Hope you all had a loverly Thanksgiving! We were invited to a couple of T-Day celebrations but after the week I just had, we decided to ditch them and stay home for the day. I finally got that cozy snow day that I had been longing for, where we slept in (and I have now firmly established myself as a Very Old Lady because “sleeping in” in my world means that we got up at 8:30), walked around in the snow (this time for more than 10 minutes), read on the couch, cooked, and beat the shit out of each other on the Wii. For dinner, Biogirl came over and we ate, talked, and watched a movie. I realized that this was the first Thanksgiving in a long time where we weren’t hosting a shindig or going to someone else’s hootenanny. It was nice.
Also, this week:
It was on tv, so we watched it. There is a scene in this movie that made Nordic Boy laugh until he cried and almost passed out. It’s the scene where Will Farrell belches for a really long time. That’s all, nothing else. If there are two things that will make Nordic Boy pee his pants laughing, it’s a long belch and someone getting hit in the nuts. I hate to get all gender-stereotypey, but is that a guy thing? I don’t know. I mean, I think it’s funny too, yes. But weeping with hilarity? I don’t know. I love to see him laugh that hard though.
I want to answer my phone by saying “Hello, I’m very busy and important, how can I help you?” from now on.
I started to tell someone about this movie and they were all “they already made a MOVIE about Eva Longoria’s divorce?” But nopes, this one is a documentary about the first Mexican American soldier to be buried in Arlington National Cemetary because people would not allow him a military burial in his hometown due to his ethnicity. Tony Parker does not appear.
Home for the Holidays
“Par par bogey bogey par par.”
The Last Stand, by Nathaniel Philbrick
Almost done with this, and it turns out Custer was a total dick. 500 pages to learn that shocker. I knew the history of this battle pretty well going in, but the details in this account, especially about each person involved, were pretty dang fascinating. Old Man Book, score!
Blister in the Sun, by Violent Femmes
I heard this song this morning and thought about how, when I was a kid, I thought the counting part was just, you know, counting. I didn’t realize what he was counting. Because of that, I still think of it as a sort of cute counting song, along the lines of something one would hear on Sesame Street. Note to self: don’t sing this as a lullaby while babysitting.
When I was a teenager, I was in choir. We did everything, from the full Mozart Coronation Mass to holiday carols in Middle English to showtunes to pop songs. One year, we did a song called Fruitcake, for our December concert. It was the stupidest, silliest crap you have ever heard, and we had full on choreography to spice it up even more. I had never heard of that song before that, nor after. The only other person I have ever met that knows that song is my friend Nan, who was also in choir in high school. This got me thinking that maybe the song only exists in the vortex that is high school choir or show choir. Then, I got on the magical interwebs and confirmed. Many kids’ choirs are being subjected to Fruitcake, The Song. And many of them are attempting choreography to go along with it. Because when you sing about a nasty holiday loaf, you must dance, or at the very least pantomime about it, am I right?
This rendition is awesome. Not because it’s the most polished, but just because these kids are embracing the cheese, and you all know how much I love that. Plus they have a sort of robot style that I am digging. Robots, Fruitcake, Show Choir. Three things that should always go together.