Deep Fears

What are you afraid of, Lone Reader? Has it changed over time?

When I was younger, (notice I said “young-er” not “young”) (delusional – ed.) I was terrified of spiders. Even small spiders scared me. Did it help that my dad would chase me around with any spider that he had caught inside the house? No, it did not. Years later my daughter developed a love of bugs and I found myself reading books like “Tarantulas: They’re so Dang Cute” and “Brownie Recluse Finds a Friend”. I am not so scared of a common house spider now; I’m actually okay with squishing them myself. (I’m not a carry-the-bug-outside type of gal. I want the other creepy crawlies to see the mangled corpse and recognize it as a prescient totem of what happens inside this house.)

I’m still terrified of haunted houses. I know, you’re thinking, “One is supposed to be scared of such things, Velma.” Well, my mom put me and my freakishly gigantic now-we-know-what-ADHD-is neighbor Annie Sue on a haunted house ride at a county carnival when we were not yet in Kindergarten. It was pitch black inside, with crazy noises. When one of the scary guys reached out and touched our hair, we stopped crying and started screaming. He started telling us to calm down it was okay, but you know, it’s hard to absorb that lesson when it’s being taught by a teenager in zombie makeup. I have no desire to ever, ever go in a haunted house.

Hmm…writing about fears seems to have brought to the fore the really bizarre parenting I endured. Oh well, on the whole I turned out okay and I think those are both fears I can live with. Oh sure, I have the standard parenting fears – Will my kids be healthy? What if they take drugs? What if they won’t share? – but I think in general I’m pretty fearless. I know I’ll go in a shark cage at some point in my life. I’ve committed (at least in my mind) to sky-diving. I can take down a sketchy employee in a heartbeat. What more do you need in life? How many spider-filled haunted houses are there in the world?

Stay brave, little soldier and watch out! The call is coming from inside the house!

Sea Monkey Class Action Suit

Frida and the Brine Shrimp by Kipling West

Official Legal Notice: Were you ever disappointed by “Sea Monkeys”? Do you feel like your life has taken a hollow and disturbing course because that first crushing disappointment of finding out that Sea Monkeys don’t wear crowns and do tricks? Can your first foray into booze be linked to the hours spent trying to teach tricks to brine shrimp? Let me know. I think we’ve got to recognize the trauma induced lo those many years ago and the only balm to sooth these ancient wounds is cold hard cash.


From the official Sea Monkeys website:
Sea-Monkeys® are a true miracle of nature. They exist in suspended animation inside their tiny eggs for many years. The instant-life crystals, in which the eggs are enclosed, preserve their viability and help to extend still further their un-hatched life span! Sea-Monkeys are real Time-Travelers asleep in biological time capsules for their strange journey into the future!

 The joy of watching Sea-Monkeys grow offers a lot more than just pure fun. It is one of the outstanding educational experiences of a lifetime, because the entire life-cycle of these unique creatures are fully recreated. Conceived in 1960 as a biological novelty, the “fantasy” has transformed into brilliant reality.

My Sea Monkey experience is almost universal:
I fell in love with the sweet-faced family in the back of a comic book. Doing tricks? Trainable? Enjoyment for hours? Sweet Jesus, sign me up! Imagine my surprise when, upon finally receiving said pets, I discovered that they actually resemble motes of dust floating on the lemonade at Shakey's Pizza. Where were the crowns? The Poseidon-like sceptre? I needed something to staunch the searing pain in my 7-year-old heart…I took my first hit of angel dust that very morning.

Join me, Lone Reader, as we confront the very sea beasts that left us these shallow hulls of humans.

Random Thoughts

- Isaac Hayes died yesterday...he was one bad mutha. Here's hopin' for lots o' foxy chicks in heaven.

- Does anyone else find it crazy that the match.com ad says, "If you don't find someone in the first 6 months, the next 6 are free"? If you don't like this carp (yes, I said carp) we'll give you a double portion...

- According to an AP story, scientists are close to creating a compound that cloaks 3D objects, rendering them invisible. Why are they working on this when the Jetsons promised there'd be personal jet packs by now?!

- Did you watch the Frenchies get their comeuppance in last night's 400 meter relay last night? "Smash the Americans" indeed! I will say, I find the "countdown 'til the next glimpse of Michael Phelps" that NBC keeps up is REALLY tiring. And Michael Phelps, pull up your suit. I mean, I don't want to sound like a curmudgeon, but really, we don't need to know that much about you.

- There's a nice article in the NYT about Edward Hopper's paintings of Cape Cod and how those landscapes have changed over the years. I miss the ocean sooo much. (Beware, the story has auto audio.)

- Also in the NYT, Jane Brody's article on coffee's health benefits. Okay, there are also some detriments listed, thus the title "Sorting Out Coffee's Contradictions" but I read it as "Yay for Caffeine!"

- And in another AP story, St. Paul teens are caught when police followed the orange Cheetos trail leading from the vandalized snack machine at Arlington Rec. right to the three teens with orange fingers. That's why you gotta go with Bugles, boys...you can pop them over your fingernails and turn into a super hero that can scratch out of any sitch. Plus, no tell-tale orange dust. (Was that a Poe story?)

- I had a great weekend, very low-key and I'm looking forward to my niece's third birthday tomorrow. Today I took my dog to the vet and he does have cataracts. He is mainly blind. He had some bloodwork done, then I got a referral to a veterinary opthamologist. Jinkies! That sounds expensive, doesn't it? We'll see (no pun intended.)

Happy Monday, Lone Reader! You rock!

In mourning

for John Edwards' political career. Sure, you can be forgiven for an affair, but cheating on your wife while she publicly battles an extremely virulent form of cancer? Sorry, dude. Your Mr. Nice Guy days are over. It's too bad - I liked a lot of his ideas, and had secretly hoped for an Obama/Edwards ticket. (I know, it wasn't going to happen anyway.) Since having a baby, the other woman has lived in a serious of swanky homes under assumed names. Edwards has said that he didn't pay for them, but admits that some of his associates may have helped her financially without telling him about it. :sigh: Are there good guys left out there?


On the plus side, at least it wasn't Obama.

Wo-arrrr!

He's been found! Yay! After calling the restaurant, searching at the political headquarters and the mid-century furniture store, the Lego Chewbacca was found...in my son's pocket.

Kings of the Road

Mini-Roadtrip Part 1.

Well, Lone Reader, it’s been a long trip, 4ril. On Tuesday morning I took off with the kids for House on the Rock in Wisconsin. Yes, it IS 4 hours away. For those of you not familiar with this behemoth, it is the most popular privately-owned attraction in Wisconsin. (According to them anyway.) It is a house built by one Mr. Alex Jordan after being dissed by local architect and luminary Frank Lloyd Wright. The original house does feel like a crappy version of a FLW house – low-slung and Japanese-y. After the original house, you go through the collection rooms. It seems Mr. Jordan and later his son collected all sorts of stuff – parts of old cars, mechanical banks, jewelry store displays, carousel horses, etc. Room after room of this stuff kept the kids entertained and makes me think of all the stuff I want to get rid of when I get home. (No hoarding syndrome here, pal.) It was interesting to me to see the obvious anti-Semitism of the antique jewelry store displays…am I the only person who noticed that?


Some of the displays are incredibly weird - this goat girl plays a mechanical fiddle. A reference to the profane nature of man? Nero? The perv who lives in Apt. 113? I dunno. It does take an incredibly long time to get through the whole thing and the cheesiness of the displays wears on one after awhile. Some of the things displayed are authentic, some are fakes, but there’s no labeling to let you know. By the end you’re praying for relief and to feel the warmth of the sun on your face. (The whole place is super dark.) Nonetheless, I’ve always been a sucker for the trappings of the insane and this place surely qualifies. (Get me to a grotto and I’ll be yours for life.) The kids really loved it.

Mini-Roadtrip Part 2.

After an evening’s rest at a lovely Best Western (seriously, it was a lovely Best Western!) we headed to Cave of the Mounds. This was, for me, the best part of our little jaunt. It’s an interesting cave that was discovered in 1939 by quarry workers blasting. By 1940 thousands of visitors had traipsed through the cave. We were there yesterday and we had a lovely tour, given by a woman who had been a cave guide when she was a teen in the 50s and now has returned to work in her retirement. She was very informative, and gave us a lot of background about the ways the cave has changed in the last 50 years. The grounds are magnificently planted with prairie restoration and lots of attention to detail, and the gift shop features minerals, fossils and gemstones more prominently than the usual tschockes. I will say, it’s ridiculous to go to a cave and have the guide constantly point out “the eagle”, the “breakfast table” and silly interpretations like that. We get it – just like clouds – you see what you’re looking for. There were no colored lights or big swells of music on the tour, though, which I appreciated. (I still remember going to Meremac Caverns as a kid and seeing the light show on a stalactite formation while Kate Smith’s “God Bless America” blared over loudspeakers.) Cave of the Mounds was all very earnest and low-key, which was nice.


On the way back we stopped in Mount Horeb to go to the World Famous Mustard Museum. Very funny, I must say. I spent an insane amount of time trying to decide whether or not to buy my ex-father-in-law a fake diploma from “Poupon U.” Ultimately, it was not to be. I did buy some mustard from the vending machine, though. (!) They take their condiments seriously in Mount Horeb.

We then started the long, long trip home. Part of 94 is down to one lane, and the kids were beyond surly to be sitting at a dead stop. (I, on the other hand, was thrilled.) I slept like a baby on Benadryl last night and today, I’m fresh as a daisy, fit as a fiddle, and many other clichés you can imagine.

Sadly a Lego Chewbacca was lost today. We’ve had many frantic searches and tearful outbursts. He was a good Wookie…we’ll miss him so. Keep your powder dry, Lone Reader and more soon! (heart), Velma

What is it girl? Did Timmy break his nose?

So much to report, Lone Reader!

I did a little back-to-school shopping with one of my very best pals, one Miss Rib-Eye. It was brief, but so much fun. Okay, it wasn’t all that productive, but still, monster fun. She also gave me my b-day gifts including the most revolting smelling product this side of rotting pigeons – bacon mints! I love them! Allow me to clarify - I love the idea of them and I love their charming little tin...they taste like dirty *ss and Listerine. I’ve made just about everyone I know smell the nauseating contents of this darling thing. Oh the merriment I’ve had – thank you, Miss Rib-Eye!

I watched the documentary Crazy Love this weekend. I highly recommend this breathtaking work. It’s truly astonishing story with so many bizarre characters that it’s difficult to believe. I won’t reveal the big twists and turns, but will say to stay with it through the fairly slow first part of the narrative.

I also saw a Fringe Festival play, Deviants by Live Action Set. Was it good? Absolutely. Would I want to see it again? No way. It’s not for the faint of heart and definitely not for children. It left me speechless – not an easy task.

I sold my Ting Ting tickets for tonight on craigslist. Man, there were a lot of people wanting to go! I was offered a small fortune for the tickets, but went down the list of responses in order and sold them for face plus ticketmaster to a guy who really wanted to go. All’s well, blah, blah, blah.

Sadly, custody problems have reared their ugly mugs and I find myself spending time and other such rare resources to deal with it. It’s very trying.

Thus, no Elvis Cake yet!! I am so fried by work and the post-divorce crazy that it’s been all I can do to get the laundry done. So, in lieu of Elvis Cake pix, I give you a TRUE STORY:

When I first moved to MN, I had a beloved pug, Billy. My then-spouse worked second shift, and one cold and icy night I decided to take the dog out for a brisk walk late at night. The air was a little painful in the lungs, but it was so beautiful out. I decided to run. If you know me, you know how ludicrous this is – the last time I ran was a decade before when a cab driver in Italy chased me. Not to mention trying to get what is basically a lapdog to run in a Minnesota winter.

I not-so-wisely put on my big wool mittens and headed out. All was well until about three blocks from my house. I hit a patch of ice and fell forward. Of course I caught myself on my hands…which slipped on the ice (thank you mittens!) and made my head snap back then down on the pavement like I was being hammered in a wrestling ring. (or so I’m told) I felt like an ice pick was in my nose, my head hurt and there was blood everywhere. Billy! Billy?! Where was the dog? Of wait, I loved him so much that I still had the end of his leash wrapped around my palm. She went down, but saved her dog…that’s right, the same dog that, as I lay face down, dazed on the sidewalk, walked over to me with such concern and love in his eyes as he started lapping at the steaming puddle of my sticky blood on the sidewalk. No Lassie here, my friends, just a pug that was real thirsty after being dragged outside for a midnight run.