To all the Moms in my life, and especially to my own Mom. I never knew just how much work it took to raise such perfect children. You did a good job – Lisa and I rock. [wink]
Moms, make sure your peeps are being good to you today. As Todd told Rollie this morning:
“It’s Mother’s Day. That means we have to be nice to Mama.”
Amen.
First of all, Mom seems to be doing pretty well. Visited her in the hospital (hospy, to family in the know) and she seems better than before. Still hoping they will keep her a while longer, as she is precious cargo, and I would be afraid that Dad and I would screw things up here at the house.
2nd of all, if my father ever says he got “really good movies” at the video store, you should be scared. That usually means that you are going to be watching Iron Eagle II. Mom and Dad have a tendency to bring home the same movie over and over, not remembering that a)it wasn’t that good the first time around, and b)they already saw it. Ask them how many times they have rented the movie where Michelle Pfeiffer is dead and comes back to life (or something? have not seen it.) Anyway, the answer is “tons.”
That being said, I almost keeled over when the movies Dad picked turned out to be Last King of Scotland and Borat. Unfortunately for Dad, he wasn’t too jazzed about LKOS until people started bleeding a lot, and unfortunately for me, that meant he talked a lot during the first half. Dad doesn’t do dialogue. He does however like to namecheck the movie Manhattan, referring to it as a “social commentary,” even though I don’t think he knows what that means, or if he has even ever watched the whole movie. I also think that if he knew it was directed by that Commie Woody Allen, he wouldn’t talk about it so much.
All of the above two paragraphs are so not the point of this post. The point is: OMG. Forrest Whitaker is really good, and really scary as Idi Amin. I am also a little surprised that the lead kid wasn’t nominated. I thought he was actually really good, and you never heard that much about his performance.
Also feeling some Darfur guilt after watching it. Like, yeah, this happened in the not-so-distant past in Uganda, but here I am sitting and watching a movie while similar shit is still happening.
Must go drink another glass of wine. Do not be jealous, as it is Cecil Wine. That means that he opened a bottle like six months ago, stuck the stopper back in, and tells visitors that it is “perfectly good.” Note to Palmer guests: It is wise to bring a “hostess’ gift” of whatever it is you like to drink.
p.s. Love and kisses and hugs to all of you that have called and emailed and checked in on us. We love our Mama. Glad you do too.
I come from some wild women. . .
This was in my mom’s family photos. The photo says “Mother 1870,” but that seems a little early for this one, especially since the sign says something about auto insurance. Would love to be able to research the clothing to date it more accurately. We are also not sure who “Mother” is (she is the one third from the right), but have it narrowed down to one of the following:
Confused yet? Anyway, I love the picture and think it is just the coolest thing ever. They look like trouble. I think they are holding instruments, too. Nice twist.
This is my mom (right), with her best friend Judy in Daytona Beach.
Then there’s Grandma and Aunt Dot. My cousin remarked that he thought this picture was staged. I don’t think so. This is what family gatherings in my childhood looked like. Seriously.
I’ll leave the wild woman pictures of myself for Matilda to blog. Plus, I ain’t finished. Grandma and Aunt Dot were still doin’ it in their 80’s. I’m not even 35 yet.
My grandfather turns 91 today. You ain’t seen nothin’. He’s seen four wars (not including these two latest ones), the holocaust, the coming of electricity, running water, automobiles, the telephone, the radio, and television. I’m pretty sure he thinks the way a mouse operates is simply magic.
I wrote a really long post about him for his 90th last year. My mom thought it was cool. Yes, my mom reads my blog; Frightening, no? Just what you want your mama to read: This, or this, or this. She printed the post out and showed it to him. He read it, smiled, and was quiet for a few seconds, then said, “I guess she’ll just put the death dates on later.” He is a funny guy. Happy birthday, Pop! I love you!
That’s us together in Christmas of ’77: From left – Dad, Me, Grandma Smith, Pop, Lisa, and Grandma Palmer.