Zoe and Vincent passed on to me their most recent illness. It's just a head cold. On the plus side, I woke up this morning able to sing like Barry White. The negative- I'll spend the morning speaking like Bea Arthur.
The day before thanksgiving used to mean a lot to me. It was the biggest club night in Detroit, the last hurrah before 24 hours with family. Now, it's a big day at work and by 4pm I'm having cocktails at the Fairmont. After leaving the F-mont pretty well loaded (Thanks, Miguel!!) I stumbled thru the neighboring park and ran across an old friend from Detroit, Christine. She and her husband, personal icon Art Lyzak, have moved to SF and now live two blocks from my work and 5 from my place. I babbled for half an hour and we've agreed to get together after the first of the year.
Glad I stopped to talk to her, it gave me some time to sober up before driving down to LJR's casa in the hills of Redwood City. As I've said many times before, going down there is like staying at the best B&B in the world. Comfortable couch, pink blanket, unlimited cable, 24 hour wine service . . . what's not to like?
We spent the day watching movies and prepping for the Tukey dinner. Her tradition is to watch Rosemary's Baby, so we did. We also watched Arthur, a movie to which she knows EVERY SINGLE LINE OF DIALOGUE, I KID YOU NOT!! I, sad to say, had never seen either. I'm not sure how funny Arthur is on it's own, but having her act it out with it was hilarious and I had a great time.
Along with the two of us, her boyfriend Wil, her ex-Jim, and her daughter Nicola were joined by Luke, KC, and the little ones. Much to the delight of everyone, Vincent was wearing his Elvis costume, a gift from LJR. Zoe was in a lovely dress that came back from China with her 2 years ago and together they ran back and forth in the house, an act made all the more dramatic and funny because of the Elvis suit's cape.
LJR prepared a fine meal (complete with green bean casserole), we all stuffed ourselves then sat around enjoying each other's company until sated, then we went and found our respective homes.
Mr. George Whipple is a fictional supermarket manager featured in television advertisements that ran in the United States and Canada from 1965 to 1989 for Charmin toilet paper. In unvarying repetition, he scolds customers (who were mostly women in those days) who "squeeze the Charmin," while hypocritically entertaining such actions himself when he thinks no one will notice.
The very first commercial sets the tone. He is seen looking off camera at a female customer, commenting that first she's squeezing the grapefruits, then she's squeezing the melons, and then (in a classic comic "triple") when she gets to the Charmin, that's the last straw, and he walks over to her and utters his famous plea for the first time.
In the late seventies and early eighties, a competitor named Hoffmeyer came along, who encouraged his customers to squeeze the Charmin, and scolded Whipple on his hypocrisy.
By the late 1980s, Mr. Whipple was encouraging customers who weren't buying Charmin to squeeze it. One commercial had him use a fishing rod to put it in a skeptic's cart.
He was played by actor Dick Wilson, a character actor who had played a recurring role on the television series Bewitched. A new series of Charmin commercials featuring him was filmed in 1999, with the new slogan, "Is Mr. Whipple watching?".
Detroit has just been named "most dangerous city in America". I vaguely remember a Bill Bonds editorial when Detroit was named the "Murder Capital" back in the early '80s. "Perhaps Detroiters aren't any more violent than people anywhere else . . . maybe we're just better shots."
. . . along comes something on the internet that really entertains. The site New and Improved Stereotypes (to teach your kids)is pretty damned funny. My fav? "Indians lose their nipples every full moon. On the bright side, when they reappear, they smell exactly like fresh baked sugar cookies."