I'm fascinated, intrigued and more than a little encouraged by Al Gore's political resurgence these days. It’s interesting to note how, nearly six years after the debacle that was the 2000 Presidential Election, he’s the one smelling slightly rosy and looking, dare I say, tanned, rested and ready. Maybe Big Al’s not necessarily the exact answer the Democrats are looking for in 2008 -- it’s too early do anything but speculate longingly. However... with the disturbingly ridiculous Democrat mindset saying out of one side of the mouth that the nomination of Hilary is a foregone conclusion but saying on the other that she’s not electable, I’m looking for anything that remotely resembles a life preserver. Or even carries a whiff of common sensical hope.
File this under Stuff I Really Want But Do Not Need:
Amazon has a cross promotion with the upcoming movie The Devil Wears Prada and is offering a really cool bag/clutch/tote thing designed by the film’s costume designer, the always unique Patricia Field. I need another purse like I need another hole in the head... what woman doesn't... same thing with shoes. I once spent an evening at a private event at Nordstrom, holding court in the shoe department, drinking Cosmos and trying on more shoes than Imdela Marcos. It was, frankly, better than some supposedly good sex I've had. But back to the tote... I’m not sure I’m going to be able to resist this one. It's just too damn cool.
Latest must-see TV guilty pleasure: Supergroup on VH1. Ted Nugent is bat shit crazy and doesn’t give a damn who knows it. Sebastian Bach is the epitome of an aging narcissistic front man. Who knew that Scott Ian, he of Anthrax, that really weird long chin beard (but very handsome face) and endless appearances on those I Love the Decade of Your Choice shows, would turn out to be the voice of reason. And in the opening credits, a cartoon Jason Bohnam spontaniously combusts behind his drum kit in an homage to Spinal Tap. It doesn't get better than that.
Snippets of the so-bad-it's-good dialogue:
"I still agree with me." -- Uncle Ted
"I've been autographing tits since 1986. It's my job. It's what I do." -- Sebastian Bach
Awesome. So, so awesome.
Speaking of rocking... the car began to shake one day last week as I was running some sort of necessary errand. Radio blasting loudly, me singing along. I turn around to see Will, in his car seat, head-banging dancing to Guns n Roses Welcome to the Jungle. My son, my son. How proud I am yet again of you. He also shows similar appreciation for the Stones’ Start Me Up, most Prince tunes and, his favorite and mine, the Police’s Roxanne. My beloved 18-year-old cat is named, of course, after this song, and Will likes nothing better than to bust out with an intonation-accurate rendition of the chorus right in her kitty witty face. How great is that, I ask you...
Favorite song of the week: Dixie Chicks Not Ready to Make Nice. Great song, haunting video. Those girls have great chutzpah. Good on them. Enough said.
I swear that the older a woman gets, the price of her beauty necessities goes up proportionately. I just spent a solid amount of money on sunscreen, SPF 50, for face and body, as well as sunscreen and after sun products for my glorious (and colored) head of hair, in anticipation of our week-long vacation at the end of the month on Captiva Island. Solid investment, I think, in light of the options, but still... ouch.