THE RED CARPET

A thought occurred to me while watching the recent Emmy’s. Jimmy Fallon did an outstanding job of coming up with a fresh approach to what has become a tired format, by the way, but that is not what I wanted to discuss here. It is the attention given to the Red Carpet before, during and after the various entertainment industry award shows and the near manic obsession with and analysis of the dresses and gowns worn by the female attendees. More precisely, who it is that is passing judgment on these ladies and either praising or humiliating them before a viewing audience of millions. Half of that audience happens to be men and as a seasoned observer I feel I must speak out on their behalf.

For the purposes of this blog I am making the assumption that when a woman dresses for an evening out with her man she dresses to please HIM. Sure she has colors and styles she likes but she wants him to approve. If it is a casual night out she dresses accordingly as she also would for a romantic, candle lit dinner. Men do the same. I know when I dress for the evening with my lady, if I am met with “You’re wearing that?” I quickly retreat and change clothes.

Which brings me to my point? Why are those critiquing the Red Carpet ladies, for the men of America, either women or those with a decidedly female bent? Why are they telling men what looks good on a woman, especially what looks sexy? I don’t think they have a clue what looks sexy to men. I have heard these women media types say “That’s a very sexy gown” and I had to rewind to make sure we were looking at the same woman. Those one shoulder gowns they seem to love, no way. Doesn’t do it for us. Those outfits that force them to lay on a slant board on the ride to the show, ahhh, no.

To rectify this situation, I have a proposal. For the next big entertainment awards show, say, the Oscars, lets select a media crew to work the Red Carpet that represents the men of America. It would be a cross section of guys representing varying ages and interests. For the inaugural group I suggest we go with a group of 5 guys. They would be stationed at various spots along the Red Carpet to offer their insight. Microphone in hand, they would give the country their opinions of the various ensembles from a man’s perspective.

There are many men worthy of being one of these 5 but, just to start the ball rolling, I will select our first group. To begin, I am going with Joe the Plumber. Fiercely American and obviously not afraid to speak up, he will be perfect for greeting the ladies as they ascend from their limousines. Second, how about George Clooney? No further explanation needed. Half way through their journey along the Red Carpet would be Dale Earnhardt Jr., a popular NASCAR driver that would give us a good southern, red neck perspective. Next would be Kobe Bryant, an admirer of the female form and a fashion plate in his own right. The anchor man is Jimmy Kimmel. A glib, naturally funny and master of the off-the-cuff comment kind of guy, that is needed here. If the women of the Red Carpet care, and I know they do, this group would give them an honest opinion of what men think of their choice of wear for the evening rather than what other women think.

I doubt if you would hear the words “stunning” or “exquisite” from this group. More like “fine” or “awesome”. But whatever they say we would finally hear how MEN feel about the fashion choices of the ladies of the Red Carpet. If you think this is a preposterous idea, consider this. Supposing, when the next Oscars come along, instead of having women critiquing the ladies, we had men critiquing the men. Can you imagine hearing a man telling a nationwide television audience that “He looks so sexy this evening?” I don’t think so.

If the truth be known, give us a lady with slightly askew hair, over-sized mans dress shirt, faded blue jeans and bare feet, and we will go quietly into the night.

ONE OF THOSE DAYS

For years I have spent my weekends on the beach during our summer months. From late June until early September I take my beach chair to one of three or four beaches that I like, find a good spot, kick off my flip flops and soak up the sunshine and salty air. I never take a book. I can read at home. It makes no sense to have before me this wondrous meeting of land and sea and spend the day engrossed in a book.

A cocktail of anti-depressants, muscle relaxers, uppers, downers, ganja or whatever else people take to mellow out, would not have the effect on me that a day at the beach does. For this reason, unless a good friend schedules a wedding or a member of our immediate family has a birthday, I never miss. I wait all winter long for these summer days and there are only a few of them so I feel as though if I miss one it is like a page in my book of life without any words.

It has been years since my kids have gone with me. They used to but with each going their own way and having their own families and interests it is a rare treat when I have their company. Last weekend was just such a treat.

Even though we have been experiencing the coldest summer in southern California that I can remember, we hit a streak of hot weather. Scorned by those who live inland, we love it along the beach. Temperatures of 90 to 100 degrees there mean high 70’s for us. Perfect. Just before leaving for the beach I made a long shot phone call to my 2 youngest daughters. Would they like to join me? To my surprise, both said yes!

Now I was faced with a decision of which of my handful of favorite spots to go to. Each has its own special appeal for me. One has excellent surf. In fact I grew up surfing there. Finding a place to park there on a Sunday is a nightmare and there are no rest rooms. Not the best for my girls. Another spot has rest rooms and snack bars but you would be lucky to find a spot on the sand on a day like this when half of southern California heads for the beach to avoid the heat. I settled on a spot called Thalia Street in Laguna Beach. Laguna Beach is one of those ageless towns that oozes charm and you never tire of visiting. It has beautiful sandy beaches broken up by rocky points and coves.

After parking the car we walked down twisting rocky steps to the beach, staked out our spot and settled in. Three beach chairs and three straw hats in a row facing a sparkling ocean. My daughters broke out sandwiches, soft drinks and snacks that we munched on all afternoon. Through our sun glasses we watched the best a day at the beach has to offer. A parade of people unique to Laguna Beach, kids skim boarding, surfers ripping good sized waves, sail boats and fishing boats cruising by, sea gulls hovering , pelicans diving and Catalina Island visible in the distance. Occasionally a single engine plane struggling to stay aloft while towing an enormous banner advertising rum or beer passed just off shore. Dad was in heaven.

We stayed until the sun set. Moving our towels and chairs back as the tide came in, we were finally backed up against a cliff and forced to leave. It was one of those days that come along every blue moon but, as always, sharing something you have a passion for with someone you love is special.

SAY, WHAT?

I have always made a concerted effort to keep up with the goings on in the world, including fashion trends, entertainment and the arts. The internet and the world of blogging have aided greatly in these efforts to stave off being considered a relic. At times, as difficult as it is, I study why people like what they like, even when I don’t. If something appeals to people there must be a reason why and in my pursuit of being worldly, it behooves me to at least take a cursory look at their viewpoint.

One of the sources I occasionally peruse in my quest is reviews of entertainers. Here are a few I have come across from the printed media and internet blogs.

•Best overall set: Zakk Wylde's Black Label Society, exiled to the dusty Second Stage. The newly sober Wylde displayed no loss of radness, singing like a bear, tearing up a five-minute guitar solo and nailing the doom-laden riffs and bulldozer tempo changes.

•It’s a big leap, but if cracking open a thesaurus and large time investments are your bags, then Aesop Rock fills them to the brim with hyper-literate imagery, layers of spastic, tempo-shifting vocals (think mildly epileptic comic book collector), off-balance beats and scratches, and samples ranging from jazz to Eastern.

•By and large they can’t anymore, and the kind of songwriting mind that tosses off perfect, playful choruses now takes to Dr. Luke’s gum-snapping technopop instead.

•Butler’s lyrics come and go as they please and, like some sort of subterranean, acid trip jazz combo, the song structures burst open and tear off on their own at a moment’s notice. An improvisationally drugged out atmosphere pervades the album, but not in a crutched way, more in the way they play fast and free with form.

Say, what? What in God’s name did they say? I realize my music roots go back to Tony Bennett, Dean Martin and Fats Domino but over the years I have not hit the musical wall. I love the earthiness of country music and the harmonizing of the Beach Boys, Eagles and Simon and Garfunkel. Rod Stewart is one of my favorites as is Elton John. To show you I am not completely living in the oldie-but-goodie world, Kid Rock, Katy Perry and Shakira are among those I enjoy today. Like everyone else, I was saddened by the loss of Michael Jackson, my personal choice as the best total package entertainer of them all. There are surely better singers but no one moves like Michael. At the top of my Bucket List is just once in my life I would like to step on a dance floor and cut loose ala Michael Jackson.

I got a little carried away there but my point is can’t these critics write like they at least studied some English as well as music. If they had, I doubt if there professor would have told them to write their reviews in words that make no sense to any human being not stoned. They must have sat at their computers thinking “How can I put this so no one of sound mind will have any clue as to what I am saying?” Seriously! It’s as if being on the fringes of the entertainment business gives them an artsy license to throw words in a blender and see what pops out.

I’m just sayin’.

WHAT UP WITH RAP

I was driving my grandkids home from an evening at the local fair the other night when the sounds of rap music came from my car radio. Even though I have been near totally deaf since birth, with the help of powerful hearing aids and lip reading I get by. What hearing I do have is best in the very low frequencies such as fog horns or the deep base sounds of rap music. So as the familiar and unmistakable thump, thump rhythm of rap came through the air waves my lightening quick reflexes kicked in and I immediately changed the station. Even though I cannot hear the words because of the aforementioned hearing problem, I have seen enough closed captioned videos on uncensored cable channels to know these lyrics were not fit for pre-teens. Especially the pre-teens of my flesh and blood. We found a station with some good Taylor Swift type music and they knew every single word, which they sang loudly all the way home.

Granted I am coming from a different perspective here but I have a theory as to why songs appeal to people. I like the songs that I do because of the sound and I believe that is true of most people. The lyrics are irrelevant to me. It wasn’t until I owned a TV with closed captioning that I learned the words to my favorite songs from the oldies-but-goodies until now. But I can as surely associate a song with a memory as anyone who knows every word.

In the age old argument as to what is more important, the lyrics or the melody, I would side with the melody. I am sure there as those who cite the lyrics as they relate them to their life experiences. I believe the great song writers know the importance of both as it seems one begets the other.

I can’t ever remember a genre of music that has grown in popularity as fast or far as rap. Is it because of the lyrics or is it the melody? I would argue strongly for the melody. I must admit it is hard to hold still in the presence of the rap beat. If I am in my car I find myself bobbing my head, tapping on the steering wheel and generally, feelin’ it. If I am somewhere the music is being played I can’t help but envision myself as James Brown or Michael Jackson, moving as though the music has taken over my body. This from a guy with about as much soul as a piece of asparagus. But I find myself trying to jingle and jangle along as though I grew up in the hood. I’m not lookin’ too good but I’m feelin’ good.

My point is, is it really necessary to sing about what you want to do to your mother or how you treat your lady and use every four letter word known to man. I think not. I realize there are certain people that relate to this sort of thing and that’s what makes our country great but I contend rap has enough going for it that you could apply the rap beat to the lyrics of Ave Maria and it would be a hit, or Desperado. It’s the sound man, the sound. If they are trying to send a message they could send it with a “hell” or a “damn” here and there like the rest of the music world. Then I could tool down the street with my grandkids and not live in fear of what might spew forth from my radio.

What say you?

DOTTIE

Dottie is a porpoise. Some would refer to her as a dolphin but as I wrote in an earlier blog, a dolphin is a fish while a mammal that resembles Flipper is a porpoise. To anyone who has spent any amount of time on the ocean porpoise are in a league all their own. Often they can be seen from the shore while frolicking in the surf but generally they travel off shore. Sometimes you see stragglers of a few at a time and other times see them as far as you can see in all directions around your boat. If you come across them at night it can be quite startling as if there are torpedoes all around you traced by sprays of phosphorus.

When traveling you first see splashes on the horizon. If you are lucky they are moving in a direction that will cross paths with you. They will detour for a time to keep you company then they will be on their way. If you are very lucky they will be traveling the same direction you are, at about the same speed, and will stay with you for long periods of time. As many times as this has happened to me I always considered myself privileged to witness one of God’s great spectacles starring one of his special creatures.

When I was a kid I used to lay on the bow of the boat, with my head over the side, and stare down into the deep, purple-blue water, for as long as the school would stay with us. Some would ride the waves of our wake, playfully jumping, hanging in the air, and then splashing back into the water. Others would ride the bow waves and those I could almost touch. I felt like I established a bond with some as they would often turn on their side and look up at me. Even when they veered off for a while the crystal clear water allowed me to follow their path until they eventually returned. Occasionally a mother porpoise with a baby hugging its side would gracefully move as one among the school.

It is well known that they possess superior intelligence, have unimaginable navigational skills and human-like instincts. They are constructed as though God said “Let’s see if we can design the perfect ocean borne creature”. They have such speed that I have come upon them in a boat making 30 knots and for a short period of time, they will ride our wake or bow wave with that smirk on their face as if to say “Is that all you’ve got?” Sailors, seamen and fisherman alike consider them lucky and often times schools of albacore and tuna will travel with them.

As I am sure you can tell I have a love affair with porpoise and their kin, orca and whales. The Michael Jackson song in the closing scene of Free Willy gets me every time. For all these reasons I was moved when my daughter Romy sent me the story of Dottie told in the linked video. If you did not see it, please take a moment to watch this heartwarming story.

http://news.yahoo.com/video/world-15749633/doctors-to-dolphin-s-rescue-21249002

MAKENNA

My wife and I recently experienced one of the more memorable days of our lives. It was a birthday party like many we have attended but the presence of a young girl named Makenna made it like none other. Facing a daunting future, friends and family had come to celebrate her 13th birthday with her as well as to acknowledge her courageous battle with leukemia. We had heard her story and could not wait to meet her.

We had gathered on a beautiful, sandy beach at the foot of a bluff that overlooks the Pacific Ocean. Those that had arrived early raked away sea weed from big waves and a high tide the night before so tables and chairs, a barbecue and a dance floor could be set up. Guests busied themselves with filling water balloons, decorating tables and arranging party favors. A limousine had been sent for Makenna and her friends with an early afternoon arrival expected. Soon there was a buzz that she had arrived.

We could see a group of young teens walking down the hill and across the beach toward us. As we had not met her before we were in the dark as to which one she was. After patiently greeting friends and family, some who had come a great distance to be a part of this day, we were introduced to her by her Dad, who we had met earlier. Some people can speak volumes without saying a word. Makenna is one of those. She extended her hand in greeting, looked at us with kind eyes and a warm smile and then gave us a hug.

There were the signs of a brutal, behind-the-scenes struggle with treatment. Her face was pale, framed by a cute, black wig, and she was thin. But her inner strength and beauty overshadowed everything. There was that unmistakable feeling that we were in the presence of someone special.

The afternoon was spent playing volleyball, lounging in beach chairs and swimming. We became friends with many we had just met. We learned there were two young boys present, who were also fighting the fight with leukemia. We met Makenna’s brother Alec, who had been found to be a match for a bone marrow transplant. A humorous young man who, when I asked if there are any side affects said “I will probably grow a third arm”. He has such a positive attitude that I am sure he is a great source of strength for her. Preparations are being made for that procedure to be performed soon.

Everyone enjoyed a barbecue of hot dogs, hamburgers and brisket of beef with baked beans, potato salad, and watermelon while an all girls band with a set of appropriately pink drums entertained. All the girls knew every word to every song and mimicked every move in unison as they danced in the sand. People came out on to their terrace’s of the homes on the bluff above to listen to the music as the sun set.

After birthday cake a country singer named MCCuin was introduced. He told the story of how he had come to know of Makenna, met her and her family and dedicated himself to helping her in any way he could. He then sang a song he had written for her and recorded as a CD. As he sang, Makenna and several of her friends sat on the sand in front of the stage, hugging each other. Just behind her were her Mom and Dad, each leaning on a shoulder for comfort. The rest of us were mesmerized. As everyone began to leave, we said goodbye to Makenna. She was just as warm and sincere as she was upon meeting her that morning. As we walked up the bluff on a crystal clear night, a perfectly round, full moon rose from behind the hills. Full moons bring good luck.

MESSAGE FOR THE NATIONAL ORGANIZATION FOR WOMEN, KNOWN AS NOW

MESSAGE FOR THE NATIONAL ORGANIZATION FOR WOMEN, KNOWN AS “NOW”
With all due respect ladies, there is an ill wind blowing among you. There seems to be a concerted effort by your rank and file members to eliminate the term “Gentleman” from the English language. Your modus operandi seems to be to blur the distinction between men and women to the point where there is no longer a need for the term Gentleman. This bothers me.

I am all for equal pay for equal work, equal scholarships for men and women, fair treatment when being considered for employment and across the board equality. No exceptions and there really is no other side to this argument. It just seems that in the pursuit of this goal there have been certain time honored traditions trampled.

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines Gentleman as “A man whose conduct conforms to a high standard of propriety or correct behavior”. I suppose there can be some wavering between generations about what is a high standard of propriety or correct behavior but since I have the floor I will give you my thoughts, which I believe reflect those of my generation. I believe in treating a lady like a lady. That means opening the door for them, letting ladies go first, not using profane language in their presence, walking on the street side of them and other shows of respect. Doffing ones cap when meeting a lady is nice but seems to have gone by the wayside with the wearing of caps backwards, sideways and half sideways. Calling a woman “Mam” was summarily rejected as offensive by a certain female Senator recently.

It always irks me to sit in a restaurant and watch a hostess showing a couple to their table with the man leading the way and the woman trailing along in his wake. I just want to shout out “You male chauvinist slob!” Then there is the time honored tradition of any true gentleman, you never speak to anyone about what you and your lady do privately. Anyone. How many men have you heard lately boasting of their accomplishments with women or, as the case with some celebrities quoted in tabloids, degrading a woman’s performance in the sack as being sub-par. Like they are some Don Juan. Please. They might as well hang a sign around their neck “Pig With No Class”.

I realize times are a changing but please allow us of my generation to continue to feel as though there are those among you who enjoy and appreciate being treated in the old fashioned way. Regardless of the progress of mankind there are certain traditions I hope remain with us forever. So the next time you and I arrive at a doorway at the same time, allow me to open it for you. It will make me feel good.