Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Not the Tuesday Two or Friday Five, but the Saturday Six

I have always thought of Oprah and Dr. Phil as my TV parents. Well, maybe not parents exactly, since Oprah only accepts unconditional love and she's always got to be right and Dr. Phil is the master of intimidation and he's always got to be right, too. Plus both of them are self absorbed to the point of distraction -- mine.

But it was with great sadness that I read about their growing tiff. Awww. Not Oprah and the good doc. Finally there are cracks and their fine-tuned personas. Sounds like Dr. Phil is biting the hand that feeds him and starting to behave, shall we say, inappropriately? Making disparaging remarks about how much money Oprah takes out of his show -- now that he's so BIG. And calling her fiftieth birthday party self-indulgent. Ooo, the pot calling the kettle, uh, black. 

I guess Oprah hasn't been coming up to the house for any of Robin and Dr. Phil's get togethers lately either. I smell SMACKDOWN!!! They could take a lesson from The Donald and Martha. That one got smoothed over faster than you can say home monitoring bracelet.

Here's the Six. You can link over there in Other Journals to Patrick's Place if you want to play, because I'm too damn lazy to make a link here. Or just steal my Six, the way I stole La Vida Mommy's [yeah she's in Other Journals, also.] I almost posted her answers too.  That would have been interesting.

1. If you could trade places with one person in your family for a week, who would you choose? And would you want to trade as they are now, or sometime in the past (or future)?

I'd swap with either one of my daughters right now. For reasons too numerous to mention. But you could start with YOUNG. Add beautiful. Throw in smart. Funny. Hey, they're MY daughters..

2. READER'S CHOICE QUESTION #80 from De: What were you doing 1 year ago this month, and are you more or less satisfied with your life today?

I was doing what I always do in March, agonizing over my taxes in an avoidance kinda way. I guess I'm more or less satisfied with my life today. Sometimes more.  Sometimes less.

3. READER'S CHOICE QUESTION #81 from Lisa: Do you prefer watching television over surfing the internet?

What's to prefer?  I do both at the same time. There's a TV next to my computer.  Sometimes I'm on the phone too. I have learned how to read the closed captioning while Italk. Try it sometime. 

4. READER'S CHOICE QUESTION #82 from Antonette: Outside of the U.S., where would you live and why?

I'd move to London. Because if I did, it would mean I was rich that's why.

5. READER'S CHOICE QUESTION #83 from Elton: When you leave your home, do you ever feel paranoid that you've left something behind?

I never feel paranoid -- actually, shouldn't it be anxious -- because I know I will always leave something behind. It's just a matter of what. I once left my driveway, drove to the end of the street, remembered something I forgot, drove around the block back into my driveway, retrieved the forgotten item, left my driveway, drove to the end of the street, remembered something else I forgot, and so on until I had circled around three times. If I get farther than the end of the street, I just stop and buy whatever it is I don't have. Or I go to the meeting and say, "I forgot the entire presentation. Is that a problem?"

6. READER'S CHOICE QUESTION #84 from Laura: What song or songs would you want played at your own funeral and why?

A friend of mine and I drove to his summer home a few years ago to open it up for the year. After years of being a superjock he was on a heart transplant list thanks to a misdiagnosis. Sitting on the porch in the evening listening to the sounds of the woods around us, he began to talk about dying, since that was one of his options.  So I said let's plan your funeral. It seemed like a good idea at the time. To get him started, I told him I always wanted to have the Edwin Hawkins singers come and perform their arrangement of Oh Happy Day, which is one of my favorite gospel songs. I wanted the whole service to be rousing with everybody up and clapping. No sorrowful hymns for me, please. Okay, trying to get white people to clap and sing gospel in the suburban Episcopal church I grew up in might be a little difficult, but it would be worth a try. The best thing is that, ultimately, my friend didn't have to plan for a funeral after all, since he lived long enough to get a new heart. But I remind him from time to time not to forget what I want played at my funeral.


screaminremo303 said...

C'mon. You recognize this for what it is, right? They'll be reunited on Letterman, singing the Neville/Ronstadt version of "All I need to know." They'll announce their co-candidacy for U.S. President after the commercial break.

They'll lose to Hillary by 20 points.

thisismary said...

Plan your own funeral? Hell (oops!  I mean shoot!) Write your own obituary first!  Have you read Obits lately?   Daughter of ...  mother of ...    sang in the choir of ...   No preferred dandelions to orchids, no would have driven a checker cab instead of the Benz, except for her serious issues with step and repeat patterns so overdone in the seventies ...

Oddly -- or not so, lately, I have been thinking about writing a journal entry about writing my own death notice just to ensure that my survivors get it right, not that I am a control freak or anything.  Mirrored Disco ball in the coffin, over the top you think?  Yah me too.  If they don't do it -- I am going to haunt them anyway.

bosoxblue6993w said...

paranoid?    most americans, i'm afraid, are paranoid ... forever suspicious that someone, somwhere, out there may be having a better time than they are.

jevanslink said...

Likw you for instance.  Mrs. l

mombzbe said...

I had no idea Oprah and the good Dr were nearing a feud.  Now, there's a reality show that would make afternoon tv interesting.  Sandwiched amongst the fake soap operas, a real one. lol
Next time I do the Six, I'll think of you.

sunnyside46 said...

the only problem with songs at funerals is that I never want to hear a song again after I hear it at a funeral.