. All that style, and the Eiffel Tower, too. NOT Fair. But I digress. Five piece wardrobe. What would I do with all my closet space?

I'm sorry, but where's all your stuff?
I’m sorry, but where’s all your stuff?

Actually, I would love to be more together in this department. I would love to be able to slide my hangers easily, and see what the hell it is I own, but I seem to be immune to that kind of order. I am drawn to volume, and choices. Still, a girl can dream. And hey look, super psyched that Ellen is coming out with her own line of clothes. I wonder if wearing them makes you funnier?

gratitude-a-thon day 601: tell someone

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In honor of Mental Health Awareness month, I’ve been seeing article on mental illness all over the place, but I thought this was a good one to share. A whopping 31% of people struggling with mental illness don’t want to seek treatment because they fear being judged. Sweet Jesus, make it stop. We need to open up the damn windows on this subject, and air out the room. Please be mindful of those around you who might be suffering in silence. Please talk openly about depression. It’s our world to change. Let’s all do our part. And if you are so inclined, please give to the kick ass organization Cure Alliance. 

gratitude-a-thon day 589: to you, mom, the mother of all people

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Hey Moms,

It’s your day. You know why? Because you took on a role that is so daunting, so often thankless, and so gosh darn important, you have convinced society to celebrate you for 24 hours. You should actually be celebrated for, like, a fucking year, but a day is what you get, so, like you so often have to do, shut up and make the best of it.

We celebrate you today, mom. Whether you are a stay-at-home, a work-from-home, or work from work version, a biological, adopted, or friend-in-need type, today is the day that everybody tips their hat to you and your multi-tasking ability, your selflessness, your really good mac and cheese. Today is the day that your children will be taken by the police and put behind bars unless they have purchased, or made you a card. Some of you may get breakfast in bed, others may get to go out to dinner accompanied by your brood, still others may be receiving flora, fauna, or bling. This is your day to shine, and I’m not talking about the silver mama, so enjoy your moment.

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Today we stop and give thanks for your amazing ability to annoy and agitate. We put our hands together for your intuition, your guts, your sixth sense. We bow down to your laundry skills, and bed making prowess. Today we put you, however briefly, on a pedestal, for the way you grocery shop, and drive us to multiple locations while listening to music you hate. We envy your keen ability to make a boo boo go away with a kiss, and your reluctant acceptance of your post pregnancy body. We canonize you for always having to take out the dog, for letting us borrow your clothes (and ruin them), for continually having to empty the dishwasher. We treasure the way you can juggle life’s obligations with a kid on one hip and a career on the other. We adore you for nagging us to do our homework and clean our rooms, use manners, and take a shower, the stuff that will help us in our lives.

We especially commend you today, mom, for putting up with us, as we mature. We know we’re not that easy, and can be downright impossible. We marvel at your good nature, your generosity, and the way you have not given into the desire to smack us across the face on multiple occasions.

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You are a rock star. You are the unspoken hero of our lives. You are the most special person we know.

And today, we tell you, even though the rest of the days, we just carry it around it in our hearts.

Happy Mother’s Day, Moms, all of you, every last one of you. Today is yours. And you deserve it (and let’s face it, so much more, too).