Ladies ARE Funny Festival

I'm heading to Austin this weekend for the Ladies Are Funny Festival (LAFF). Do we actually need to name a festival that? (See Tina Fey) Are we trying to convince the world that ladies are indeed funny contrary to popular opinion or the roles they get in male comedies where they play the humorless-grown-up-arms-crossed-straight-man character for a crazy-man-child who just doesn't want to grow up and has all the fun?

Jerry Lewis said women aren't funny. That's ironic because I don't think Jerry Lewis is funny--at all(!) however I wouldn't lump him together with all men. A blanket statement like women aren't funny is silly or just plain dumb. Jerry Lewis isn't funny or at least REALLY not funny to me and that's my point. Someone thinks he's funny. French people love him but I'm getting off the track.

The group I'm performing with this weekend is the improv group "Dishwater Blondes". We have a blast. We're 6 women and we'll play men, children, whatever. It's not all gender defined so it keeps the audience on their toes so to speak. Maybe neither gender is funny when we are just being our gender and playing it too safe. Maybe women aren't funny when they lose their sense of humor because they're exhausted from childcare and balancing work and home life and all that. Anyone loses their sense of humor if they're not having enough Vitamin W as my sister says (vitamin WACKY!) I know my dad lacked a sense of humor sometimes because when I was little I'd do things like change the color on the TV to make people's faces either green or orange. My dad said, "I'm gonna find out which one of you kids is COLOR BLIND!" Hey easy does it here. Maybe one of your kids is just a little WEIRD and I'm not naming names but she's your middle child? Left handed? Plays violin? Blind as a bat?

I don't have any real point here. I think both men and women can be hilarious or not into laughter of any kind. I'll usually throw out a few lines or say something using a different character voice at some point when I'm meeting someone new because that's how exist in the world. I can't help it. I have to make light of things or I shall perish! Perish I tell you!!! Anyway if someone just isn't listening or isn't amused and goes right on with his or her topic I just let it slide. Why force it if someone doesn't want the wacky? It's all good. Humor is very personal. I'm always laughing in the movies when no one else is. I'm not worried...as long as I'm laughing.

Call me "Tracks"

OK so I did it. I got braces as an ADULT. AAAAHHHHH! HEEELLLPPPP!!!! GRROOOOOSSSSS!!! Hey, I know I'm not the first oldie to do this but this is my second go around with these damn things. I had them 30 years ago and here we go again. Are braces like a roof that lasts 30 years and then you need to redo it? I should have asked how many more times I'll need braces before I kick the bucket. Do I swing by in my 70's for another spasm of being hit with an ugly stick? It's bad ok. B-A-D

This morning, however, before looking in the mirror of course, I had some levity about it all. I thought everyone can call me "Tracks" for 18 months. Or I could just say I did it for the attention. Oh I get attention alright for wearing these babies. Oh yeah. These workmen came yesterday and they were very nice but you could TELL(!) they wanted to yell, "What the hell did you do to your teeth!? NOOOOO!! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" and then they ran from the door. I was walking my dog and said hello to a woman pushing a stroller and when she saw my teeth blazing at her in the sunlight she shrieked and tore off in the opposite direction. Well not really but she didn't say hello back so I immediately jumped to conclusions and thought, "These BRACES ARE RUINING MY LIFE!!!"

It reminds me of this lady who got a face lift and it was so painful and horrible she wished she had known how bad it was going to be. I just couldn't stop crying yesterday but then again it was also Monday. The thing is I needed to get these dumb things for a jaw issue. It's not cosmetic because I don't care. I thought my teeth looked good before. I just don't want to look a way that will scare people like that villain from the James Bond movies with metal teeth. I feel like his stand-in.

I'll just tell my violin students I wanted to feel 13 again. I'll tell my comedy friends that I did it for a role. It actually fits with the role I'm supposed to play in "Misfit", the musical I wrote that we're doing at the Fringe this Aug. Anyway I'm sure this will all pass...in 18 months that is. Good times...It's good to laugh. Oh and I didn't focus on all the things I can't eat for a year and a half. I'll basically be dining on soup and gruel. Maybe it'll be a sort of diet that's enforced like getting your jaw wired shut or lips stapled together.


This blog has turned out to be about a lot more than music. Here's a gig memory however that I wanted to share. I don't need to regale you with stories of my braces anymore or at least for today. I used to play for this wedding string quartet. There was one rule the other violinist told me if I wanted to keep working with this group: If there's a reception only eat if Samantha eats. (Samantha had hired me.) I fell out of favor with that group for another reason. I tried to get a sub 2 weeks before a gig and this was just too unprofessional for Samantha. I was like, "What? You have 2 WEEKS and you can't find another violinist?!" That's right I don't know about the real music world and what's appropriate after working in New York and LA. PULEASE!! The fact that she had such a short list of violinists she could call should have told me something right there.

Airport 2010

I was standing in line at airport security when these two ladies behind me started talking about if their plane went down. I wanted to turn around and say, "Are you kiddin' me with this shit?" COME ON! I was doing pretty well until they started in with, "Well if the lord has it in his plans to take me, I'm ready." I wanted to say, "You're flying to Fresno! OK! No one especially god gives a crap about your travel plans." This lady just kept going on. Whatever gives you comfort I guess. Sometimes I believe in guardian angels but I don't think they could do a whole lot with a plane careening towards the ground. One of my aunts once said, "God doesn't care about helping you choose porch furniture." Well I'm not making a religious point of any kind. My point is it's amazing what bad timing people can have in choosing their conversation topics. It was right up there with getting my mammogram and hearing "Dust in the Wind" playing in the background.

Here's another recent episode. I was walking my dog and ran into this lady who lives in the neighborhood. My dog went up to her and really charmed her. The lady was like, "I'm gonna remember you. You're a sweetie." It was all just a nice little encounter and no big deal. Then the lady asked, "How old is your dog?" I said, "12". She replied, "Oh. Is she in good health?" I'm like, "Yeah." She then said, "Oh good. Because you know things can change so quickly at that age. Our dog was fine one day and the next day he was dead." I was like gulp and began lurching away from this lady who didn't even mean any harm. Still I was thinking, "Thanks for the unwanted information! And a cheery afternoon to you too." How about enjoy the time you have with your pet and leave it at that. (Oh dear. I used the word 'pet'. This is Boulder where you don't own a pet, you are it's GUARDIAN.) Anyway as we walked away she said, "I'll pray for her!" I should have shouted back, "She's not DEAD YET!!!" UGH!!! I try to stay open but this is the same lady who runs around the neighborhood wearing jeans. Maybe that's not that weird. Clint Eastwood did it in "Every Which Way But Loose" or one of his other 70's movies.

Sometimes people's blind spots are funny. I have them for sure. I once called my sister and she said, " Oh hi! Yeah we're watching ER right now." I didn't pick up on the hint at all. I was like, "Oh. So anyway the reason I called..." A friend of mine just had a baby and she said her mother had come to help out. When she went into labor and she told her mom they needed to go to the hospital her mother said, "But I'm not ready yet." My friend said, "Mom I don't want to have my baby in a cab. We have to go NOW!" Her mom then said, "How can you do this to me?!" I loved that one.

Britt, It's your inner Stuart Smalley AGAIN(!)wondering what in the doodle is going on with you? You started your blog and were writing away albeit on and off for a few months and then you're like a cat who is easily distracted, who just looks away from your goal and doesn't do a dern thing more. Why Britt? WHY?! Yes it can feel like a pressure cooker to have to come up with new things to write about and yes it can feel like a vice squeezing your head having 17 people(!) following your blog. No wonder you freaked out. It's too much and with your life history of storming the castle wall of classical music and starting your senior recital on the wrong string (we've all heard that story before! SIGH!) and playing so badly that one particular audition that you actually stopped playing and asked, "Have you heard enough?" Well Britt, maybe you've HAD enough and that's ok.

My point is why the high standard? Why try to rub elbows with the seraphim and the other angels and other-worldliness of it all? This ain't Juilliard honey chile. You won't be docked a point for each mistake you make in your writing as you were in your ear training class which was taught by that very odd woman who was kind of drill sergeant slash meanie pants lady. Britt, why would you be docked any points at all for sharing? You're just plain sharin' your stories chickee dee so chill. You haven't run out of ideas yet and with your Chatty Cathy ways I doubt you ever will.

So the gym thing where you were doing that challenge with yourself (story of your life!) to use up your 30 punches in two months didn't pan out. Well you did your best. Well no you actually didn't do your best but you were in Kansas and there was a good show on TV and whatever else happened to stop you from being a success story on that particular challenge and that's ok. You don't have to climb every mountain despite what Julie Andrews says or Maria Von Trapp or whoever the heck she was in that movie. You're not a grinder, Britt. You're fanciful and that's nice. You're not a treadmill junkie or an iron pumping goonie bird.

You did get your musical "Misfit" (the story of your life!) into the Boulder Fringe Festival and that's a nice goal to have achieved but don't stress. It's all just art. It ain't brain surgery as they say and that's good. What if it all fails miserably and people don't laugh and the dancing steps are off and the cast forgets all their lines and the props fall over and you can hear crickets in the audience instead of chuckles? So WHAT! Right? Nothing ventured nothing gained. If ya don't go, ya won't know. And you've got nothing to lose and I mean NOTHING. You kept your standards low which seems to be the key that unlocks your creativity or you just get started, right? You kinda sneak up on yourself and low and behold you've written a musical and the script and the music and all the rest so don't stress or go into a shame spiral trying to control everything! You can't sistah. That ain't the way the cookie crumbles.

So we've covered your big stressers and that's nice. It's good to step back and say "Hey, this is my life!" Hey Britt this IS your life so just have fun with it. No one can live it but you so have some mallowmars and let the whole gym failure thing go and the other ways you're disappointed like having to get braces (yes braces!) for the SECOND(!) time as an ADULT(!!!) which is not going to be a picnic. You've never been a vain glamour gal, however, so what are some railroad tracks on your teeth gonna do? You might feel like you're 13 again and relive all those glorious years of Junior High. See? There's a bright side to every penny!

"From the String"

I had lunch with my darling friend Sara the other day and she was talking about her stint in a professional orchestra. This was the same job that worked her so hard she'd look down at her clothes to see if they were black because then she'd know she was about to play a concert. Anywhatchamajiggy...thanks for sharing your tale from the trenches, Sara.

We were playing a Mozart Divertimento without conductor (in a full-time, professional orchestra). As such, everyone had equal rights to make comments, etc. One movement started with the 1st violins playing slow spiccato stuff and it was a big mess. In our quest to actually play together (what a concept!), one of the cellists suggested that we should make sure to start it from the string, to which the concertmaster replied, “No, if we do that it will never be together. At least if we start up here (holding his bow several inches above the string) and drop, we’ll have a chance of being together.” I’m quoting verbatim… can’t make this stuff up!

I love that story. Sometimes you wonder what draws someone to music when it's not shall we say a natural aptitude. I think of little episodes all the time that have happened in this wonderful musical odyssey which is my life. I was playing a recital at a university and there was a poster telling people about the recital. Someone scribbled on the poster, "What's the difference between a violin and a viola? A violin burns faster." How COULD THEY?! How could someone hurt me so much after I practiced for months preparing that recital! MONTHS! And here it was now reduced to a joke for someone. They were trying to make me a LAUGHING STOCK! I bet they didn't even COME to the recital. I bet they had never even HEARD the Cesar Franck Sonata! EVER! Or any major work from the violin literature! It's astonishing! Who looks foolish now Mr. Scribbles-On-Posters-Which-Don't-Even-BELONG-To-You?! I bet you don't even REMEMBER this episode from your salad days! I bet it was one of many little shenanigans and pranks and Tom Foolery you pulled during your college years. Ho Ho ho. What a shame, I say. What a waste of time! Who's laughing now? (Well, yeah. Who IS laughing now?) Well Mr. Funnybone maybe you've awakened since then to a higher purpose than sabotaging innocent violin recitals!!!!

OK so I'm kidding about all that but it's fun to rant. I had something else to say. Oh. There's this ad for Girls Inc. which is about empowering young girls and giving them confidence to follow their dreams. Great except that the ad shows all these little girls throwing paper airplanes off a building. What's that about? "We're girls and we don't mind LITTERING!"? I just thought it seemed a little off for the era we're in now where the whole planet can feel like a trash heap. I'm all for girl's feeling empowered and their rights and all but littering? Lame. Well lemme know what you think. Send me you stories. Love ya lots...

Olympaholic and proud of it!

Greetings Earthlings! I'm still here and alive and kickin'. I just am a creature of habit and got in the habit of not writing in my blog this last month. Was it that I didn't have anything to say? That never stopped me before! HA! Why did I quit stand-up when I've clearly got the funny bone?! Oh me oh my oh on the bayou. So I also didn't write because of the Olympics. I blame those beautiful athletes! Damn them! Any spare moment I had I watched those lugers, and skiers, and snowboarders and ice skaters but NOT ice dancers (no thanks I'll pass) anyway I just couldn't stop watching it. I had that VCR hummin' for two weeks! YES VCR!!!! This DVR thing is never going to catch on, ok? I actually bought a turntable in the 80's because I thought cd's would never make it. You also can only reach me by rotary phone or telegram if you must. Oh! I'm having such fun with this. I come from technologically-challenged parents (or technologically-uninterested parents) but I must revise the stories about them because they have an answering machine now. They HAVE cel phones! They have a COMPUTER!!! These were parents who up until just recently could pass for Amish. But where am going with this on this Friday morning?

I'm celebrating because I've just added up all the piddly receipts of my so-called life for my tax appointment this afternoon. It's all very sweet. The place where I've gone for many years now to get my taxes done feels really nice. It's like a Denver classic or something. The woman who started the business passed away this last year and I was sad to hear it. I would be in with Kathy who was working on my taxes and Jeannie would come in and say, "Do you have a Cincinnati form?" On the walls were pictures of musicians who all have had nightmare gigs from hell but were still smilin' through and appreciated getting their taxes done at Jeannie's. There are also bumper stickers which say "Avaholic" and "Broncoholic". I love it!

So I was in Kansas and that's about all I have to say about that. The university where the group I was with was performing had signs with a gun and slash through it and a cigarette and a slash through by every entrance. Both can kill you to be sure but are there that many guns around that they have say politely, "Please leave your rifle in the car, Johnny, when you come into class."? Yikes. I saw that "no guns allowed" sign a lot of places.

It reminded me of when I was driving to Colorado from LA,I spent the night in this remote town in Utah. First of all the lady at the hotel stared at me when I came in because she was like, "Where's you're husband?" What she actually said was, "We don't get a lot of ladies travelin' alone out here." OK. I'll make a note of that. CREEPY. So the next morning as I was preparing to leave and was out by my car this guy comes over and says, "Where ya headed?" I said, "Colorado." (You know. Keep it a little vague because who the heck IS this guy?) He then says, "I never head out on these remote roads without a gun." I wondered, "For what? In case you see an endangered species?" He's basically telling me I need a gun to protect myself from someone like HIM! Well I headed out and the rest as they say is history.

I had some good steak in KS which is no surprise. Next to every highway are the sweet little cows grazing innocently wondering, "What happened to my aunt, my uncle, my MOM? (cow voice) "One day I was just eating some grass and then when I turned around they were gone and you know what THAT means! Rancher Dave has me eating grass all day long but as soon I get big enough and start really learning I get put on a truck and you know what THAT means! I might be ground up into a million pieces for a hamburger or they might make me into a steak appetizer that they wrap around asparagus with some sort of savory sauce or even beef jerky. But if you enjoyed me as a hamburger or filet mignon I guess it was all worth it!"

OK maybe you had to be there but we had some good laughs on that. No I'm not a vegetarian. Even after a story like that. There was a woman a few years ago who changed her name legally to GoVeg.com. I wondered how she's doing? Anyway thanks for reading. Stay cute'n crazy!

LIZA in VEGAS!

The other night I was channel surfing and there was Liza Minnelli doing a Vegas show singing her heart out. The last I had really heard about her was when I was playing violin in the pit of "Victor Victoria" and Liza took over for Julie Andrews after she left the show. (Liza was then followed by Rachel Welch...um wait. Rachel was going to try to pass for a MAN? With HER bazongas? Sheesh. P.S. The show closed two weeks later but that's another story).

When Liza was singing in "Victor/Victoria" you could hear the vocal challenge of it in her voice. One night her voice just quit. It was gone and she couldn't sing another note. There's a scene where the Julie Andrews character (then Liza) would lie on the stage at the end of one scene. Liza was shaking. There is back story here, however, on the many things she's put her body through over the years (see Studio 54) so that would explain the shaking I guess. Anyway flash forward I was glad to see her in her element givin' 'em all she's got in Vegas! She's back, world! LOOK OUT! The audience was eating it up. She had male dancers backing her up, costume changes (of course!) and a great band. It reminded me of the words that are so true. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Judy Garland seemed like she was most at home on stage. The audience, her public, was her true family and gave her the greatest sense of well-being. I have her two record famous Carnegie Hall concert which went down in history. I don't think there was a gay man in NY who wasn't there or who didn't wish he could have been there. Listening to it I can understand. That lady had been through a lot. She understood life's pain.

Liza kind of followed right in step with what her mother did and how she lived. Judy Garland never had a chance in the substance department. As a little girl I was so upset hearing how the studio would have her taking uppers in the morning so she'd be up and ready to film and then downers at night to sleep from such a young age. How would she ever know anything else? How would Liza ever know any other way to live? Her mother was her role model. She has really turned it around though and had tremendous stamina in her Vegas show all from natural resources if that makes sense rather than chemical. Anyway! Just call me lady from the sidelines givin' my 2 cents!

I just love seeing people who crave the stage. There was one TV show from the 60's I saw with Judy Garland and two other personalities and they had been doing a trio on stage. As they took their bows each one kept running back onstage to take another bow. It started to be hilarious because this was where they wanted to be. None of them wanted to give up the stage and the warmth from the audience and the glitz and the glamor of it all. As soon as they'd leave the stage it would be back to humdrum life again. Who wants that?!

Well I don't know where I'm going with all of this. I have a love/hate thing with showbiz where I love the stage and seeing people loving being on stage and all the shtick that Liza did in her show so well. The hate part is what a tough and fickle biz it is. It's like you have to keep thinking of ways to capture the easily distracted public's attention. (see Madonna) There was a poignant moment when Lucille Ball was introducing herself year's later after she had retired from television and she said, "I'm Lucille Ball. I used to be in television." Like we'd ever forget her! She was a legend without peer and gave the world so much enjoyment and laughter from her shows. I guess if the blazing lights aren't on you for a while you think, "They've forgotten me." I love it when one of my sister's says about the stage, "Every time I think I'm out, it PULLS me back again!"

My mom used to introduce me to an empty kitchen as she spoke into the end of a jump rope. I would wait expectantly off stage while she did her introduction (which was about ME!) and I'd come out and perform on my broken guitar with no back on it. Where does that impulse come from? That URGE to be on stage? I don't know. I have a basement full of wigs, costumes, funny glasses and I don't understand any of it except I'm more at home in a thrift shop than in a department store. I'd spend my last farthing on a funny wig or terrible pantsuit before buying a new coat. It gives me something! I get a lot of use out of those costumes. When I was putting together my one-woman show I didn't even need to buy anything. It was all downstairs WAITING to be put to use!

This is probably something for another day but thinking about showbiz and how artificial it can be I have been fascinated by the phenomenon of Lady Gaga. She is so manufactured and artificial that she can weather the spotlight even more easily than someone standing next to her who is put together and being glam but still being something resembling themselves. Lady Gaga is a total creation and you can't compete with that in being eye catching...the REALLY blond hair and the ultra-glam costumes, etc. I saw her standing near Britney Spears and I thought Britney hasn't gone far enough by a LONG SHOT to compete with this Lady Gaga media creation. Do you know what I mean? It's like what if you gave the public exactly what they want (assuming they have a short attention span and we may assume this, right? Right? With me? Cool?) So my point was if you gave the public exactly what they want you'd be Lady Gaga so I say hat's off and hooray for how she's done it. She seems to be having a lot of fun keeping herself in the public eye and wearing some fabulous fashions in the process. Oh and she sings too!

INNOCENCE OF YOUTH

I want to tell you a little story...there once was a little girl in 1st grade who tried to do everything right. Her teacher would ask the class every morning, "Who brushed their teeth?" The girl raised her hand. "Who went to bed at 8 o'clock?" The girl raised her hand. Then one night it was 8:20(!) and the little girl had STILL not gone to bed. She cried as she sat on her bed. Her dad looked at her puzzled and asked, "Why are you crying? What's wrong?" The little girl said, "Mrs. Neville asks us every morning if we went to bed at 8 o'clock and it's 8:20!" The girl's father had nothing to add to that.

Do you see the level of obedience and sense of order in that 1st grader? Yikes! And you guessed it. That little girl....(drumroll)... was ME! What a little rule follower. What a nerd. That's not the end of it. The teacher,Mrs. Neville, told our class we could never say the words 'shut up'. Fine. One day, though, Mrs. Neville blew her stack and yelled at our class, "SHUT UP!!!!" Understandable. Not to Little Miss Rule Follower.com, however. I went up to Mrs. Neville after school and started to cry (crying AGAIN?!)asking her why she told us to shut up when she said never to say those words. (Can you believe this kid? God. Get a LIFE!) Anyway back to the story, Mrs. Neville took me on her lap and said very deftly, "I didn't tell you to shut up. I told you that you don't know HOW to shut up." That's kind of like the moment when the Grinch says to Cindy Lu Hoo that he's taking the Christmas tree to fix the one light which won't light. Well her explanation worked for me. My nicely ordered world was restored.

Why am I writing all this? Maybe it was lucky to be such an innocent 1st grader. Maybe there's a comfort in such an ordered life and the innocence in thinking people will always mean what they say. I obviously had no problem stepping right in line with authority. Flash forward to 6th grade when I did a really dumb thing after school with a pack of bad girls who weren't usually that bad. Anyway we egged the gym teacher's car after school. I don't even remember what we were mad about. I think we just plain didn't like her. Well it was really dumb and terrible and all that. The point is I went home and told my mom about it. She was shocked and disappointed in me of course but this wasn't my usual thing so she didn't freak. Plus I had just told her about it so when the phone rang and it was the principal saying I had egged the gym teacher's car with these other girls my mom said, "I know." The principal said, "You DO?!" "Yeah," my mom replied. "Britt told me." That was nice that the shock value the principal was counting on just wasn't there. I had been rotten but at least I was honest about it.

I guess we all have to make our peace with authority. It never occurred to me that I didn't have to run all 8 laps in 7th grade gym class, that maybe I could have walked a few of them. It was like, show me the task and I'll do it! Maybe I'm the one who should be going to boot camp. NO!!!!! Snap out of it! Go to the movies! Have some candy! Be rotten! Whatever.

My reverence for authority has definitely calmed down,however. The authority of a conductor of an orchestra you don't respect, for instance. There was one conductor who shouted during rehearsal, "NO PHOTOGRAPHS!!!" I guess there was someone from the local paper there. The conductor proceeded to pose dramatically during the rehearsal like he was Herbert effin' von Karajan. This same conductor always told us we weren't as good as other orchestras he'd worked with. Charming! Just the way to get us motivated...to KILL YOU, IDIOT CONDUCTOR!!! The more worked up someone like that gets, the more low energy I get.

I can't fake it when I don't like someone. It shows in my eyes. I got these terrible headshots taken by this photographer with REALLY LIMITED social skills and he looked at my clothes that I was going to wear for the photo shoot and he asked, "Is this all you have?" I proceeded to glare at him through a smile, which is tricky, for the whole session. What a waste of time. Hated it. Why was I getting these photos taken by this guy? Well, thanks for asking. I had been seeing a career coach who had recommended him.

This same career coach was the one who said I had to change the way I spoke. I could no longer say, "I think" or "I feel". I had to now say, "I NOTICE the thought" or "I NOTICE the feeling". This was going to be a hard little spell for me with this career coach. It wasn't the right fit shall we say. In one session I talked about something in the past and he stopped me and said, "Look behind you." I turned around and stared at the wall and then looked back. He asked, "What do you see?" I replied, "Nothing." "EXACTLY!" he said. I have a pretty high bullshit meter and this was one of those moments when I thought, "Really? Does this song and dance work for your other clients?" Hated it. Hope you enjoyed yourself though. I wonder if he's still transforming lives in NY. He certainly provided me with some lovely comedy and you know what?! I had grown up! I was no longer the obedient little 1st grader who couldn't discern between which rules I needed to follow and which rules were, pardon my French, pure bullshit.

DARN THAT PLASTIC SURGERY :(

After yesterday's post talking about Dyan Cannon and her plastic surgery I felt bad that I said she was dressing like a teenager in her 60's. God bless ya whatever you want to do I say. I guess I'm writing again because if you consider plastic surgery it's one of these modern everyday evils that women face or especially Hollywood celebs. I just think it's a shame. I understand why women(and men) get plastic surgery to stay young looking and viable to keep working in the very fickle entertainment industry but can we just stop for a minute and say it's sad? I miss Carol Burnett, Mary Tyler Moore, Holly Hunter, Meg Ryan, Jessica Lange, etc. etc. etc! They get DONE and they disappear forever! OK So I'm being a drama queen again. They are all pressured to get plastic surgery and I get it. Really. It IS scary though because in an eerie way they still look their age just more like a taut mask or clown version of who they were. Their expression for utter terror and sheer delight look kind of the same. WEIRD! Perhaps I exaggerate but I'm trying to make a point!

True not everyone can be Meryl Streep as she glides through life receiving countless Oscars and nominations and great roles and she hasn't had anything done. She becomes the exception and certainly not the rule in the world of cosmetic surgery. We're all like lemmings to the sea getting used to things being a certain way and we just accept it. Look at the Aspen magazines with the cavalcade of plastic surgery believers. All these women look at each other and have to follow suit. How dare you look your age? Your husband will LEAVE you! Well he might leave you anyway. I don't have any answers. I just write this stuff.

I just miss seeing people as they could be if they just left themselves alone. I'm not knocking Hollywood but I'm kind of knocking the part of Hollywood that says you're only interesting if you're young or young-looking or skinny as a rail or whatever! Oh no. Now I'm crying! (kidding) It's like you need to have a deep dissatisfaction with yourself or you ain't in the game, sistah. (I've noticed I've put 'sistah' in about every one of my blog entries. Thanks for hangin' in there with me:) So that's my 2 cents for today. Hope you have a good one! Catch ya on the flip side...Peace. Out.

BOOT CAMP

You know, I know NOBODY wants to hear about anybody else's fat ass but their own. That said I finally took myself over to my neighborhood rec center to pump some iron and to kick some ass...my ass. Call it a New Year's resolution or trying to recapture how disciplined I once was when I lived in LA and was tryin' to keep up with the young folk. Not that I'm old folk but I'm off-the-radar folk now so it's hard to motivate shall we say. (But when I was ON the radar did I even know it?! What IS the radar?)

I realized how bad I've been when I couldn't even find the card to get me in the rec center. They looked up my account and said, "It's expired." It's kind of like saying, "YOU'VE expired. You're a melon and honey, you've gone bad." "Crap," I thought. "This is JUST what I need." The lady then said, however, "You have a punch card that has 30 punches left on it." This meant that I had gone to the gym 10 times in 2 YEARS!!! OK? YEARS!!!! Ugh...
She then went on to say, "I can credit those toward a new card or you can use them up in 2 months." I thought for a moment and was like, "Sistah, it's on." In other words I have to use that rec center 30 times before the end of March when I couldn't seem to use it 10 times, that's not even once a month, in 2 solid years.

I love the denial about myself like I'm actually going to do this but I'm doing it! It's happening! I'm telling you! I've CHANGED!! I've been to the gym TWICE already! It's like one of those commercials, "I lost 3 pounds in 3 years and I KEPT it off!" "I'm going to have the body I've always dreamed of!" This woman advertised a diet once that just involved breathing. Did anyone else see this? She almost had me convinced. There was a talk that was given to these ladies about fraudulent claims and products and one example was these vacuum pants which you hooked to a vacuum cleaner and they supposedly sucked the fat right out of your body! After the presenter had explained that these magic sucking pants didn't work and that people shouldn't be fooled, a woman asked for the company's phone number I guess so she could order a pair. Dearie me!

I can't point fingers or say anything though because I've ordered aerobic eye training glasses which supposedly would improve my eye sight. (Doesn't 'aerobic' mean heart? Never mind!) The glasses were plastic with tiny pin holes all over the lenses so you looked through a kind of honey comb effect. The instructions actually said to not drive a car while wearing them. Good to know. Flash forward. Next thing I know they're featured on a "Shame On You" report on TV. My sister looked on the bright and said I now had a nice bee costume for Halloween. That girl is sassy.

On the subject of denial or blind spots, I'm one of those people who will take a pair of jeans off the rack to try on and I can't even get my leg in them. This is like a major disconnect with what I actually look like. Plus I find this subject so boring and here I go prattling on about gym this and jeans that and weight gain and being called ma'am. That's a real road sign of life when you just ARE ma'am now. You've got the look, the dead eyes, the sagging breasts, the washed-up demeanor. I'm kidding. Really! It's just amusing thank god because I don't live in LA anymore. I'd much rather be an eccentric older woman in NY wearing funny glasses and going to classical music concerts than an LA plastic surgery creation who still dresses like a teenager in her 60's. (see Dyan Cannon)

So where was I? Oh yes. I can put myself through a regimen of scales, etudes, and concertos every day for years so a gym schedule is a picnic, darling. I'm wary though of putting myself through the wringer so to speak. I mean those gym machines are so treacherous and the people grunting and groaning and sweating, uh! What are we doing?! I have this friend who is actually going to boot camp. She's joining the military. She's married, has two kids, and is doing this so she can have a job playing in an orchestra. Wait a minute. To get that job in an orchestra you've already PUT yourself through boot camp just learning how to play the violin well enough to GET the job and now you're going to have to fling your body over one of those big walls with a rope and then run through tires and then run 10 miles in horrible boots? Am I missing something? Don't get me wrong I'm glad she got the job and I'm all for this "be all you can be" thing but still! It's like if you work it right you can make your whole life like boot camp.

You don't have to be in the army to do boot camp or "boot camp" (but the fake one is still grueling I've heard). A musician I know hurt her shoulder really badly doing fake boot camp and found it painful to play. Why do it? You can feel pain just playing your instrument without the gravy of really punishing yourself.

I wonder if someone doesn't seek out a boot camp or marathon, decathalon, triathalon goal when they somehow have missed out on this level of intensity in their profession or their lives. Then again some people just like to run around a lot and that's nice. My point is though and there is a point and here it comes! If you've done classical music or if you've gone to Juilliard or any music school you've BEEN to boot camp. The kind of boot camp where they REALLY f*** with your mind! If you've achieved the level of excellence it takes to get a job in music or be a soloist or get a job in an orchestra you've already got 'em beat in the boot camp department. You deserve a break today at McDonald's. Get a McRib!

SUBSTITUTE TEACHER FROM HELL!!!

I think the 1st prize for the most nightmarish gig from hell would have to go to substitute teachers. That has to be the most hopeless and thankless job around. When I was in grade school we had this lady sub one day and she introduced herself as follows: "I'm Mrs. Gross and by now you know that sometimes I can be." Poor woman. Poor fool. She was done for. We proceeded to make her life a living hell. Perfectly nice kids transformed into monsters who can't listen and feel no sense of remorse because our REAL teacher was gone for the day. YIPPEE! Another sub we had introduced herself as "Mrs. Dove...just like the bird." Note to substitute teachers: Keep your introduction free of interpretations about your name! It makes you look like, how shall we say, a gooney bird!

I subbed at a school in NY which was basically full of rich kids whose parents were in Europe. As a result these were ornery rotten spoiled kids who felt neglected by their parents but of course I'm guessing. I'm just one simple soul on planet Earth. What do I really know of people's lives? But I digress. As I entered the school I heard teachers literally screaming to get the attention of their classes. I ascended in the elevator to my particular level of hell. I was teaching a class of about 20 beginning violin students who were in the process of having sword fights with their bows as I entered the room. I should have turned on my heel and gotten the hell outta there. I proceeded to try to get something accomplished and establish order. It was a total disaster. It reminded me of how in 3rd grade we had this pretty young teaching assistant and she started to cry when we wouldn't be quiet. Her name was Miss Burnheart and we of course called her Miss Heartburn. Kids have that subtle way with humor. Anyway like Miss Heartburn I had zero power and no respect from these rotten spoiled kids. Maybe starting to cry and assuming the fetal position would have gotten a reaction.

Suddenly the door opened and silence fell on the room. My leaden eyes dragged themselves wearily over to the door and there stood the principal in all her glory...my knight in shining armor here to save the day. It was so humiliating to need help controlling these kids. I think I just sighed. Now remembering it I can laugh which is good. Someone who resembles my mom once told me about this group of women laughing and one who was not laughing and was totally unsmiling said, "It's good to laugh." I don't know why I had to add that but I did so that's just how it goes with my blog. Anyhoo back to the principal. She stared at the frightened class and said, "This is NOT how we treat a guest in our school. (Isn't it?!) I am very disappointed in what I am seeing!" I just kind of blinked at her and she stayed for a little while to establish order and then the ordeal was over. The pack of little violin monsters put their swords away and galumphed on to their next victim.

What a double standard going on in that school. 'This is not how we treat a guest at our school?' Well then what was all the shouting about when I entered the building and the teachers shrieking for order in their classrooms? They're rehearsing the school play, "Deathtrap"? Clearly this principal was the only authority figure these kids recognized and I wonder how she even managed that. Shock treatments? Threatening to call Tommy's parents in Zurich to tell them how horrible he's being? Oh well. As they say, it ain't my problem.

I was a really dutiful good kid so I always looked with shock when I'd see a bad ass. When I was in 7th grade there was this girl who'd come in to orchestra, throw her violin case across the room and leave. She had stickers on her violin which basically says, "I don't give a shit." She was what I call a violin owner rather than a violinist. She'd say to this one guy, "Chad. Suck a fart outta my butt." and storm out of the room. I was STUNNED. What a bad bad girl! Wow. That's a bad ass. That's what it looks like, folks. Not your typical orchestra nerd. I admired her confidence. She thought she was the bomb and we believed it too. I guess there's always that confident girl in school and it's like, "How does she DO it?!" She doesn't even have to be pretty or even good at violin(!) which she WASN'T(!!)but her confidence makes everyone skulk in the corner when she enters the room and just kind of stare in awe at her raw power.

When I did my one woman show, "So Many Ladies" one of my favorite characters was a burned-out substitute teacher. Even her ugly brown outfit said it all. This lady was damaged goods. She was like, "I've got a wicked hangover so don't TEST it!"..."This class is about to board a rocket ship for planet POP QUIZ!"..."A. I teach 'cause I wanna give back. Secondly, they don't pay me enough to learn this shit." It felt so good to be that damaged and just stare without smiling into a laughing audience who had become my class. The more I didn't smile, the more they laughed which says it all. It was all so delicious. If you're curious the highlight video is on YouTube with all the other zany characters. Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AQTlOfbuMgI

DUST IN THE WIND

So I guess it would be a nightmare gig to have to give mammograms for 20 years but that's no excuse for the comments the technician made to me at my recent mammogram. Picture this and you don't have to be a lady to do it...your boob is in a vice and being x-rayed and the lady goes, "So do you have breast cancer in your family?" Let me preface this by saying I was called back in for another look as they say but it's often because the digital photography plays tricks on the eyes or something so I wasn't even going there yet to the "C" word if you know what I mean. Well this lady sent me there on the express train! The next thing she talked about was how she had gotten her own photos back from her mammogram and they were very worried in the lab about things they saw on them and she just said, "Well I guess after 20 years of doing mammography it was just my turn!" WHAT? Where did they get this lady?! Besides this was about ME not about HER! For ONCE! This was MY boob in question. For ONCE! I want to just focus on ME. As Nancy Reagen said, "It's MY turn!" It's like lady, if we're at a cocktail party you can talk about yourself and your boobs and your mammogram career and any other darn thing all you want but in here when it's NOT about you so BUTTON IT! Tell me about your cat but leave your horror stories at home. My boobs have their own story to tell and they're gonna tell it sistah in their own words! The thing is I know she meant well. She was telling me her story because it turned out well and she didn't have cancer. I understand that. STILL! Her impulse on what to say was, how shall we say, stinking. It's like that sketch where the woman sees someone who's disabled and tries to make small talk saying in a sing-songy voice, "So how'd you get in the wheel chair?"

Long story long I tried to remain calm and went back to sit in the waiting area waiting for the results. My tactful technician came out a little while later and said, "The radiologist looked at the photos and said, 'There's nothing more I need to see'" What does THAT mean?! His worst fears are confirmed?!!! Then she went on to say, "Everything's fine! We'll see you next year!" I was like thank god and let me get the hell out of here! As I was getting ready to leave the song "Dust in the Wind" was playing in the waiting area. Nice touch. How great for ladies waiting for their mammograms which might tell them they have cancer to listen to this downer of a song saying "All we are is dust in the wind". If you've forgotten how the whole song goes I've printed it below for your pleasure. Mammograms are a gift you give yourself once a year after you reach a certain age...39+1, 45-5, 100-60, 15+5+5+5+5+5 Love math. Good times...

I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment's gone
All my dreams, pass before my eyes, a curiosity
Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind
Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do, crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see

Dust in the wind, All we are is dust in the wind

Don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky
It slips away, all your money won't another minute buy

Dust in the wind, All we are is dust in the wind


Hope you have great day!

Prunes, Pills and Diapers

I've been watching my share of "Golden Girls" episodes these days. The "Golden Girls" is like comfort food. It's like nestling into a big pink pillow. I love the colors of the show, the crazy get-ups those gals wear which always leave me gasping and the writing is dern funny. You just gotta love it! No I don't have DVDs of the show so I'm subjected to the ads the Hallmark channel thinks are right for the "Golden Girls" audience. It's all pills, prunes and diapers. Is that what we come to in life? You need the prunes to loosen things up but then you need a diaper to catch it all and a pill to mask the pain of the whole process? Yowza.

I was supposed to go to a Met HD broadcast this morning of "Der Rosenkavalier". Sadly I'd be coughing my way through the whole opera and I don't want to contaminate an audience which is 99.999% senior citizens. If you want to feel good about yourself just go to one of those broadcasts and sit in the seats where you have to step over the railing to get out of your seat. You'll feel like Nadia Comenici as you fling your leg up and launch yourself over the bar. It makes me treasure what youth I have left! Oh no. Now I'm crying...

So anyway I once was in a yoga class which was all older ladies and me. I did something like touch my toes and I heard gasps of approval. This one lady said, "Wow! You're great!" "And YOUNG," I could have added. Age isn't kind they say. I know a lady who got up from a slot machine in Vegas and broke her hip reaching for her walker. There's a lot wrong with that whole picture starting with the slot machine. I don't know. I just hate to see people attached to slot machines with those cards which are literally draining money out of their bodies.

On to brighter topics! A group of people and I were having dinner at the Harley Davidson Cafe (in Vegas, baby, VEGAS! but I ain't no gambler). P.S. long story long the waiter brought us our food and walked by later asking, "How'd it come out?" My friend replied, "I'll have to let you know." GROSS! Good times in Vegas though you gotta admit! YOU GOTTA ADMIT! OH YEAH! It's nice to go with a group because you're a little bit insulated from some of the creepy aspects. (What creepy aspects?) What's NOT creepy about all the glittering casinos which look different on the outside promising fantasy(!), ye olden times of Excalibur(!), a pirate adventure at Treasure Island(!), or travel to New York or Venice or Paris(!) and the inside is just rows of slot machines and gambling tables and the stench of stale smoke. It's like, "Fooled you! It's STILL HELL!!!" Hell will always look the same I guess. HOWEVER I do love the tile work at the Wynn casino and the red chandeliers at Encore! Gorgeous!

I don't understand why people bring their kids to Vegas. You walk down a street littered with fliers of big boobed women. This can't be good for a child or most adults for that matter. It reminds me of this funny night club act in NY. The singer starts his lounge show about midnight and says, "Christmas is for children and nothing makes me sadder than to see so few children in the audience here tonight."

Speaking of children and getting back to my nightmare gigs from hell theme...
This isn't really a nightmare so much as funny. I played a concert recently which had an 11-year old soloist. The orchestra started playing and was clearly too slow like an elephant galumphing through this light Mozart Concerto. We weren't really that slow but I'm painting a picture if you follow my drift or paintbrush(!) these blogs are so creative! Thanks for reading by the way! Hope you're having a wonderful day:)

So where was I? Our child soloist came in and promptly took off like a bat outta hell. Everyone in the orchestra was like, "WHOA! What?!" We all caught up...eventually. This 11-year old was like "This is how it's done, baby. Eat my dust!" She did a very good job. Her whole family sat in the front row right in front of the piano. They sat in the front row right in front of the piano for the rehearsal too. That's what support looks like. That's also what suffocation looks like. Before she came on stage I looked at her mother's face. It was like looking into the face of utter terror. It was like someone facing a firing squad. Poor mothers. That's how it goes with showbiz! How nerve-racking that they have no control when their child has to perform.

I was recently invited to a 6th grade band concert. Thinking of any grade school ensemble reminds me of the All-City Orchestra I played in growing up. It was composed of 300 out of tune violins. The sound when everyone started playing was like a huge hovercraft taking off or a gigantic humming bird taking wing. 300 different versions of each note that was played. It was incredible! You could float a piece of paper over the top of whirring jumble of sound.

KEN CAKE!

Why shouldn't Ken have a cake? He's so pretty and delicious with his sweet pouty lips and lesbian haircut. He could almost be a woman...a very handsome woman who just so happens to be strong, masculine, short finger-nailed and good with tools! But I digress...but from what? Don't you need to digress from something? You said it! (What?)

Anyway, it's New Year's Day 2010. My resolution is to believe in my ideas! I have to say I almost gave up on my dream of making the Ken cake. My sister was talking about making a Barbie cake and how she did it. Just then it was like WHAMMO(!) and I was like BINGO! What about a KEN cake?! Seriously! I mean WHAT ABOUT IT?! Has it ever been done?! From that little whisper of a dream came a trip to Target and the doll aisle. Ken is actually the only option I had. There was only one blond dreamy Ken doll left to choose from after all the hard scrabble holiday scavenging. What happened to Mod Hair Ken? You know with the glue-on sideburns? What about Magic Earring Ken? Shouldn't they have Mullet Ken? I mean if they're trying to break this gay thing that Ken kind of has or not even kind of has...he HAS it! Big time! GAY!!!! A mullet would un-gay him for sure. A mullet milords and miladies is only gay on a lady. But again, I digress.

I guess any Ken doll is fine for a little girl. She just needs a guy to escort Barbie to the big GAY-la! But when is it Ken's turn? If he could talk to me he would probably say, "Britt, I'm tired of wearing those boring old tuxedos all the time escorting Barbie hither and yon. (Hither and YON? What?) She doesn't even notice what I wear! Why oh why can't I be the pretty belle of the ball for once!? Where's my yummy gown?" Well Ken, your dream has come true!

I got one of my nieces a Ken doll and she didn't have any guy clothes for him. She brought him out wearing a dress. I acted as the voice of Ken and said, "I don't know WHO I wanna kiss!" My sister groaned. Oh dearie me. I can be such a troublesome auntie!

My New Year's resolution is to follow my instincts! See things through! (Just a minute the phone rang...fun! Gotcha!) So back to seeing things through. As I stood in the Target aisle exhausted, fighting a cold, fighting the end of 2009 doldrums I grasped what little confidence I had and I grabbed that Ken and I held him tight! Oh so tight!!! Yes this dream of this cake may be a farce and it may fail and I may be laughed at and made to be a laughing stock and maybe his erect body won't stay erect in the cake like the proud little sentinel I know he is and blah blah blah a million other things racing through my mind so flash forward...

I purchased the bronze adonis Ken doll and proceeded to Safeway where I gazed at the cake mixes in complete befuddlement. No. A cake mix would NOT do this time around. Not for Ken. Not my Ken. He's better than that. What's more he would appreciate my efforts if I made a cake from scratch. Luckily I had just received the Barefoot Contessa cookbook for my birthday which had a SINFUL coconut cake recipe. Yes. This was my mission if I chose to accept it. I grabbed a container of multi-colored sprinkles and leapt into the other aisles to procure the other LOW CAL (Ha!) ingredients I would need to make my dream come true...to make Ken's dream come true. Nothing no nothing would stop us now...

So I ended 2009 with a gamble and it paid off. It paid off BIG TIME! Ken was more beautiful than I even could have dreamed (or is it dreamt? Is that a word?) Everyone at the party devoured him after the stroke (or many strokes...just kidding! GROSS!) of midnight. I had wrapped him in sanitary cling wrap and the rest I guess as they say is history. His lips shimmered in the moonlight as the blade cut into his cake skirt. Anyway you can imagine the rest. Oh. He was good. He was THAT good.

I don't know who'd I'd be if I hadn't attempted this Ken cake and SUCCEEDED beyond my wildest dreams! It's one of the most wonderful things I've ever done! Can you tell I'm a drama queen? Well Ken, takes one to know one! Meow! Thank you 2009 for ending so SWEETLY!