Random Bits

... but I'm not gonna lie.  The Fruit of the Loom ads with the race car pit crew doing their thing in their boxers makes me laugh every single time.  And the announcer is talking about how high performance their underwear is in crazy prose.

Well done, ad people!  Clever ad, that is entertaining *and* was good enough I remembered your product. (Yes, I realize there is the stunt woman action sequence for the ladies, but it was the crowd of guys swarming a car in their undies that I saw first).

Seen in the local weekly paper in my parent's town:

"The Clothing Exchange is held at the Barn at the Josiah Smith Tavern.

On Tuesday, May 15, we open at 10 a.m. with the Spring Bag Sale and final day to collect profits. Come to the Barn at the Josiah Smith Tavern, and for $10 you can fill a supplied paper bag with any of our varied selectmen of men’s, children’s and women’s clothing."

I so want this! For only $10 you, too, can fill a supplied paper bag with selectmen!

Awesome!

...I've seen lately is my brother wearing a "1st Visit!" Disney World button yesterday. I am sure it was to appease the hellions, I mean his children. I asked him what he thought of Disney World and he replied a little less than sincerely that it was "magical." K and the kids seem to have had a wonderful time.

B wants a Disney cover for her iPod Touch. G got a cover that was all gold rhinestones (surprised me, but hey, if she wanted sparkle and bling who an I to argue? She's still all sweatshirts and t-shirts and jeans).

...We're so surprised.

Max has taken to turning himself around and backing up while moving to a different part of the same room. And more times than not he gets tangled up in himself because he won't get out of his own way.

Oh, Max. You are such a loveable, loving doofus.

Saw my folks for lunch. They're both doing well - we discussed my vacation and their travel to Rochester, NY to see friends and family (apparently in HS my dad was known for running fast, always being late for school, and being smart. Not surprised. My Mom also found out his HS nickname but he would not let her tell me), and Max's time spent with my brother where he whined all night. Well, yeah, he's only been away from home once before since my folks brought him home, and my brother wanted him to settle in a New Place that smelled like Another Dog? Oy. My brother is not SMRT sometimes. He should have stayed at my folks' house overnight instead of moving Max.

My Dad is still planning to go golfing with his brother and cousin(s) in October. But neither my mom nor I have faith that if Cousin R is making the arrangements (you're *sure* R knows he's supposed to find you all somewhere to stay? Absolutely positive? Really?) that they will be able to find a place at this late date. But that is all up to R. R, who has a habit of monologue-ing in his broad NJ accent (his funniest, that horrifies his daughter and makes his son laugh is he is going to create and install an ATM machine (Afterlife Teller Machine) as his headstone that has a video interface so he can dispense their inheritance to his kids in multiples of $20. And he can harangue them from the grave "You! We never see you unless you want money! You want a hundred bucks? Here - here's forty. Come back next week and visit maybe I'll give you a hundred!" or "What - back again already? Its only been two days - what did you do with the last money I gave you?" Yeah, Cousin R is a riot - unless you're one of his kids, I suppose).

Ah well. Day off tomorrow. ♥

So we continued the costuming portion of the show last night (and then we ran act 2 OFF BOOK OMG!), and for the housekeeper I tried on a vintage dress. It is lovely, but slightly (very very slightly) too tight in the sleeve/upper back/bustline. It is a size 10, but a size 10 from fifty years ago is very different than a size ten today. Plus my girls are slightly too big. Now, most of this can be "fixed" with the proper foundation garment (not all, certainly, and I'll be watching what I eat far more in the next three weeks).

So I shall be looking for ridiculous, minimizing underwear this weekend. It has been a really long time since I went looking for ridiculous underwear. It is always a show that brings me to looking for it, too.

Other news is not so much news. I am singing, loudly, all the musical numbers I am in and trying to remember my harmonies. Sadly, I have to sing them down - where the basses are singing them, rather than up where the altos are *supposed* to be. Teenage boy voice, I swear.

And going to see the Full Monty tonight at Turtle Lane. Ugh, I want to see the show, but I kinda don't want to leave my house. The weather sucks outside.

As someone who recently celebrated being a year older, I am feeling kinda blah about my age. Though last night at rehearsal one of our newbies thought she, at thirty-six was way older than me (by more than ten years!). I had to tell her that, no, in fact, I am older than her. By only a few years, but, yeah, chronologically older. She was flummoxed.

Not the first time something like that has happened.

It made me feel good.

What is it about social conditioning? Should we call it "brainwashing?"

Last night, I went to be a dresser and all-around costume help for a local production of "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum..." and sitting for most of the night at a sewing machine trying to help complete the costumes.

Now, a little backstory. In the Theatre - at whatever level - there is a specific call-and-response between stage managers and their actors. The stage manager keeps the official "show clock" - which means periodically they'll sweep through a backstage area and call out how long until places, so the actors know how much time they've still got. And they'll do it in countdown form, so no one gets confused. A typical call would be "One hour until places" or "ten minutes until places."

A conditioned or experienced cast will respond to the call by saying "Thank you one hour" or "Thank you ten minutes" or whatever call the stage manager said. This is so the stage manager has confirmation that whoever needed to know actually hear her (or him), parsed the information, and would be ready in time.

It gets interesting if for whatever reason the stage manager has to hold the house. The calls can get creative "Two minutes and holding for the nursing home bus - they're here, but safer to let them sit in the house lights than not!"

Last night the stage manager came through with the fifteen minute call, and I am conditioned to respond, even though what she said had absolutely no bearing on me or what I was doing. I wasn't going to STOP what I was doing, I didn't actually have to go anywhere. But I responded, because I am conditioned to. It isn't evil conditioning, but I don't think I can let a time call go without responding - it would make me feel weird to NOT respond... even when the call is not for me.

Which makes me think of other responses that are conditioned in. I suppose driving is the ultimate in conditioning. Stop at a stop sign, drive on the right, green means go, red means stop, keep your eyes open, don't mow down the pedestrians (no matter how tempting that fifty points is).

Any other conditioning, brainwashing, automatic action anyone out there takes, and how you came to be that way? Anyone ever owned by a cat, I know what you've been conditioned to do. Dogs try, but they aren't very good at conditioning the humans they own. Other circumstances?

"Stuff"
"Section UmptySquat"