WWWWD? (What Would Willy Wonka Do?)

by Shari on May 22, 2013

“So much time and so little to do. Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it. Thank you.” –Gene Wilder, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

I had a mad crush on Gene Wilder as a kid and one of the main reasons was his outrageously fun performance in this 1971 classic. (Don’t even talk to me about the remake, blecch blah yucky poo). I recently introduced my kids to this film and thank goodness they are as obsessed with it as I was, otherwise we might have to have a conversation about them continuing as my children.

And so today, I think about the wise, crafty, sly, creative, melodic, hilarious, evenly-paced Wonka as I try to catch you up on the insane amount of stuff that’s been going on.

First of all, just a random thought: who decided that this was a good idea?

Hi! My name is Brian, but you can just call me “Freakin’ Creepy”!

I went with my daughter’s Girl Scout Troop to the Great Wolf Lodge water park (you’ll hear about that soon), but in the lobby they do something called The Great Clock Tower Story. I have no memory of the Story, or of the Great Clock Tower, because I was so completely terrified by this evil sprite popping up out of a hollowed-out log. Way to give the kiddies (and their troop leader) nightmares, people.

Also, this?

This is just so many kinds of wrong. This is beyond the kind of wrong that is so wrong that it’s right. Skip right over right and go right to wrong.

So… you may have noticed that I haven’t been writing as much lately. I hope you can forgive me and I hope you can understand the siren call of being paid to write. Yes, in cash money.

You know that I’m the editor of Mommy Poppins New Jersey and that I write for Cool Mom Picks and I have a weekly column at the wonderful In The Powder Room (are you getting tired? I’m getting tired), but I actually have a new gig that I’m super excited about: I’ve started writing for NickMom and my first piece is there today, called “Top 9 Signs That You Might Be Overcaffeinated“. (Of course I did not write this from first-hand experience or anything, but I have, uh, friends that drink a lot of coffee. And tea. And Wild Cherry Diet Pepsi. And 5 Hour Energy Shots. And Excedrin Migraine with 65 milligrams of caffeine and trace amount of barbituates.)

And yes, it’s utter madness to be doing this much, but I’ll be honest with you about something. My family is going through a hard time right now and even though I don’t paid a whole lotta cash money for each job, you put it all together and it’s not too bad. “But, Dusty” you say, “you just had a fabulous vacation at the Great Wolf Lodge water park with demented plastic children popping out of stumps, how poor can you be?” Well, truth be told, that fancypants holiday was purchased by Thin Mints and DoSiDo’s, paid for by the blood, sweat and tears of little girls hawking baked goods; not a dime came out of my pocket, which is a good thing since I need to save up for therapy to recover from:

Hi! My name is Brian, but you can just call me “Devil’s Teat”!

And so, my dear readers, I hope you can forgive me for flitting about and I hope you love me enough to give that extra click-through, because Lord knows, these jobs are keeping my family in bacon hot dogs. And remember, in the words of my beloved Willy Wonka, “Invention is 93% perspiration, 6% electricity, 4% evaporation and 2% butterscotch ripple.”

Yes, that’s 105%. And that’s what’s necessary right now.

xxxooo,

Dusty

Today I’m over at In The Powder Room with The Bra That Knew Too Much and at NickMom with “Top 9 Signs That You Might Be Overcaffeinated“. I’m drinking a Red Bull to celebrate.

{ 13 comments }

I Listened. And Then I Slept.

by Shari on May 16, 2013

I am the kind of tired that can only come from nerve-jangling anticipation followed by ecstatic fun followed by post-show tears followed by falling into a coma.

This was Listen To Your Mother NYC.

Yeah, that says “Sten To Your Mother”, but you get the idea.

Directed by the incomparable Amy Wilson, assistant-directed by moi, produced by the hardest working women in show biz, Holly Rosen Fink and Varda Steinhardt, this show was a mother-love fest. All of the pieces read were stellar, and here are a few of them that you can actually read online: Marinka absolutely KILLED with It’s Always Bad News; Kim Forde and her 8 and 1/2 month pregnant belly gave us some love and laughs with Welcome To The Circus; and Elizabeth (Kizz) Robinson wowed ‘em with About Me. Hopefully, I’ll be able to share stories more with you soon, along with the professional photos (by the incredible Jennifer Lee), but here’s a teeny-weeny shot of the bow.

I know you’re salivating for this (or not), but here is the piece I read on Sunday. This one’s for you, Mama Rose.

Rose’s Turn

I would have liked to listen to my mother, but I had trouble hearing her over the zils. What? You don’t know what zils are? Oh, I guess that means that your mother wasn’t a belly dancer.

In 1972, there were 35 suburban housewives who took Miss Evelyn’s Oak Lawn, Illinois Park District class “Bellydancing for Fun and Fitness”. 34 of those housewives did not go on to make bellydancing their profession, performing at restaurants and anniversary parties and baby showers all over the state of Illinois. One did.

If you asked me “was it strange having a mother who was a bellydancer while all the other moms in the 70’s were going to PTA meetings and making pot roasts for their families?”, I would say yes and no. You see, Mama Rose was the original multitasking wonder so she was also making pot roast and attending the PTA, she just occasionally would do so with a bright red jewel in her navel that she had forgotten to remove.

And since I didn’t usually accompany her to her “gigs”, it wasn’t right in my face. And when I went away to college, a good three hour drive from where I grew up, I almost forgot what Mama Rose did for a living.

Until my 21st birthday.

I had planned to celebrate quietly, meeting a few friends that night at our usual hangout, a restaurant/bar just off the campus of the University of Illinois.

The strange thing was, that throughout the day the party kept getting bigger and bigger. Every one I saw would say, “See you tonight, Shari!!” and they seemed really excited. Huh.

Oh sure, it seemed a bit strange when one of my professors, a dapper graying-at-the-temples British gentleman also  said, “See you tonight, Shari!”, but what could I think other than “Wow. I’m really popular”?

At my “little gathering” that night, we took over the entire place. I was glowing, both from the literal dozens of people who had shown up, some of whom I barely knew, and from my first legal margarita. I was on top of the world! 21 years old! Popular! Loved even by middle-aged Brits with tenure!

And that’s when the middle Eastern music blasted over the loudspeakers. And my mother, complete with veils, a waist-length wig, sparkly push-up bra and a glowing red ruby in her tanned, bare belly, danced in.

And the place went up for grabs. People were screaming. Dollar bills were flying. Mama Rose was doing back-bends and my distinguished leather-elbow-patched professor was tucking a five-spot into her cleavage. Cooks were coming out of the kitchen and people were coming in off of the street. It was complete and utter pandemonium.

And I just sat there. Stunned. With many thoughts. Here are five of them.

1. “Uhhhhhh….”

2. “Where did she come from?! Did she drive three hours in her costume, put money in the meter, and just dance in?”

3. “I’m 21 today. That means she’s 51. That belly dancer over there. 51.”

4. “I’m not popular. But my mother certainly is.

 5. “Did everyone know? Did every single person who smiled at me today know??? Yes. They all knew. Look at their faces. No one here is surprised. Except me.”

I would like to leave you with a mental image. An image of a skinny little girl holding a melting margarita, staring at her absolute marvel of a mother spinning and shimmying and swooping by in a blur of sequined veils.

May I only inspire such awe, adoration and dread in my own children someday.

**********************************************************************************

And may I ask you a favor? You know that I’m turning 50 soon and I’m making my desires known over on In The Powder Room today. Since I assume you’re shopping for my present, this will make things easier for you.

Gift Guide For The Girl Who Likes Nothing.

 

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My husband’s competition

May 9, 2013

 ************************************ And just in case you’ve ever wondered what the American Girl Dolls talk about when you’re not around, come on over to In The Powder Room for a battle between 1934 doll Kit Kittredge and Saige, the 2013 ‘Girl of the Year’ doll in American Girl Doll Smackdown. It’s WWWF meets pre-teen plastic.

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Better Than Yentl

May 6, 2013

I’m going to be vulnerable and open with you all. I have a geeky love for the movie “Yentl”. (I hope we can still be friends.) When Babs sings “Papa, can you hear me?”, oy veh, I get all verklempt. But according to the title of this post, there is something that tops Hearing from [...]

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Proceed With Caution When Naming Your Kids

May 2, 2013

I know people get all up in arms when they hear the unusual names that celebrities give their children. I don’t. As far as I’m concerned, if you want to name your kid go right ahead. If you feel that one weird name isn’t sufficient and you decide on knock yourself out. I don’t have [...]

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Fill Me Up, Buttercup

April 30, 2013

On Saturday evening, this was in front of my house. Obviously, the 7-year old entrepreneur was at work. But his mother was in a cranky mood due to this and that and whatever bee she’s had in her bonnet lately and scolded the junior Zuckerberg, saying things like “nobody’s going to pay a dollar for [...]

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It was Colonel Mustard in the Nursing Home with a set of Dentures

April 26, 2013

I was excited when my 10-year old niece asked me to play Clue this past weekend, realizing that the last time I saw those nifty little murder weapons strewn across a stately mansion game board was probably during the Carter Administration. But the minute we opened the box, I knew we weren’t in the ’70s [...]

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Love Is An Oozing Pancake

April 25, 2013

My very first acquaintance with the concept of sacrificial love came by way of food. Pancakes, to be exact. I was eight years old and my six-year old sister was making pancakes for our Dad. (Yes, on the stove. With full flames under the pan. This was the 70s, after all, when kids sat in [...]

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Sliver

April 21, 2013

There is a place in my backyard where I like to go to pray. Being a wise woman, I first look down to see if I’m about to sit in 1. poop 2. ants 3. thorns 4. mud 5. discarded beer bottles or chicken wing bones from one of our neighbor’s fling-my-leavings-in-joyful-abandon parties. If none [...]

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For Women and Dog Lovers Only

April 11, 2013

Well, you know I never like to leave you with too much sadness. After yesterday’s post and all your kind words, I had to give you something in return. So, here. You’re welcome! So if you’re a woman or a dog lover (this may be too much for my male readers, but if you’re particularly [...]

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