Do you remember the first time your mother made you buy the Kotex? Slinking through the drugstore with that big box of pads all the while hoping you didn’t run into any boys you knew? Or when you bought a package of condoms for the first time? Or just started buying them again after finding yourself out in the dating world after a relationship of years was over? Slipping the box onto the conveyor at the checkout strategically placed among a dozen other items because you were too old to be embarrassed, right? That box of Trojans propped up between the Diet Coke and the toilet bowl cleaner was a sign of how comfortable you were with your mature woman’s sexuality – until the teenage cashier turned out to be the student in your homeroom whose name and face you never could remember but were unlikely to forget again? Read Full Article
Sex
Actual time and effort was devoted to the discovery of which body part is mentioned most often in song and the winner was (drum roll) the eyes.
There is no small irony in the fact that only song I can think of and really like about eyes is the Jeff Healey Band’s Angel Eyes which I think is from that awful Patrick Swazye movie Road House*.
Ironic, you ask?
Yes, ironic given the fact that Jeff Healey lost his eyes to cancer.
But here is the song anyway because I really have always liked it. It was one of those songs from my youth that desperately wished I could find someone worthy enough to dance with whenever it played.**
Girl, you’re looking, fine tonight,
and every guy has got you in his sights.
What you’re doing, with a clown like me,
is surely one of life’s little, mysteries
So tonight I’ll ask the stars above,
“How did I ever win your love?”
What did I do?
What did I say,
to turn your angel eyes my way?
Well, I’m the guy who never learned to dance,
never even got one second glance
Across a crowded room was close enough,
I could look but I could never touch
So tonight I’ll ask, the stars above,
“How did I ever win your love?”
What did I do?
What did I say,
to turn your angel eyes my way?
Don’t anyone wake me,
if it’s just a dream
‘Cause she’s the best thing,
ever happened to me
All you fellows, you can look all you like,
but this girl you see, she’s leavin’ here with me tonight
There’s just one more thing that I need to know,
if this is love why does it scare me so?
It must be somethin only you can see,
’cause girl I feel it when you look at me
So tonight I’ll ask the stars above,
“How did I ever win your love?”
What did I do?
What did I say,
to turn your angel eyes my way?
hey, hey, hey, yeah, awww
*The best scene in that movie is when Swazye’s character does his love interest against the wall and then seemingly dances her across the room without slipping out. An impressive cinematic decision on the part of the filmmaker.
**Rob thinks this is a really dumb song, but the opportunity for dancing to it hasn’t ever come up and it doesn’t suit him, or us, lyrically in my opinion anyway.
….breasts and strategically lighted, professionally groomed pudendum (or “pussy” if you prefer because apparently everyone doesn’t speak Latin).
I have never seen the film, 2005 was not a stellar year for me and movie-going, but I think Dame Judi Dench won an Oscar? Or perhaps just a nomination. In any event she was wonderful to watch and the scenes without her don’t sparkle nearly as much.
But I am a sucker for eccentric old lady movies, perhaps due to the fact that I fully intend to be one when the appropriate age presents itself.
In keeping with our near perfect tradition of choosing films where a character is widowed or experiences death in some other way, Mrs. Henderson opens with a funeral. Mrs. Henderson has been recently widowed.
And I thought – fuck me. Why am I plagued with blue-ray representatives of Queen Victoria at her blackest?
But you know what, that isn’t really true. I have yet to met an imaginary widow who doesn’t strive to break free of Lizzie’s misused rule book.
Mrs. Henderson did not disappoint.
Laura Henderson: [at Mrs. Henderson’s husband’s funeral] I’m bored with widowhood.*
Lady Conway: My dear, you’ve just scratched the surface.
Laura Henderson: I have to smile at everybody. I’ve never had to smile at everybody. In India, there were always people to look down on.
Lady Conway: People are merely being sympathetic. After all, you have lost your husband.
Laura Henderson: Well I didn’t mislay him! It was most inconsiderate of Robert to die. What on earth am I supposed to do now?
Lady Conway: It’s really not so bad. Widows are allowed hobbies.
Laura Henderson: Hobbies?
Lady Conway: Yes. Embroidery, things like that.
Laura Henderson: Are you mad?
Lady Conway: I’ve graduated to weaving. Would you care to see my tapestries?
Laura Henderson: I’d rather drink ink.
Lady Conway: Committees are good of course. I serve on quite a few charities. Once your husband dies, it’s quite permissible to help the poor. And now, there’s no one to stop you buying things. Also, of course, there’s a great deal of time for lovers.
Laura Henderson: Margot, I’m nearly 70!
Lady Conway: That’s true, but you’re also very rich. The one cancels out the other.
Okay, widowhood is probably a lot different when you are not looking at decades of it but I have to admit I was long over widowhood itself within a very short span of time. Like Mrs. Henderson I wanted to do and grow and move on. Unlike her I didn’t have the money to buy a theater, so I blogged instead. There is something to be said for creative outlets.
Rob didn’t like the movie. He gave it a “meh”.
It is not quite a chick flick but veers dangerously.
Oh and there is nudity. Strategically lit and neatly trimmed.**
*Writing credits(in alphabetical order) |
||
| David Rose | idea | |
| Kathy Rose | idea | |
| Martin Sherman | written by | |
**Boys and girls
anniegirl1138 