WTF?? Are they deaf??!!

Someone at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame has been sleeping on the job. No, not someone. Everyone, apparently.

I'm sitting here listening to Jim Croce and wondering (for the millionth time) how they've managed to snub him all these years. Yeah, some could argue that he wasn't rock & roll, that he was more folk than anything. But he's got quite a few songs that are more rock than folk. OK - I'll compromise - we'll go with rockabilly. But hello?! Carl Perkins is more rockabilly than rock & roll. And for crying out loud, if James Taylor can get inducted into the R&R Hall of Fame, why not Croce??!! Don't get me wrong. I don't have an issue with James Taylor, but hey, he's not the first name that comes to mind when I think of rock & roll. Croce was a great American singer/songwriter. We lost him way too early. I would have loved to see what he would have added to his catalog of songs.

As long as I'm on the subject of snubs at the R&R Hall of Fame...

What about the Moody Blues?? Justin Hayward is a guitar god that doesn't get anywhere near the recognition he should. (And this has nothing to do with the R&RHoF but he's still pretty damn hot at 59.) And John Lodge?! He's one of the best bass players out there. (And also off the subject, he still looks pretty sweet in leather pants.) But back to the music...in 1993, the chief astronaut from NASA flew to LA to present the Moodies with a plaque. The plaque had original pictures of different American shuttle missions and had a tape mounted to it. The tape contained the albums "Days of Future Passed" and "Seventh Sojourn" Why, you ask? Because the astronauts take those albums into space with them. Every time. That's over 10 million miles. If you've never seen the Moodies live, do it before it's too late. They put on an incredible show, even without Ray Thomas, who retired a few years ago. I pray they never find the lost chord.

And what about Warren Zevon?? He's another one we lost way too soon. Sure, everyone knows "Werewolves of London" and "Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner" and a few others. But the guy wrote an incredible collection of songs. "Excitable Boy." "The Envoy." "Searching for a Heart." ("They say love conquers all, you can't start it like a car, you can't stop it with a gun...") "Gorilla, You're a Desperado." "Mr. Bad Example." I could list songs all afternoon.

And Jimmy Buffett?? Don't even get me started on that! The Beach Boys have been inducted (as they should have been), but they don't have a corner on the Trop-Rock market. Radio has done to Buffett what they did to Zevon. They play 2 or 3 songs to death and ignore the rest. It's just not right.

Well, let's just hope someone over at the R&RHoF pulls the cotton out of their ears pretty soon and gives credit where credit is due.

Like being free? Thank a veteran

I make my living processing payrolls. It can be rather depressing...bonus checks for $25,000, seeing people meet their FICA limit by May (that means they've already made close to $90K)... the list never ends. The only thing I can take comfort in is that a lot of these people are dumb as a stump. Maybe I'm crazy (maybe??), but as nice as that money would be, I'd rather have my IQ and common sense.

So today is Veteran's Day and that means the banks are closed and there is no mail delivery. At the end of last week, we figured we'd save ourselves some headaches and call the clients that have Friday as a payday and warn them that they may want to send in the payroll early and date it for Thursday. I can't even guess at how many said "Friday's a holiday?? WHAT holiday?!" It disgusted me, really.

Everybody seems to know when Columbus Day is coming. Clueless about Veteran's Day. Is there something wrong with that or is it just me?? Now, I won't deny that Columbus has an important place in history. But HOW can people be more aware of Columbus Day than Veteran's Day?? The guy stole land, sold the people that tried to befriend him into slavery and anyone that thinks he wasn't raping native women is living in a dreamworld. As far as I'm concerned, the creep shouldn't even have his own holiday.

And yet, people remember Columbus Day and not Veteran's Day. Well, why should they, really? We're only talking about remembering people that have been there to defend our country and our way of life. You know what I mean - think back to American History class and a little scrap of paper called the US Constitution. (Is the sarcasm oozing out of your monitor yet??)

"We the people of the United States

in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility,

provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare

and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity

do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America."

What a beautiful bunch of words. You can keep Shakespeare. I'll take the Preamble.

My Uncle Bill was a B-17 pilot in World War II. He was shot down and spent 23 months in a german POW camp. (My mother was german and served in the Luftwaffe, btw - THAT made for some interesting family get-togethers.) 23 months. Almost 2 years of his life was spent in a flea and louse infested hell-hole to preserve the ideals of our forefathers. Many have paid the ultimate price for the same reason. For me. For you.

So the next time you see a veteran...do yourself a favor. Say thanks. It'll make you feel good, trust me.

A really big dinner...I mean REALLY big

I love to cook. And not to sound conceited, but I'm pretty good at it too. Today I found a recipe I want to try. Not because I want to eat the end result...no. It's the culinary challenge I'm after in this one. I want to make a...turducken.

A boneless 3-4 pound chicken layered with shrimp dressing..stuffed into a boneless 5-6 pound duckling layered with andouille dressing...stuffed into a boneless 15-20 pound turkey layered with cornbread dressing. Check this out - http://www.chefpaul.com/turducken.html

Now, as is, I wouldn't eat it. I don't like duck. And Heaven knows I wouldn't use cornbread stuffing. No offense intended to the southerners out there. But we've been thru this - I'm a New England girl. My sister made it one year and honestly, I'm surprised my mother didn't rise up out of her grave, waving her wooden spoon and shouting horrible things in German. Cornbread, no...in my part of the world, turkey needs meat and bread stuffing.

But still...a turducken! What an incredible test of technical skill!! Makes me giddy just thinking about it. If nothing else, it's a good excuse to buy the expense chef's knife I've always wanted.

That recipe serves 24-30 people. I'm sure I know that many people, but are there that many people I can tolerate being around for a full dinner? Hmmm I dunno about that.

One of the most important links in Red Sox Nation

www.yanks-suck.com

HOW can a New Englander not love that?? I don't mean a transplant...I mean a real, honest-to-God New Englander that doesn't pronounce 90% of their R's, knows there are really 5 seasons not 4 (mud season is the 5th, falling between winter and spring) and doesn't see any sense in complaining about the weather because it'll be different in 5 minutes anyway.

I support two baseball teams. First and foremost, the BoSox, naturally. After that, it's whoever beats the Yankees. Yes, I'm back on the subject of the Evil Empire. I'm a bit obsessive. It's one of those things coded into my DNA. Relax, I'll keep it short.

Yanks-suck.com is a great site, full of anti-Yankees gear, anti-Yankees jokes and even...and this is my favorite part...free email. Yes, I have an address that ends in @yanks-suck.com. Check it out.

My God...who am I?

Manchester held its mayoral election today. I did something I haven't done since I was young and foolish...I voted republican. I know. I know. No one is more shocked than I am. Well, my brother might be. As far as he's concerned, I've been a couple of steps away from being a communist since I registered as a democrat. He is currently dancing a jig in the mountains of Maine...rejoicing that there is hope for his baby sister. Yeah, I did it...I confess. I not only voted for a republican, but i voted for a republican that's...God, can I even say it? He's from...AWAY. That's a big deal here in New Hampshire. I'm not super-thrilled that he's from Jersey, but at least he isn't from Massachusetts.

The incumbent mayor has been in office for 6 years and taxes have gone up every year. 20% in the last 4 years alone, from what I understand. The guy I voted for today (who I just found out won, by the way) has been serving the city as an alderman. Pretty much the same thing as city councilman, I guess. I missed this in the news, but I guess he tried to add 10 police officers to the force last spring and the mayor shot it down. Easy for him to do...living the fat cat life he lives in the rich part of town. Most of us though are right in the 'hood. Crack is being dealt in very close (too close!) proximity to where I sit as I type this. You gotta understand...I'm genetically predisposed to having major issues with authority, but given the choice between extra crack dealers and extra cops - I'll take the cops.

So, the next couple of years should be interesting. We'll see what the republican from Jersey has to offer the Queen City. Worst case scenario...we can get the crack dealers to chase him back to Jersey, right?

Ghosts and writing inspiration

I was supposed to spend this weekend working on my novel. Blasted thing won't write itself, after all. It's not coming easily this weekend, so here I am babbling away to you while I watch The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. No, I don't mean the 1968-1970 TV series with Hope Lange, Edward Mulhare and Charles Nelson Reilly. (Danny Bonaduce's dad was one of the writers, though...did you know that? I didn't until today.) I'm talking about the movie. 1947. Rex Harrison and Gene Tierney. 104 black and white minutes of ... magic. There's no other way to say it. This just has to be the most romantic movie I've ever seen.

I've never been real big on the girlie-girl stuff. I've alway been a bit of a tomboy. I preferred skateboards to Barbie dolls and climbing trees to tea parties. And when I watch a movie - more often than not, I wanna see things get blown up. I want to hear bones breaking. I want blood, dammit! Sure, sometimes I want a comedy. Fever Pitch almost made me wet my pants, but don't even get me started on that. We'll talk about that another day. And every now and then, I want romance. For me, that usually means one of three movies: The Princess Bride (which we'll also talk about another day), Casablanca or The Ghost and Mrs. Muir.

Gull Cottage is haunted by the ghost of a seaman, Captain Daniel Gregg. Local legend says he haunts it because he committed suicide there. The cottage has been empty for years because the captain has frightened every tenant away. In 1900, Lucy Muir, a young widow, moves into the seaside cottage with her young daughter, Anna, and their maid, Martha. Lucy doesn't let Gregg scare her off and they wind up becoming friends. He admires her spunk and decides to call her "Lucia" because it sounds more like a fiesty woman's name...anyway...

When money becomes an issue for her, he helps her write a book, "Blood and Swash" - his memoirs. Long story short - she meets a man at her publisher's office and falls for him. He eventually proposes and she accepts. The captain, who of course is in love with her by this time, comes to her in her sleep. He convinces her that the friendship she had with the ghost of a seaman was only a dream. He lets her go because for her to be truly happy, she must choose the living, not the dead and his presence would only confuse her. Her fiance turns out to be married so Lucy grows old alone, with just memories of her dream.

Even after the engagement is broken, the captain stays away. Many years later, Lucy nods off in her chair one evening and dies in her sleep. At the instant of her death, we hear the captain's voice..."Come, Lucia...come, m'dear." And his dear Lucia gets up...instantly young and radiant again and they walk off into eternity together. It reduces me to tears. Every time, without fail. You really have to see it to appreciate it. They don't make 'em like that anymore.

Hmmm...hey, I wonder..maybe working on my novel would be easier if I had a ghost dictating his memoirs. No..no...wait....scratch that - my book is about a serial killer....I'll do the work myself.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it

I'm a CSI junkie. No wait - I'm a forensics/profiling junkie. I faithfully watch all three incarnations of CSI - CSI, CSI: Miami and CSI: NY. And Crossing Jordan. And Bones. And Criminal Minds. If it has cadavers and/or the FBI, odds are I watch it. I subscribe to TV Guide. Used to love it, too. Every week, I'd anxiously wait for Wednesday so I could check out what's coming up. It's heartbreaking to say this, but I don't look forward to getting my copy of TV Guide anymore. Have you seen their "improvements" ????? They RUINED it.

Now, the title of the magazine is "TV Guide," right?? There's barely any guidance to be found in those pages anymore. It's all one big gossip rag. Hey, I like gossip just as much as the next woman, but for the love of God, if that's what I wanted, I'd subscribe to People magazine!!

No longer do they list virtually every hour of the day. It's pretty much strictly prime-time now. And you know, a three hour stretch that simply says "Local Programming" tells me exactly nothing. And of course, they waited til after I renewed my subscription to make these "improvements." Doesn't that just figure?!

They made the magazine bigger too. Sure, in most circumstances, bigger is better. But alas, the magazine that once fit so nicely on the arm of my chair no longer fits there and a suitable new home has yet to be found.

Sure, there are bigger problems in the world than how they ruined TV Guide. I'm enough of a realist to understand that. But the writer in me...the dreamer...longs for the days of a TV Guide that fit on the arm of her chair and actually provided information on what was on. Yes, I know...the world is an imperfect place.

The sexiest line in rock and roll

It belongs to Bruce Springsteen and it's in "Born to Run." No doubt about it. Of course, that's only my opinion. But this is MY blog, so my opinion is what matters. The world is an imperfect place. Deal with it.

"Just wrap your legs 'round these velvet rims

and strap your hands 'cross my engines."

Is it me or is it getting warm in here?? Seriously...that line is just the absolute bomb.

I gotta say - if I wrapped my legs around any part of Bruce Springsteen, it would take a crowbar and TNT to pry me loose. Well, there's one other thing that could do it, but we won't go there. Michael (see my "Friends" post) knows. 'Nuff said about that.

Talkin' 'bout friends...that's what it's all about

The subject today, boys and girls, is friendship. I don't just mean people you hang out with. I mean real, honest-to-God friendship. A connection so strong to another individual that you can't imagine your world without them. And no, I don't mean someone you're in love with, either. Being in love is awesome, but that's a topic for another day.

My best friend has been a major part of my life for...well, forever, it seems. We met in 7th grade. We were neighbors and I used to have to walk by his house every morning on my way to school. I had a crush on him at the time but hadn't really refined my flirting skills, so I'd wait for him to leave his house and I'd throw snowballs at him. Beaned him right in the head one day with a big ball of ice. It was a miracle he didn't get a concussion. Like I said...I hadn't refined my flirting skills yet. He ended up leaving for school (a 30 second walk from his front door) about a half hour early and running the whole way.

Blake Shelton has a song whose lyrics fit us pretty well...

"The only two bad apples on our family tree

Kinda ripened and rotted in our puberty

Two kindred spirits bound by destiny.

I was smart but I lacked ambition

(He) was wild with no inhibitions

It was about like mixin' fire and gasoline."

Things evolved a bit over the years. We had some pretty hot and heavy make out sessions. Woulda slept together if the cops hadn't started pounding on the door. Long story, don't ask, but we decided to take it as a sign from God. Things are strictly platonic now. But it's better this way. I have a partner in crime. An alibi. Why do I need an alibi, you ask? Oh, if I told you that, dear reader, I'd have to kill you.

He's been there thru every major crisis in my life. Every one of them. He stayed with me almost all night the night my mother died. Even managed to provide comic relief when my father died. Doesn't matter what's been wrong. He's always been there. And he always will be. I know that for a fact.

It's not a one way friendship...I've got his back too and he knows it. We have an understanding...if one of us lies, the other will swear to it. That's the kind of love that makes the world go 'round.

Remember - a friend will bail you out of jail...but a good friend will be sitting next to you saying "Damn! That was fun!"

What are these people smoking??!!

When it comes to religion and sex, I'm pretty much a "whatever floats your boat" kinda gal. I have my limits, of course. Case in point: Tom Cruise & Katie Holmes.

First of all, I gotta wonder how a nice little Catholic girl winds up with a whack job like Tom Cruise. Sure, he's a star. Yeah, he's got more money than he knows what to do with. Whatever. Who cares? He hasn't really been cute since he was dancing in his BVDs in Risky Business. Add to that the fact that he's missing a few french fries out of his Happy Meal. Again, I have to ask...HOW does a nice little Catholic girl wind up with a whack job like that?

By now, everyone knows they plan on "silent childbirth." Only a man would come up with an idea as hair-brained as that. SILENT?? The girl is gonna be pushing something the size of a watermelon out a hole the size of a lemon without any drugs and they think she's gonna be able to remain silent? I don't have any kids myself, but I was present when my godson, Joshua, was born. I think it's safe to say the only way childbirth can be silent is if you're out cold.

And last week I read that not only will the birth be silent, but they won't talk to the baby for a week. Not one word. You spend 9 months growing a human being and then refuse to talk to it for a week?? The only thing nuttier than that is the reasoning behind it. Apparently, they feel babies come into the world with their own ideas and agendas and shouldn't be distracted. HUH?! These people obviously have access to way better drugs than I ever did. Anyone that's spent any time at all near an infant knows that babies have the attention span of a gnat.

And from what I understand, Tom has gone all gestapo on Katie. She has a curfew, isn't allowed to jog anymore, I guess she is only allowed to eat organic food and she's not allowed to wear anything sexy. Apparently, sexy clothes are disrespectful to the baby.

Nuttier than a fruitcake, that's all I can say.