Showing posts with label RIP. Show all posts
Showing posts with label RIP. Show all posts

October 1, 2008

She Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth

I was going to make a quick post this morning about something I saw on the way to work this morning, but I didn't have the all-important picture to accompany it (no camera in the car strikes again). I did a quick search online for a usable related photo and ended up finding the exact blog entry I had planned to type myself...

Batesville Motel

I don't know why death is suddenly following me all around, but at least I'm not the only one.

September 30, 2008

Cat People

I had a super shitty day at work yesterday. I went home pissed off and blasted lots of loud music for several hours, then finally passed out and had a sound 6-hour night's sleep.

I woke up with a different attitude. Believe me, it's far from an optimistic one, but just the fact that I got up and got ready which the intention of going back to my job instead of tossing in the towel is an improvement from the night before. I'm still angry, and disappointed, but I think I have some priorities and objectives to now realign and reclassify. Either way, I think I need a day of silence. A little peace before action.

I walked down the stairs and out the door. It may have rained last night. I don't know--I don't have a window in my bedroom. Definitely a cool September day, but I left my jacket in the car the night before. I clicked my keys to unlock the Honda across the street in front of the vacant lot. Normally this action is an alarm clock for the pair of stray cats that live on block, and always seem to sleep under my car. I crossed the street trying to figure out what music I would listen to on the way to work now that my non-iPod came back to life.

I knew one of the cats was under the car. I saw his outline. I knelt down and peeked under. It was the orange and black one, and he was still sleeping. Well I don't really know if he is a he. I always assume that when I see two cats that one is a boy cat and the other is a girl cat. I just learned that how false this assumption was last week when the RoBeastress told me that Pooka, (one of Kirk and Cindy's cats I had been taking care of while they were on vacation) was a girl, not a boy like I insisted. I've known Pooka and her sister Zoe (who I correctly believed was a girl) for 4 or 5 years now and have probably heard her referred to as "her" a million times, but I just put a complete mental block on her gender. Part of it is probably due to my obsession with symmetry and the inability of my brain to perceive Kirk as outnumbered 3-to-1 in the household, but Pooka is a girl's name for chrissakes! I was in complete denial.

I was also in denial that the stray cat under my car was dead. I whistled at him and begged him to wake up. I used to have a cat that was an alarmingly heavy sleeper. When he was a kitten, he used to dream and twitch in his sleep and it scared the shit out of me. I would shake him and he would sleep right through it. Then he would just wake up and look at me as if I were crazy.

I was afraid to touch the stray though. I've wanted to pet him so bad in the 3 and a half years we've lived on the block together, but I think we both knew that wasn't going to happen. I'm horribly allergic to cats as it is, but who knows what diseases these mangy strays have living under their claws? The two cats were always together though and took care of whatever physical affection each other needed, without any help from humans. And someone on the block, I don't know who, always put out some vittles for them a couple times a week. And if they weren't happy with that, there was always the Vietnamese restaurant a few doors down.

I got in the car and turned it on in vain. He didn't wake up.

I just finished watching Less Than Zero last night, and knew how it was going to end as soon as I put it on. A young Robert Downey, Jr. , estranged from his family with no regular place to stay, easily falls prey to the dangers of the streets. He's charming and pleasant to his acquaintences, but he's caught in a cycle that has a predictable and inevitable finish. He was a human stray.

In Art and Life, I guess I can't really claim to be surprised by this outcome either. Maybe just far from optimistic, still angry, disappointed...

Here he is in happier times. RIP Kitty Kat.

July 23, 2008

A celebrity death that I did not cause.

Bozo The Clown - RIP

I had planned to write a Bozo the Clown tribute today because I recently caught a snippet about Bozo the Clown dying. What I didn't realize is that there are a Bazillion Bozo the Clowns here to amuse you on Planet Erff.

The skeptic in me is beginning to question if the same is true about Santa Claus but that's a different story.

The one that died 20 days ago, Larry Harmon, was perhaps the most pivotal Bozo (PS - Pivotal Bozo should be a band name), but truth be told, I never even saw him don the red nose. Harmon was an actor hired by Capitol Records to appear as Bozo at promotional appearances in the 50's and eventually bought the rights to the Bozo name. He was then able to get Bozo on TV screen across the country. This was not so much a syndication as it was a franchise, meaning there were multiple Bozos being produced at the local market level as opposed to one Bozo show being produced and broadcast everywhere. Apparently, [MINDBLOWN] Romper Room followed the same model [/MINDBLOWN]. So, Larry Harmon was not my Bozo. My Bozo, as it turns out, was several Bozos.

Growing up on the Jersey Shore meant my television screen was covered by both Philadelphia and New York markets, but neither had a Bozo. In 1989, Philly 57 became my Bozo headquarters. Ok, I was 11 by then and probably too old to watch clowns, but this was novel and fascinating to me, and I couldn't resist. I loved watching the kids fail at Bozo's grand prize game and also got a real kick out of the phrase "Wowie Kazowie!" which I still say occasionally. I am also sort of obsessed with dudes that dress up in masks or costumes and transform themselves into characters. It turns out that there was not one, but two Bozos in the City of Brotherly Love. In 1990 the Hollywood-Bozo-out-on-loan, Deon Aumier, got homesick and made a seamless transition to the Cameraman-turned-Clown, Bob McCone. McCone continued as Bozo until 1994 when the show went off the air in Philly. This is Bob McCone's story of Bozo.

I'm not sure what happened to Aumier, but obviously, Bob McCone is still alive. Or at least he is until I hit "Publish Post."

Here goes...

Larry Harmon (January 2, 1925 - July 3, 2008)

[update 2:47 pm]

A loyal BaTR reader (who will remain nameless as she refuses to leave a comment in the comment section) asks:

"OK, so you're not guilty of murdering Bozo with your blog. But tell me: Did you ever mention Estelle Getty?!"

The unfortunate truth is, Yes. I mentioned the Golden Girls in last months' Sex in the City review. I did not mention any of the girls specifically by name so the Murderous RoBeast Angel of Death decided to randomly choose Estelle Getty. I am really sorry. I love the Girls of Gold and Ma was my favorite. You know I would have preferred it to be one of the Sex in the City broads.