The High Tech Huxtables

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at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Here’s a 21^st century Norman Rockwell moment for you: I was sitting on the couch in between my parents: me with an iPhone, my Mom with an iPad, and my Dad with an iPod.  How I wish I’d gotten a picture of this. What a holiday card that would’ve made. We looked like the high-tech Huxtables. What had happened was…

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In Line, On Line, Off Line

If you have strong feelings about whether we stand in line or on line then you may not want to read this. But I think you’re up to the challenge. I think you can handle me using the terms interchangeably, letting colloquial usage win over grammatical correctness. Welcome: This is how a former English major walks on the wild side.

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May the Fourth Be With You

I got an email from someone I didn’t know telling me that Martin’s memorial service would be on Saturday. Martin? Martin who? But deep down I knew. I just didn’t want to know. I emailed back and said, “I know several people named Martin. Can you give me a last name?” This was a tad disingenuous. Chalk it up to preemptive denial. There are only four Martins in my address book and I can’t remember who three of them are. The fourth Martin? He is unforgettable.

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In Search of The Black Female Superhero

Happy Mothers Day, Mom. I Love You

Back in the day I was a big fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Xena: The Warrior Princess. My friends knew not to call me when those shows were on. I’d be ensconced in front of the TV watching Buffy and the Scoobies patrol the Sunny Dale Hell Mouth. And who, I ask you who was more bad ass than Lucy Lawless? Perhaps in her case I’m just biased towards women with alliterative names. Lucy Lawless. Leighann Lord. You see, I can always find a way to make it all about me. That’s my gift; my personal superpower if you will. Pardon me while I put on my cape.

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Evolve or Die

Image courtesy of Master isolated 

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I got a chance many years ago to work with one of my favorite political comedians, Barry Crimmins. It was an honor. I had gotten ahold of his comedy tape, Don’t Shoot the Messenger (you heard me, I said tape) and damn near wore it out. Wore it out I tell you. The pleasure of working with him was compounded by the fact that he was a nice guy who didn’t mind talking to a comedy neophyte. We were having a lovely conversation until I innocently asked that if he’d started in comedy clubs, why didn’t he play there more now?

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