Tuesday, March 24, 2015

No, we won't forget about you

Saturday, March 24, 1984. Shermer High School, Shermer, Illinois, 60062. Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did *was* wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. What do you care? You see us as you want to see us - in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess and a criminal. Correct? That's the way we saw each other at 7:00 this morning. We were brainwashed.

And so begins one of the most iconic movies of the 80s and one of my all time faves. Certainly one that I quote quite often.

It's been 31 years since that memorable Saturday detention with a group of misfits played by a cast that was affectionately dubbed "The Brat Pack". We've all grown up. Some of us have our own school-aged children who are or will go through the same teen angst portrayed in this movie. My kid is just 11 so I'll wait until his teen years before introducing him to the The Breakfast Club.

In the meantime, here's some fun trivia about the movie according to IDMb (with my comments in blue):

Judd Nelson made up many of the terms used in the movie, including 'Neo-Maxi Zoomdweebie'. I loved this back then and used it to refer to people who annoyed me.

Alison does not speak until 33 minutes into the film. She only squeaks and giggles in the first half hour. 

Other proposed titles were "The Lunch Bunch" and "Library Revolution". No, I don't think so. Good call on keeping it "The Breakfast Club", John Hughes.

At the very closing part of the film where Judd Nelson raises his fist in defiance, that was actually ad libbed. He was supposed to just walked into the sunset, so to speak, and the director asked him to play around with a few actions. When he was done and they were finishing up, Judd Nelson threw his fist up without running it by anyone. Everyone loved it, and it has become an iconic symbol of the 1980's. 


Monday, March 16, 2015

The joint's hoppin' today

Last week while waiting on line at the deli I met an interesting character. He wore a loud, Island-type shirt and came in like he owned the place. Reminded me of a wise-guy on vacation.

"Ay! The joint's hoppin' today." he boomed and then proceeded to make small talk with the workers behind the counter. I immediately made him for someone from the East Coast.

He grabbed a ticket and stood near me and of course I couldn't resist engaging him in conversation.

Me: You're from the East Coast.
Him: What gave it away? My big mouth?

Then he laughed and so did I.

Me: No, your accent. I'm from back East, too. You don't lose the accent.
Him: Yeah, I lost a lot of things but not the accent.
Me: Whereabouts are you from?

Then he told me he was from the Bronx and I nodded and told him I thought as much. He asked me where I was from and I replied that I used to live across the Hudson - New Jersey. We made more small talk about where exactly in Jersey I'm from. He seemed pleased when I mentioned living near the Meadowlands and said Oh yeah, home of the Giants, so I'm guessing he's a fan.

I asked him if he missed all the snow to which he replied: No way! Then we name-dropped a few grocery stores we shopped at back East. Next thing I know my order was done and I had to go.

So, how can you tell someone from the East Coast, specifically NY/NJ area?

Easy. It's the way we talk, or  tawk. We don't drink coffee. We drink cawfee. We don't turn things off. We turn them awff. And we don't just walk our dogs. We walk our dawgs.

I was out with my family one night and ordered a coffee for my mom and the waitress said to me, NJ, right?


Monday, March 9, 2015

Disappointing pizza and darn good burgers

I'm not a foodie blogger and I don't pretend to be one either. However, I'd like to make a few foodie mentions. These are just mine (and the husband's) opinions and observations so take it with a grain of salt. Or pepper. Or cumin.

I'm not a fan of Papa John's Pizza but the husband is. He recently tried the bacon cheeseburger pizza that they've been advertising. And he was so disappointed. We had to take out the microscope to look for the bacon and meat. You know how in the commercial the little boy keeps saying Are you kidding me? Yeah, Bill said the same thing. He contacted the company to tell them his bacon cheeseburger pizza lacked the bacon and burger and they said someone would be in touch to follow up. That was more than a week ago. He's still waiting.

We're not the types to complain about every little thing but sometimes we let companies know if we're unhappy with something. And we do it in a nice way not like assholes who make a stink and expect something free to make up for it. By the same token we praise businesses if their services and products are great.

Saturday night we went to 5 Guys Burgers. This place makes the most amazing burgers I've ever eaten. I tried to eat my cheeseburger slow enough to enjoy it but basically inhaled the thing like an animal. So good. Even my picky son said he was blown away by their hot dogs. Then Chris and I wrote on their Appreciation Board. He drew a pic of a brain exploding and wrote Mind Blown under it.

It's funny because everyone is so excited that White Castle has finally come to Vegas and I was like White Who? Seriously.

The owner handed me a card and asked if I would contact their representative and give my thoughts on our dinner. So I called and basically told the woman who answered that this place is the Mt. Olympus of burgers.

I hope the company rep lets that particular store know that someone gave them rave reviews. I mean if I had called complaining that they forget the mayo on my bun they would probably let the owner know immediately. Complaints are so easy to give, pass on and believe. It should be the same with praise and recognition.

Thursday, March 5, 2015

My suggestions to Netflix

I have a love/hate relationship with the Netflix app on my smartphone. Wait, perhaps I should clarify and say I have a love/hate relationship with the people who choose the content for Netflix. Sometimes they have some good things to watch. And sometimes I question whoever does the ordering of movies/shows for them? Like, are you high?

I don't think they take my past viewing history seriously when their suggestions for "Top Picks for Sandy" include movies like Liz and Dick or sitcoms like Leave it to Beaver. Sounds like bad porn. Maybe someone at Netflix is playing a joke on me.

Recently I was bored so I checked what They picked for me and I was happily surprised. The Twilight Zone. Roseanne. Who Framed Roger Rabbit? Weirdness, and sarcasm and slapstick hilariousness. Finally, they get me!

I really should write them with a few suggestions. For example, more classic movies and less movies I've never heard of. And while I do enjoy a good conspiracy theory I could do without all the doomsday shows. I know that in years to come our planet will either combust or plunge into a deep freeze; get taken over by aliens, zombies, or mutant killer bugs; or get hit by an asteroid or meteor. I just don't need to watch it. Repeatedly.

And could someone in charge of programming please add The Addams Family? I'm talking about the TV show not the movies. Yes, I enjoyed the movie versions but I love the original black & white show.

Also, Dirty Dancing is on some such TV channel every other week so is it really necessary to have it available on Netflix for months on end? Does someone really say Damn! I missed Dirty Dancing for the 1,257th time while it was on TBS. Now I'll have to go watch it on Netflix? Yes, the movie was great and yes Jennifer Grey and Patrick Swayze (may he rest in peace) were great, but come on.

My diversity in movie viewing is almost like sour patch kid candies - sour and sweet. Sometimes I want to watch old, romantic favorites like  Sleepless in Seattle and sometimes I want to watch action-packed, excessive violence like, The Expendables. And sometimes I want to binge-watch all the James Bond movies because he was a sexy badass who drove cool cars and had great music. Netflix, this is a not-so-subtle hint to you.

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Writer's blah

You know how some writers sit at their computer or notebook and the words don't come? They read everything and anything and surf the Internet for inspiration while quietly glomming down pizza slices in an effort to break through their writer's block but to no avail. Yeah, that's not me.

I've been suffering from Writer's Blah. I have half written posts and pages in a notepad filled with blog topics but every time I attempted to post something I felt so meh and gave up. It's like when you're wearing your shabbiest undies and least favorite t-shirt and those jeans you spilled nail polish on because you haven't done laundry in a long-ass time so instead you plop down on the couch and play Candy Crush. Because doing laundry is so ugh.

Since I've been absent a lot has happened. My car has been given a bleak prognosis. Sleepy Hollow ended its season, which now leaves Monday nights open and boring. And Spock died. Christ, no wonder I've been laying low around here. No one wants to read depressive schlock.

On that note let's switch gears and talk about some happy, superficial, funny stuff.  Last week while driving around I came upon some cars with really cool bumper/window stickers. I followed one such car and snapped a quick pic with my phone. It's okay, we were both stopped at a traffic light.

We need 1.21 gigawatts and the flux capacitor!

I also saw a sticker on the back of another car that said: Fight the dead, Fear the living. Ya know, there's some truth to that one. Unfortunately I couldn't get a pic because the traffic lights and other drivers wouldn't cooperate.

Here's hoping that March is a better month filled with more snarky posts and less snow for those back East. And Shamrock Shakes for everyone!