FRANTASTIC
I lost a great mentor and friend last week. Her name is Fran Bascom. I'll always think of Fran as an "is" never a "was". I was shocked by the news. Not that she had passed. We all have an end game. Fran was 87 and probably wasn't going to be casting too many more pilots.
What shocked me was that it was reported that Fran died in her sleep. That was not the Fran I knew. I always thought that she would have passed at the Colony, the Odyssey, the Zephyr, or maybe at the Matrix. Never in her sleep. Why would Fran sleep? She had an equity waiver production of Balm and Gilead in Burbank that she needed to see.
I have wonderful memories of Fran. I have wonderful memories of Fran's hairstyle. Whenever she got her hair done, for the first three days she always looked like Paul Revere. She did.
I always thought that I had first met Fran when I started in casting. I later found out that she and daughter Cheryl used to live in a duplex on Camarillo. The same duplex that my best friend from junior high lived in. I had probably waved at Fran when I visited my ninth grade buddy. Never knowing how important she would become later in my life.
She helped me get my job as an online casting director for Columbia television. She had the office right next to mine. She was casting classy stuff like The First Olympics and a MOW on Robert Kennedy. I, on the other hand, was casting the critically acclaimed T.J. Hooker.
She would come into my office and show me an 8 by 10 of this actress she saw in a production of Much Ado About Nothing. She would say that I had to meet her. I would remind her that I was working on T.J. Hooker. That I had a better chance of finding someone right for my show by walking into the 80's equivalent of Hooters than attending Shakespeare in the Park. She would still insist that I meet her. She would say that I wouldn't be casting that fluff forever. That is how I met some wonderful actresses back then even though they weren't right for my co-ed skateboarding victim in my next episode.
Fran and I went to a few theater productions together. Once you committed to Fran you could never back away from that obligation. No matter what else came up. It would be like taking a donation back from Mother Teresa.
This is an example of what might have happened back then. I would get a call from a friend saying that he had just gotten two courtside seats to tonight's Laker game. He wanted me to join him. I mumbled something to him that he couldn't understand. He asked me again. Once more I mumbled. He was getting annoyed. Finally I blurted out, "I can't go to the game because I'm going with Fran Bascom to see The Owl and the Pussycat" in La Crescenta." No wonder people were rolling their eyes when I finally got married.
I mentioned the other day on facebook that Fran was the most supportive person ever to be in show business. That when she got in your corner there was not a better fighter for you on this planet. One of those folks that Fran was over the moon about was Jean Smart. She kept yelling at me to bring in Jean for T.J. Hooker. I would tell Fran that if she really cared about Jean's career she shouldn't be pushing for me to bring her in.
She felt so strongly about Jean, that if you were casting the Jackie Robinson Story, Fran would be adamant about you getting in Jean. Not for the role of Rachel Robinson, but for the role of Jackie Robinson. That was Fran.
Her casting career has not ended. Right now she is up in heaven with her agent buddy Dick Lovell. He is pitching his clients to play the saints in an upcoming pearly gate production. As usual, Fran is telling Dick who is right and who is wrong. She did that in a nice way as she always did.
I have always been asked as to what was the best thing about my 30 year casting career. I always respond that it was meeting my wife. My wife usually responds that the best part of her casting career was casting 21 Jump Street. If I had a #2 best thing that happened to me in casting, without a doubt it would be knowing Fran Bascom.
She was a Mom to many of us. The counseling. The encouragement. All natural tools for Fran. We supported our "Mom" when she tragically lost her daughter. We will support her again this Friday at her services. Fran would have been there but she is seeing a high school production of The Producers in Chatsworth.
Finally, if you looked up casting director in the dictionary it would read see Fran Bascom. RIP.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
I WISH I HAD AN EPIPHANY
About a month ago I had an episode. Not a regular season episode. One of those sweeps week's episodes. You know that special episode that is meant to garner bigger ratings. The one where the Big Bang's Sheldon has a dream that he meets Albert Einstein played by Dustin Hoffman. Mike and Molly guest on Biggest Losers. Steve Buscemi gets a make over. Those once a year episodes.
I had minor surgery on January 25th. Holy misnomer! There is no such thing as "minor surgery". Once the guy that used to sit next to you and cheat off your exam in biology class starts cutting - anything could happen.
There are certain words that should never be paired together. Like; subtle Michael Bolton. Tame cheetah. Coherent Sean Hannity. Minor surgery falls into that same category.
Anyway, the surgery went fine. Some repairs that needed to be taken care of. The staff at Cedars Sinai were up to their old tricks. Charging $95 for a Snickers bar. Asking you every five minutes for your Mother's maiden name. Plus, seeing if they could enlist your help in getting their Aunt out of the Philippines. Other than the bill for visitor parking, the stay at the hospital was uneventful.
Came home and everything was fine. I was able to mix pain meds with wine. Had an excuse to wear sweat pants every day. Watched Rick Steves in Belgium and still couldn't believe that he actually had a wife. Everything was fine.
Then it happened. The opening credits of the episode. It was the day after the Super Bowl and I was still wondering why Harbaugh didn't run the ball when he was at the three yard line when I noticed something that didn't seem quite right. Something red in color. Something red in color that should have stayed in my body. I was suffering blood loss.
It was about 8:00 at night and I felt like me except for the red donation I was making. I called my surgeon and he said if it got worse to go to the emergency room. Didn't want to do that. Couldn't miss this week's 'The Following'. I'll be ok."
Two hours later not so "ok". I passed out in the bathroom and hit my head. The wife saw me on the floor. She said that I was making about as much sense as a NRA official trying to justify magazine capacity on an assault rifle. She called the paramedics.
They were there almost immediately. My cat went up to them and said, "do something!" My first thought upon seeing the paramedics was that if I was still a casting director at least one of the paramedics would have been a latino or asian.
They asked me if I could get up and I said that I had low "t". They picked me up and put me on a gurney and rolled me outside. I was sure that a couple of the annoying neighbors that I had, were applauding. Wasn't positive, but was pretty sure.
In to the ambulance I went. Stuff started to be hooked up to me. At first I had the thoughts of "not now", "too soon", "I want to live" Then I glanced up at the inside of the roof of the ambulance and noticed a couple of the bulbs were flickering. On the one hand I wanted to say more oxygen and on the other hand I wanted to say can't you do something about that annoying "flickering".
We took off for the short ride to the emergency room. The oxygen was not giving me a high but I was becoming more stable. A lot of thoughts filled my brain. Not - I should have climbed Mount Everest. Or - If I hadn't have been so goofy maybe Madeline Stowe would have liked me more. My first thought was wondering whether my insurance was going to cover my ambulance ride and these four non-latino paramedics. I even thought that I didn't really need this to happen for me to know how much I love my wife. I already knew how much I loved my wife. I did think that I was letting my Grandmother down because I was not wearing the cleanest of underwear. She always said...
We arrive at the hospital and I am wheeled in. No one came running to the gurney yelling "stat". I found that comforting. No paddles were going to be used. Although there was this cute nurse where paddles could have come in handy.
My gurney came to a stop. The first words out of my mouth were, "Well, I guess now I have met my deductible." One of the oder nurses laughed as she played pin the tail on the IV with my left arm.
My surgeon showed up. This was great I thought. Then I pondered, "It was 10:30 at night. How many glasses of wine had he had?" Then I remembered that a drunken Denzel had landed a plane. My doc should be able to help me.
Everything calmed down. I was going to be around for a while. The wife came in and sweetly said, "You scared the hell out of me. Don't do that again. I could never find anyone like you. Someone that continually cuts me off and never lets me finish a sentence."
Two of my friends showed up. One came in and I told him that he was the Scarecrow and there were all these little people named munchkins. The surgeon then thought it best that I get some rest. I said that I hadn't gotten to the part about the ruby slippers.
I didn't sleep much that night but was well enough to be released that next mid morning. I wouldn't welcome the episode that I had just had on anybody. Maybe Ted Nugent. Nah, not even Ted. I wish that I could say that I had had a great epiphany. Something life changing. "You know, from now on..."
What I discovered is that I didn't need any of that kind of faux boost. My life was pretty damn good. I have the best wife in the world, a cat that sticks to me like Velcro, a Prius that is almost paid for, and wine and pain meds within arm's reach. Priceless.
I had minor surgery on January 25th. Holy misnomer! There is no such thing as "minor surgery". Once the guy that used to sit next to you and cheat off your exam in biology class starts cutting - anything could happen.
There are certain words that should never be paired together. Like; subtle Michael Bolton. Tame cheetah. Coherent Sean Hannity. Minor surgery falls into that same category.
Anyway, the surgery went fine. Some repairs that needed to be taken care of. The staff at Cedars Sinai were up to their old tricks. Charging $95 for a Snickers bar. Asking you every five minutes for your Mother's maiden name. Plus, seeing if they could enlist your help in getting their Aunt out of the Philippines. Other than the bill for visitor parking, the stay at the hospital was uneventful.
Came home and everything was fine. I was able to mix pain meds with wine. Had an excuse to wear sweat pants every day. Watched Rick Steves in Belgium and still couldn't believe that he actually had a wife. Everything was fine.
Then it happened. The opening credits of the episode. It was the day after the Super Bowl and I was still wondering why Harbaugh didn't run the ball when he was at the three yard line when I noticed something that didn't seem quite right. Something red in color. Something red in color that should have stayed in my body. I was suffering blood loss.
It was about 8:00 at night and I felt like me except for the red donation I was making. I called my surgeon and he said if it got worse to go to the emergency room. Didn't want to do that. Couldn't miss this week's 'The Following'. I'll be ok."
Two hours later not so "ok". I passed out in the bathroom and hit my head. The wife saw me on the floor. She said that I was making about as much sense as a NRA official trying to justify magazine capacity on an assault rifle. She called the paramedics.
They were there almost immediately. My cat went up to them and said, "do something!" My first thought upon seeing the paramedics was that if I was still a casting director at least one of the paramedics would have been a latino or asian.
They asked me if I could get up and I said that I had low "t". They picked me up and put me on a gurney and rolled me outside. I was sure that a couple of the annoying neighbors that I had, were applauding. Wasn't positive, but was pretty sure.
In to the ambulance I went. Stuff started to be hooked up to me. At first I had the thoughts of "not now", "too soon", "I want to live" Then I glanced up at the inside of the roof of the ambulance and noticed a couple of the bulbs were flickering. On the one hand I wanted to say more oxygen and on the other hand I wanted to say can't you do something about that annoying "flickering".
We took off for the short ride to the emergency room. The oxygen was not giving me a high but I was becoming more stable. A lot of thoughts filled my brain. Not - I should have climbed Mount Everest. Or - If I hadn't have been so goofy maybe Madeline Stowe would have liked me more. My first thought was wondering whether my insurance was going to cover my ambulance ride and these four non-latino paramedics. I even thought that I didn't really need this to happen for me to know how much I love my wife. I already knew how much I loved my wife. I did think that I was letting my Grandmother down because I was not wearing the cleanest of underwear. She always said...
We arrive at the hospital and I am wheeled in. No one came running to the gurney yelling "stat". I found that comforting. No paddles were going to be used. Although there was this cute nurse where paddles could have come in handy.
My gurney came to a stop. The first words out of my mouth were, "Well, I guess now I have met my deductible." One of the oder nurses laughed as she played pin the tail on the IV with my left arm.
My surgeon showed up. This was great I thought. Then I pondered, "It was 10:30 at night. How many glasses of wine had he had?" Then I remembered that a drunken Denzel had landed a plane. My doc should be able to help me.
Everything calmed down. I was going to be around for a while. The wife came in and sweetly said, "You scared the hell out of me. Don't do that again. I could never find anyone like you. Someone that continually cuts me off and never lets me finish a sentence."
Two of my friends showed up. One came in and I told him that he was the Scarecrow and there were all these little people named munchkins. The surgeon then thought it best that I get some rest. I said that I hadn't gotten to the part about the ruby slippers.
I didn't sleep much that night but was well enough to be released that next mid morning. I wouldn't welcome the episode that I had just had on anybody. Maybe Ted Nugent. Nah, not even Ted. I wish that I could say that I had had a great epiphany. Something life changing. "You know, from now on..."
What I discovered is that I didn't need any of that kind of faux boost. My life was pretty damn good. I have the best wife in the world, a cat that sticks to me like Velcro, a Prius that is almost paid for, and wine and pain meds within arm's reach. Priceless.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
POLL DANCING
Just a few more days and we won't have to be hearing Meat Loaf sing any more. Not that we were listening to him much these days anyway. As God intended; the election will be over on Tuesday night.
I definitely will be voting. I plan on taking my driver's license, my Von's card, and a former little league teammate with me to help verify that I am whom I am. I will be taking a cheat sheet with me to help me remember which way to vote on some of the propositions. This year I have actually done more due diligence. I don't need the L.A. Times to tell me which way to vote. I have a mind of my own. But, I do need that cheat sheet.
How about these silly propositions! "Yes means No." "More money for schools. Unless we find something else to do with the cash." "No more death row. Let them get killed by the regular prison inmates." "Keep big businesses from over-donating. Except the big businesses that are supporting this proposition." Yep, everything is clear to me.
Unemployment will definitely spike right after the election. Pundits and pollsters will be out of work. I expect to see Chris Matthews at the bottom of a freeway on ramp holding up a sign that reads, "Will Pundit For Food". Pollsters will no longer have anybody's attention as they babble on about swing states and the importance of the Jewish women's vote in Delaware.
Campaign advisors will lose their sense of importance and have to go back to picking up their own dry cleaning. John Sununu will continue to chew on steel wool and tell the neighborhood's kids to get off of his lawn, but at least he won't be on with Wolf Blitzer talking about lazy people from Kenya. David Axelrod will not worry about having a bad hair day. He will just have to accept the fact that every day is a bad hair day for him.
Most people believe that this election should be all about the economy. I would concur if I honestly believed that anybody really knew how to fix the economic mess that we are in. Here are a list of folks that I surmise don't have a clue as to how to properly deal with the monetary fiasco: Obama, Biden, Romney, Ryan, Bernanke, Greenspan, Geitner, Paulsen, Reich, Krugman, Krauthammer, Jim Cramer and Suze Orman.
Trickle down. The middle class. The haves. The have nots. One has to realize that our nation is run by a bunch of Gordon Gekkos. It always has been. From John D. Rockefeller to the Koch Brothers. It is just a lot harder to rise up to be a Gekko these days. That's the significant difference from years gone by.
So; I don't believe that the economy has the monopoly on importance this year. The deficit will not be fixed in the next four years. Don't expect any budgets to be balanced. Raising taxes and proposing cuts. I'm not hearing those words coming out of either of the candidates' mouths. Jobs will still continue to be outsourced. Hedge fund guys will still have third homes. Teachers will still be denied pay raises. Alex Trebek will still be hosting Jeopardy.
This election; women's rights, Supreme Court appointees, and healthcare are the issues that grab my attention. Of course I want Todd and Lou to get married. Haven't forgotten about those boys. Calm down. You too Brenda and Carol. I just needed to prioritize. That's all.
Tuesday's election is very important. Women will be paying close attention. Late Tuesday they will be either exhaling a sigh of relief or googling Guadalajara women's clinics. They will be either running corporations or getting coffee for their Mad Men bosses. Women should realize that you don't have to be a lesbian to keep a man out of your vagina. Women can vote. Tuesday's election is very important.
Tuesday's election is very important. It is inevitable that change will occur on the Supreme Court. The average age of the Supreme Court Justices is death. If Obama wins, folks will want Justice Scalia to build a home next to Mitt's in the Cayman Islands and enjoy retirement. If Romney wins, folks will be telling Justice Ginsburg that she could make more money being a judge on the X Factor. Tuesday's election is very important.
Tuesday's election is very important. Especially if you are having surgeries on every body part like I seem to be having lately. Obamacare is a step in the right direction for everybody. It's not perfect. Far from it. You still have to mortgage your home if you are having a root canal done. Plus, if you have kids, they might actually hang around the house until they are 26 just to keep their health insurance. Like I said, not perfect. Romney said on Day 1, I'm assuming in between inauguration parties, that he would repeal it. If it is repealed by the new regime be prepared to remain in the dreaded 47% for the rest of your life after paying for a couple of future MRI's. Tuesday's election is very important.
Despite the great divide in this country it is my hope after all the votes have been counted that our nation can once again be united. Republicans and Democrats can reach across the aisle and work together. More civility and less vitriol. Blah, blah, blah! Actually, what I really hope for, is that my guy wins and I can dance all over my misguided family members and facebook friends that I haven't deleted yet. I'm just sayin'...
I definitely will be voting. I plan on taking my driver's license, my Von's card, and a former little league teammate with me to help verify that I am whom I am. I will be taking a cheat sheet with me to help me remember which way to vote on some of the propositions. This year I have actually done more due diligence. I don't need the L.A. Times to tell me which way to vote. I have a mind of my own. But, I do need that cheat sheet.
How about these silly propositions! "Yes means No." "More money for schools. Unless we find something else to do with the cash." "No more death row. Let them get killed by the regular prison inmates." "Keep big businesses from over-donating. Except the big businesses that are supporting this proposition." Yep, everything is clear to me.
Unemployment will definitely spike right after the election. Pundits and pollsters will be out of work. I expect to see Chris Matthews at the bottom of a freeway on ramp holding up a sign that reads, "Will Pundit For Food". Pollsters will no longer have anybody's attention as they babble on about swing states and the importance of the Jewish women's vote in Delaware.
Campaign advisors will lose their sense of importance and have to go back to picking up their own dry cleaning. John Sununu will continue to chew on steel wool and tell the neighborhood's kids to get off of his lawn, but at least he won't be on with Wolf Blitzer talking about lazy people from Kenya. David Axelrod will not worry about having a bad hair day. He will just have to accept the fact that every day is a bad hair day for him.
Most people believe that this election should be all about the economy. I would concur if I honestly believed that anybody really knew how to fix the economic mess that we are in. Here are a list of folks that I surmise don't have a clue as to how to properly deal with the monetary fiasco: Obama, Biden, Romney, Ryan, Bernanke, Greenspan, Geitner, Paulsen, Reich, Krugman, Krauthammer, Jim Cramer and Suze Orman.
Trickle down. The middle class. The haves. The have nots. One has to realize that our nation is run by a bunch of Gordon Gekkos. It always has been. From John D. Rockefeller to the Koch Brothers. It is just a lot harder to rise up to be a Gekko these days. That's the significant difference from years gone by.
So; I don't believe that the economy has the monopoly on importance this year. The deficit will not be fixed in the next four years. Don't expect any budgets to be balanced. Raising taxes and proposing cuts. I'm not hearing those words coming out of either of the candidates' mouths. Jobs will still continue to be outsourced. Hedge fund guys will still have third homes. Teachers will still be denied pay raises. Alex Trebek will still be hosting Jeopardy.
This election; women's rights, Supreme Court appointees, and healthcare are the issues that grab my attention. Of course I want Todd and Lou to get married. Haven't forgotten about those boys. Calm down. You too Brenda and Carol. I just needed to prioritize. That's all.
Tuesday's election is very important. Women will be paying close attention. Late Tuesday they will be either exhaling a sigh of relief or googling Guadalajara women's clinics. They will be either running corporations or getting coffee for their Mad Men bosses. Women should realize that you don't have to be a lesbian to keep a man out of your vagina. Women can vote. Tuesday's election is very important.
Tuesday's election is very important. It is inevitable that change will occur on the Supreme Court. The average age of the Supreme Court Justices is death. If Obama wins, folks will want Justice Scalia to build a home next to Mitt's in the Cayman Islands and enjoy retirement. If Romney wins, folks will be telling Justice Ginsburg that she could make more money being a judge on the X Factor. Tuesday's election is very important.
Tuesday's election is very important. Especially if you are having surgeries on every body part like I seem to be having lately. Obamacare is a step in the right direction for everybody. It's not perfect. Far from it. You still have to mortgage your home if you are having a root canal done. Plus, if you have kids, they might actually hang around the house until they are 26 just to keep their health insurance. Like I said, not perfect. Romney said on Day 1, I'm assuming in between inauguration parties, that he would repeal it. If it is repealed by the new regime be prepared to remain in the dreaded 47% for the rest of your life after paying for a couple of future MRI's. Tuesday's election is very important.
Despite the great divide in this country it is my hope after all the votes have been counted that our nation can once again be united. Republicans and Democrats can reach across the aisle and work together. More civility and less vitriol. Blah, blah, blah! Actually, what I really hope for, is that my guy wins and I can dance all over my misguided family members and facebook friends that I haven't deleted yet. I'm just sayin'...
Friday, October 5, 2012
DOWN GOES FRAZIER! DOWN GOES FRAZIER!
You've all seen the videos of the parliamentary leaders in places like Assbackwardsstan jumping over podiums and slugging each other. On Tuesday I had one of those Borat-like moments. I have the red nose and bad back to prove it. More on the fisticuffs in a minute.
For those of you that have been reading my blogs you might remember one awhile back entitled, "Like A Good Neighbor". It dealt with the L.A. Department of Transportation, parking restrictions, and neighbors that find selfishness a virtue. Basically it concerned all the battles that the wife and I had with all of the above. New parking restrictions had been installed on our block that made it easier to park in front of an Iraqi embassy than in front of my house.
Even though the new signs were up, the wife and I were not done fighting the battles to bring justice back to our street. For those of you that don't know my wife - she makes Erin Brokovich look like a pussy.
We were finally able to get the Department of Transportation to at least say the word "oops" when it came to the handling of the parking fiasco. They, and they never do this, said because of all the "confusion" that we could re-file a new petition.
Good news on the one hand, but a daunting task nevertheless. We now had to get 2/3 of the households on the block to agree to changes. Oops was a start. Taking down the signs would have been better. We needed 18 households to jump on board.
We talked to a few of the neighbors that had been on our side before to see if this seemed like something we should pursue. We proceeded cautiously. At the beginning we were just opening the car door even though I wanted to get laid.
We were pleasantly surprised to find out that there was venom in the air. Hatred towards the new signs. That's all fine and dandy, but how do you get to 18. We began to fill up the petition. Most of the neighbors wanted to roll the restrictions back much further than what our petition stated but realized that his compromise would stand the best chance of going through.
We eventually had 16 signatures on our petition. Including 10 households that had signed the original petition. They had signed our new petition because they had been either bamboozled or simply despised the new East Berlin restrictions. But, unfortunately, 16 is not 18.
We knew that we were never going to get the signatures of the Selfish Six. We were shocked that 3 or 4 other homes wouldn't even listen. They felt "safer". They felt that now they could take their trash cans out without cars illegally parked in their driveway. No one has ever seen any illegally cars parked in their driveway, but why would reason come into play.
So; the wife and I sent out a memo thanking the 16 and saying we weren't giving up, but for now, we were at a standstill. We had tried our best.
The "whiny trash can guys" then decided that they wanted to have a meeting to bring the neighborhood back together. Like we were all having dinner with each other all the time. Please! The wife warned them that there were a lot of heated voices. Unless we are going to change the restrictions there is no point to the meeting. "No, let's all hold hands", said the whiny passive-aggressives.
So; a meeting was held this past Tuesday night. Both sides arrived with hair-triggers. There was forced civility at the start. If changes were not going to occur that night - our voices and bitching were definitely going to be heard.
The meeting started. A few eyebrows were raised by the Selfish Six when someone had the audacity to say that I would like to have a family member visit without having them park at the Von's about a mile away. Certainly not the worst thing in the world to be asking for.
Then one of the Selfish Six started speaking. He had not been brought up to speed and was spouting stuff that no longer applied. It was up to me to point that out to him. I explained to the Selfish Senior that things had changed due to the Dept. of Transportation and the "confusion".
Confusion was the word that pushed the button. The snakey original petitioner, in his uniform tank top, said there was no confusion and that the only confusion was caused by me and the wife. I responded in about as manly a tone as I could, "You're the one that lied." "Are you calling me a liar!", as he charged in my direction. "You lied to me", I barely got out.
Down Goes Frazier! Down Goes Frazier! Down Goes Frazier! He hit me right in the face sending me flying through a cheap wall. Now, I haven't had a fist fight since the third grade when that annoying Emily Rosenberg cleaned my clock. It took a bit to clear the cobwebs. The first words out of my mouth when I got up were, "Alex, I'll go to Bits and Pieces for $200." I then checked to see if I still had all of my teeth. I was shaken and marginally stirred.
The police were called. Nice folks. Not the ones that beat Rodney King. At the time I decided to not press charges. That might change. The meeting continued on sans Evander Hollyfield. Bickering and some common sense. Don't know how it happened but we got two more signatures. 18 - the holy grail. I hope the new signs are put up soon. I don't want to write another blog about this.
As my nose got redder and my back got sorer I felt empowered that I had taken one for the team.
The whole evening had been surreal. Idiotic and dangerous. Looking back on my first MMA experience, you know who I want to hit? Sadly, he is no longer with us. Mr. Rogers. Yeah, the guy in the sweater. That Mr. Rogers. A lovely day in the neighborhood, my ass!!!
For those of you that have been reading my blogs you might remember one awhile back entitled, "Like A Good Neighbor". It dealt with the L.A. Department of Transportation, parking restrictions, and neighbors that find selfishness a virtue. Basically it concerned all the battles that the wife and I had with all of the above. New parking restrictions had been installed on our block that made it easier to park in front of an Iraqi embassy than in front of my house.
Even though the new signs were up, the wife and I were not done fighting the battles to bring justice back to our street. For those of you that don't know my wife - she makes Erin Brokovich look like a pussy.
We were finally able to get the Department of Transportation to at least say the word "oops" when it came to the handling of the parking fiasco. They, and they never do this, said because of all the "confusion" that we could re-file a new petition.
Good news on the one hand, but a daunting task nevertheless. We now had to get 2/3 of the households on the block to agree to changes. Oops was a start. Taking down the signs would have been better. We needed 18 households to jump on board.
We talked to a few of the neighbors that had been on our side before to see if this seemed like something we should pursue. We proceeded cautiously. At the beginning we were just opening the car door even though I wanted to get laid.
We were pleasantly surprised to find out that there was venom in the air. Hatred towards the new signs. That's all fine and dandy, but how do you get to 18. We began to fill up the petition. Most of the neighbors wanted to roll the restrictions back much further than what our petition stated but realized that his compromise would stand the best chance of going through.
We eventually had 16 signatures on our petition. Including 10 households that had signed the original petition. They had signed our new petition because they had been either bamboozled or simply despised the new East Berlin restrictions. But, unfortunately, 16 is not 18.
We knew that we were never going to get the signatures of the Selfish Six. We were shocked that 3 or 4 other homes wouldn't even listen. They felt "safer". They felt that now they could take their trash cans out without cars illegally parked in their driveway. No one has ever seen any illegally cars parked in their driveway, but why would reason come into play.
So; the wife and I sent out a memo thanking the 16 and saying we weren't giving up, but for now, we were at a standstill. We had tried our best.
The "whiny trash can guys" then decided that they wanted to have a meeting to bring the neighborhood back together. Like we were all having dinner with each other all the time. Please! The wife warned them that there were a lot of heated voices. Unless we are going to change the restrictions there is no point to the meeting. "No, let's all hold hands", said the whiny passive-aggressives.
So; a meeting was held this past Tuesday night. Both sides arrived with hair-triggers. There was forced civility at the start. If changes were not going to occur that night - our voices and bitching were definitely going to be heard.
The meeting started. A few eyebrows were raised by the Selfish Six when someone had the audacity to say that I would like to have a family member visit without having them park at the Von's about a mile away. Certainly not the worst thing in the world to be asking for.
Then one of the Selfish Six started speaking. He had not been brought up to speed and was spouting stuff that no longer applied. It was up to me to point that out to him. I explained to the Selfish Senior that things had changed due to the Dept. of Transportation and the "confusion".
Confusion was the word that pushed the button. The snakey original petitioner, in his uniform tank top, said there was no confusion and that the only confusion was caused by me and the wife. I responded in about as manly a tone as I could, "You're the one that lied." "Are you calling me a liar!", as he charged in my direction. "You lied to me", I barely got out.
Down Goes Frazier! Down Goes Frazier! Down Goes Frazier! He hit me right in the face sending me flying through a cheap wall. Now, I haven't had a fist fight since the third grade when that annoying Emily Rosenberg cleaned my clock. It took a bit to clear the cobwebs. The first words out of my mouth when I got up were, "Alex, I'll go to Bits and Pieces for $200." I then checked to see if I still had all of my teeth. I was shaken and marginally stirred.
The police were called. Nice folks. Not the ones that beat Rodney King. At the time I decided to not press charges. That might change. The meeting continued on sans Evander Hollyfield. Bickering and some common sense. Don't know how it happened but we got two more signatures. 18 - the holy grail. I hope the new signs are put up soon. I don't want to write another blog about this.
As my nose got redder and my back got sorer I felt empowered that I had taken one for the team.
The whole evening had been surreal. Idiotic and dangerous. Looking back on my first MMA experience, you know who I want to hit? Sadly, he is no longer with us. Mr. Rogers. Yeah, the guy in the sweater. That Mr. Rogers. A lovely day in the neighborhood, my ass!!!
Friday, August 24, 2012
PRO CHOICE: TORONTO OR VANCOUVER
I never thought that I would ever hear a candidate running for the United State Senate say out loud, "that sperm don't hunt!" Which is approximately what Missouri Congressman Todd Akin said when describing what happens when a woman is "legitimately" raped. He said that he got that "well-documented" biological information from a couple of magazine articles. Maybe it was from a blog. Perhaps he saw it on the wall of the men's room at his local lodge. My guess is he heard it at a Hank Williams Jr. concert.
The Congressman was talking about rape in regards to the abortion issue. He doesn't believe that there should be any exception when it comes to abortion. I hate the premise of that whole debate. Abortion is not about exceptions. That narrows the discussion. It is about a woman's right to choose. Lately people talk about the life of the mother, incest, and rape. I want some woman to stand up and say, "It's not just about those instances. I had a pitcher of margaritas last night and allowed Tony to get further than first base. Thank God I had my morning after pill."
Oh well, who really cares about this guy in Missouri anyway. Let the folks under the golden arch work this out in their own state. Nobody in their right mind would align themselves with this guy's wacky ideology anyway. Nobody except the Republican Vice-Presidential candidate Paul Ryan. Together Ryan and Akin co-sponsored a bill that deems that personhood begins at conception. Whatever. I happen to think that there is a difference between egg salad and fried chicken but apparently they don't. They happen to believe that an embryo could go on Jeopardy and do rather well. "I'll go to Zygotes for $200."
Paul Ryan said that the term "legitimate" rape used by Congressman Akin was ridiculous. Less ridiculous to Ryan was the term "forcible" rape which he had in his co-sponsored bill. That terminology was eventually deleted. From the bill. Not from the brain of Paul Ryan.
Playing the good soldier, Ryan said that for the most part he agreed with Mitt Romney on abortion. Romney believes (well, at least today he believes) that in cases of rape and incest there can be abortions. Ryan said that Romney's position was a "step in the right direction". Ryan basically believes that there are no exceptions when it comes to abortion. He also doesn't approve of tongues being used between a man and a woman. He thinks tongues are icky.
So; where are these steps in the right direction going? If I was a woman I'd be leafing through travel brochures for Toronto and Vancouver. That's where the ladies will have to go to have an abortion in the near future if the Republicans have their way. I know arroz con pollo is better than Canadian bacon, but you don't really want to go to Mexico and have some ill-equipped clinic go South of the Border on you. You know, it is one thing for Kobe Bryant to go to Germany to have work done on his knee - it is another thing entirely for your 15 year old daughter having to travel to the land of Dudley Do Right to terminate an unwanted pregnancy. What the hell is happening in this country!
Once again we need to hear more from younger women. A little more outrage please. Today it seems that if you ask some sorority co-ed named Heather what she thinks of Roe vs Wade, she will respond, "I don't follow tennis that much, but I think that Maria Sharapova has great skin." Somebody should write a sequel to the Vagina Monologues and call it the Clitoris Chronicles. Women that had to have abortions in the past should recount their stories of wire hangers and back alleys. School the black-nail polish generation. Create an uprising.
Todd Akin's comments were beyond contempt. Unfortunately they are not as far enough away from the mainstream as you might think. When all the furor dies down it wouldn't surprise me one bit if Akin got elected. If he loses he'll probably get a gig doing commercials for Cialis. My guess is that his sperm hasn't hunted in years.
The Congressman was talking about rape in regards to the abortion issue. He doesn't believe that there should be any exception when it comes to abortion. I hate the premise of that whole debate. Abortion is not about exceptions. That narrows the discussion. It is about a woman's right to choose. Lately people talk about the life of the mother, incest, and rape. I want some woman to stand up and say, "It's not just about those instances. I had a pitcher of margaritas last night and allowed Tony to get further than first base. Thank God I had my morning after pill."
Oh well, who really cares about this guy in Missouri anyway. Let the folks under the golden arch work this out in their own state. Nobody in their right mind would align themselves with this guy's wacky ideology anyway. Nobody except the Republican Vice-Presidential candidate Paul Ryan. Together Ryan and Akin co-sponsored a bill that deems that personhood begins at conception. Whatever. I happen to think that there is a difference between egg salad and fried chicken but apparently they don't. They happen to believe that an embryo could go on Jeopardy and do rather well. "I'll go to Zygotes for $200."
Paul Ryan said that the term "legitimate" rape used by Congressman Akin was ridiculous. Less ridiculous to Ryan was the term "forcible" rape which he had in his co-sponsored bill. That terminology was eventually deleted. From the bill. Not from the brain of Paul Ryan.
Playing the good soldier, Ryan said that for the most part he agreed with Mitt Romney on abortion. Romney believes (well, at least today he believes) that in cases of rape and incest there can be abortions. Ryan said that Romney's position was a "step in the right direction". Ryan basically believes that there are no exceptions when it comes to abortion. He also doesn't approve of tongues being used between a man and a woman. He thinks tongues are icky.
So; where are these steps in the right direction going? If I was a woman I'd be leafing through travel brochures for Toronto and Vancouver. That's where the ladies will have to go to have an abortion in the near future if the Republicans have their way. I know arroz con pollo is better than Canadian bacon, but you don't really want to go to Mexico and have some ill-equipped clinic go South of the Border on you. You know, it is one thing for Kobe Bryant to go to Germany to have work done on his knee - it is another thing entirely for your 15 year old daughter having to travel to the land of Dudley Do Right to terminate an unwanted pregnancy. What the hell is happening in this country!
Once again we need to hear more from younger women. A little more outrage please. Today it seems that if you ask some sorority co-ed named Heather what she thinks of Roe vs Wade, she will respond, "I don't follow tennis that much, but I think that Maria Sharapova has great skin." Somebody should write a sequel to the Vagina Monologues and call it the Clitoris Chronicles. Women that had to have abortions in the past should recount their stories of wire hangers and back alleys. School the black-nail polish generation. Create an uprising.
Todd Akin's comments were beyond contempt. Unfortunately they are not as far enough away from the mainstream as you might think. When all the furor dies down it wouldn't surprise me one bit if Akin got elected. If he loses he'll probably get a gig doing commercials for Cialis. My guess is that his sperm hasn't hunted in years.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
GOOD EVENING MR. PHELPS
SPOILER ALERT: Really enjoyed the Olympics Games closing ceremonies. The way the athletes all came together. The tanking badminton players and the failed dope testers. The corrupt boxing officials and the legally blind soccer referees. I thought that it was cute watching all the female swimmers swim away from LeBron James. I was a little concerned when security had to tackle Sir Paul McCartney after he ran onto the track. Sir Paul had grabbed a microphone and wanted to lead all the fans in another rousing rendition of "Hey Jude". "Hey Jude" again!!! Really!!! The evening closed with Lady Gaga doing her rendition of Peter Allen's song "I Go To Rio" to celebrate the 2016 Olympics. It was quite a visual treat.
Wait a minute. You thought that the Olympics were closing up this weekend. Oh no, the games ended last night. NBC will show you those closing ceremonies on Sunday.
How about that NBC coverage? Dan Quayle was no Jack Kennedy and Bob Costas is no Jim McKay. "Why show events live when we can tape them and show them at 11:55 at night."
Hey NBC, it's not 1984. There's this little thing called the internet. We have cell phones. You cannot watch anything on television including House Hunters International without a crawl at the bottom of the screen telling you that some Bulgarian just won the discus. Everybody knew that Usain Bolt had won the 100 meter dash before finishing their cobb salad at lunch. Even the freakin' sequestered contestants on Big Brother knew that Michael Phelps had just won another gold before NBC aired it.
I used to love Mary Carillo. Now, not so much. I don't know about you, but when I tune in to watch the Olympics I'd like to see...the Olympics. Not stories on bagpipes, James Bond, and Greenwich. Mary went Rick Steves on us. Drove me nuts. Bob Costas would say to her, "the marathon runners will have to face that large hill." Mary would reply, "speaking of a large hill - Benny Hill was Great Britain's most beloved comedian." Then every viewer would lose twelve minutes of their lives that they would never get back.
I don't know about you but I will never watch that new NBC show with Matthew Perry. In the middle of the 10,000 meter final they cut to the ex-Friends star's over-mugging face. In the middle of a young swimmer going for gold they cut to a "comedic therapy session" with Perry. Not watching that new show with the Dads and their babies either.
It seemed like the airing of women's gymnastics never ended. There's the team competition. The individual competition. The individual event competition. The crying competition. Ok, I'm going to say it. The elephant in the room. Those tiny little girls seem to be genetically altered. Except for Gabby, they all look like that little annoying kid on that show the Middle.
Now, I enjoy seeing women in underwear as much as any other man. But, how many hours of beach volleyball can they show. Sure the Spain's woman beach volleyball player has one of the greatest asses of all time, but I'd like to see one javelin go through the air at least once.
China was leading the medal count. I think NBC showed only two Chinese gold medal victories. It was much more important to talk about the American that finished seventh. The only time that NBC talked about an athlete that wasn't from the USA - that athlete had no legs. That's a high price to pay for getting airtime.
The Olympics that I grew up with were all about track and field, swimming, gymnastics, boxing, and hating Russia. Now it is about Kobe, women playing at the beach in lingerie, and NBC promoting a show that looks like a pale imitation of Modern Family. Yes, the ratings were high. Yes, we got to see many athletes perform at a high level. But for me, NBC's coverage put a damper on this year's Olympic experience. "The thrill of victory and the agony of Ryan Seacrest."
Wait a minute. You thought that the Olympics were closing up this weekend. Oh no, the games ended last night. NBC will show you those closing ceremonies on Sunday.
How about that NBC coverage? Dan Quayle was no Jack Kennedy and Bob Costas is no Jim McKay. "Why show events live when we can tape them and show them at 11:55 at night."
Hey NBC, it's not 1984. There's this little thing called the internet. We have cell phones. You cannot watch anything on television including House Hunters International without a crawl at the bottom of the screen telling you that some Bulgarian just won the discus. Everybody knew that Usain Bolt had won the 100 meter dash before finishing their cobb salad at lunch. Even the freakin' sequestered contestants on Big Brother knew that Michael Phelps had just won another gold before NBC aired it.
I used to love Mary Carillo. Now, not so much. I don't know about you, but when I tune in to watch the Olympics I'd like to see...the Olympics. Not stories on bagpipes, James Bond, and Greenwich. Mary went Rick Steves on us. Drove me nuts. Bob Costas would say to her, "the marathon runners will have to face that large hill." Mary would reply, "speaking of a large hill - Benny Hill was Great Britain's most beloved comedian." Then every viewer would lose twelve minutes of their lives that they would never get back.
I don't know about you but I will never watch that new NBC show with Matthew Perry. In the middle of the 10,000 meter final they cut to the ex-Friends star's over-mugging face. In the middle of a young swimmer going for gold they cut to a "comedic therapy session" with Perry. Not watching that new show with the Dads and their babies either.
It seemed like the airing of women's gymnastics never ended. There's the team competition. The individual competition. The individual event competition. The crying competition. Ok, I'm going to say it. The elephant in the room. Those tiny little girls seem to be genetically altered. Except for Gabby, they all look like that little annoying kid on that show the Middle.
Now, I enjoy seeing women in underwear as much as any other man. But, how many hours of beach volleyball can they show. Sure the Spain's woman beach volleyball player has one of the greatest asses of all time, but I'd like to see one javelin go through the air at least once.
China was leading the medal count. I think NBC showed only two Chinese gold medal victories. It was much more important to talk about the American that finished seventh. The only time that NBC talked about an athlete that wasn't from the USA - that athlete had no legs. That's a high price to pay for getting airtime.
The Olympics that I grew up with were all about track and field, swimming, gymnastics, boxing, and hating Russia. Now it is about Kobe, women playing at the beach in lingerie, and NBC promoting a show that looks like a pale imitation of Modern Family. Yes, the ratings were high. Yes, we got to see many athletes perform at a high level. But for me, NBC's coverage put a damper on this year's Olympic experience. "The thrill of victory and the agony of Ryan Seacrest."
Thursday, August 2, 2012
CHICK-FIL-A-NUTS
Why is it that the CEO who opens his big mouth and creates controversy, always works for something that consumers want? You never hear, "All show tunes should be banned!", from the President of the Colonoscopy Foundation. You never hear, "Women should have the right to choose their shoes and nothing else", from the head of the California Prune Association.
It's the bosses at Coors, Whole Foods, Amazon.com, Vegas casinos, and now Chick-Fil-A that seem to be doing all the spewing. I believe that everybody, with the exception of Kirk Cameron, has the right to say whatever he or she believes in. However; there can be consequences to opinion. Since there isn't any middle any more, people on both ends of the spectrum tend to get riled up. One shouldn't have to weigh what one says but that is not the world that we live in.
I don't believe in ridding the nation of all Chick-Fil-A establishments because of the words of its President Dan Cathy. In case you hadn't heard Mr. Cathy believes that, according to the bible, you can never wear pajamas that had been once worn by a gay man. As long as Nathan Lane can order waffle potato fries and Cynthia Nixon can apply for a job as a server at Chick-Fil-A, the head in the sand Mr. Cathy, can stay open for business. Instead of pickets and righteous indignation I believe that what should happen to Mr. Cathy is that he should be a guest on a re-vamped version of "Queer Eye For The Straight Guy". Let Carson Kressley teach him a few things. Snap! Snap!
What is wrong with Ellen DeGeneres, the friendly lesbian talk show host, doing ads for J.C. Penney? The outcry over her being a spokesperson for the chain was insane. Folks treated J.C. Penney like they had been Hertz hiring O.J. Simpson back to run through airports again. What a waste of energy? Besides, does anybody really believe that Ellen shops at J.C. Penney. Come on.
The wife won't shop at Whole Foods. I thought that the reason she didn't shop there was that she didn't have a coupon for sprouts. Wrong. It seems that its CEO John Mackey isn't a big fan of national healthcare. He wants to keep the government out of bed pans. Let people fend for themselves. He believes in giving tax breaks to volunteers that are willing to give a donation to someone that doesn't have insurance. When was the last time you got a knock on your door from a volunteer willing to pay your bill at Cedars?
People are upset with Jeff Bezos. He is Amazon.com's big honcho. It seems, close your ears, that he gave 2.5 million dollars to the save same sex marriage campaign. Can you imagine. What do we do now? Does this mean I might have to leave my house to buy something. No, I say. Just because some CEO does some "wacky" thing with his money doesn't mean I have to start paying sales tax.
What about the Coors family? Proud American brewers. It seems like that family doesn't have a history of being African-American friendly. William Coors had quite an opinion about Jesse Jackson and others. God forbid that a minority would dare voice a complaint about the USA. Mr. Coors said, "You don't see Jesse Jackson, or any other of these blacks making any mass exodus back to Africa, do you?" I guess I'm not ordering that second pitcher.
How about Sheldon Adelson? Newt Gingrich's pimp. He owns the Venetian in Vegas. I am not giving up my right to swim in the "European pool" just because of Sheldon's right wing leanings. I need to see breasts that aren't mine. So what if he owns the Republican Party; at least he doesn't have Celine Dionne headlining.
You wonder if some of the products and their spokespersons of the past would have held up under the scrutiny of today's multitudes of social networks. Col. Sanders probably enjoyed cockfighting. Orville Redenbacher probably wore women's clothes. Betty Crocker was a lesbian that had had a long term relationship with Hilda the vice president of daytime programming at CBS.
Where do you draw the line when it comes to boycotting? Should it also include the arts. Sean Penn played checkers with Hugo Chavez. Do you now have to change the channel every time that Fast Times at Ridgemont High comes on. Jon Voight recently wrote about Pres Obama, "Your destruction of the country may never be remedied, and we may never recover." That quote affects not only his movies but his daughter Angelina Jolie's movies as well. Ok, being a man of strong conviction, I will never watch The Tourist again. Brad Pitt gets a pass. We all have in-law issues. What about viewing a Disney film? Walt was anti-union and would have labeled anybody that gave Mary Poppins a bad review as a Communist.
We live in a nation where CEO's say the darndest things. We live in a nation where actors and artists say the darndest things. If we paid attention to everything that every CEO says, we might not buy anything. If we paid attention to everything that every actor said we wouldn't see anything. You have to let some of it slide. Otherwise you will never eat a chicken sandwich, drink a beer, buy a book, visit Disneyland, or take the kids to the "back to school sale" at J.C. Penney.
I live by this one motto when it comes to all of this: Let me see breasts at the Venetian and I promise to never watch reruns of Growing Pains ever again.
It's the bosses at Coors, Whole Foods, Amazon.com, Vegas casinos, and now Chick-Fil-A that seem to be doing all the spewing. I believe that everybody, with the exception of Kirk Cameron, has the right to say whatever he or she believes in. However; there can be consequences to opinion. Since there isn't any middle any more, people on both ends of the spectrum tend to get riled up. One shouldn't have to weigh what one says but that is not the world that we live in.
I don't believe in ridding the nation of all Chick-Fil-A establishments because of the words of its President Dan Cathy. In case you hadn't heard Mr. Cathy believes that, according to the bible, you can never wear pajamas that had been once worn by a gay man. As long as Nathan Lane can order waffle potato fries and Cynthia Nixon can apply for a job as a server at Chick-Fil-A, the head in the sand Mr. Cathy, can stay open for business. Instead of pickets and righteous indignation I believe that what should happen to Mr. Cathy is that he should be a guest on a re-vamped version of "Queer Eye For The Straight Guy". Let Carson Kressley teach him a few things. Snap! Snap!
What is wrong with Ellen DeGeneres, the friendly lesbian talk show host, doing ads for J.C. Penney? The outcry over her being a spokesperson for the chain was insane. Folks treated J.C. Penney like they had been Hertz hiring O.J. Simpson back to run through airports again. What a waste of energy? Besides, does anybody really believe that Ellen shops at J.C. Penney. Come on.
The wife won't shop at Whole Foods. I thought that the reason she didn't shop there was that she didn't have a coupon for sprouts. Wrong. It seems that its CEO John Mackey isn't a big fan of national healthcare. He wants to keep the government out of bed pans. Let people fend for themselves. He believes in giving tax breaks to volunteers that are willing to give a donation to someone that doesn't have insurance. When was the last time you got a knock on your door from a volunteer willing to pay your bill at Cedars?
People are upset with Jeff Bezos. He is Amazon.com's big honcho. It seems, close your ears, that he gave 2.5 million dollars to the save same sex marriage campaign. Can you imagine. What do we do now? Does this mean I might have to leave my house to buy something. No, I say. Just because some CEO does some "wacky" thing with his money doesn't mean I have to start paying sales tax.
What about the Coors family? Proud American brewers. It seems like that family doesn't have a history of being African-American friendly. William Coors had quite an opinion about Jesse Jackson and others. God forbid that a minority would dare voice a complaint about the USA. Mr. Coors said, "You don't see Jesse Jackson, or any other of these blacks making any mass exodus back to Africa, do you?" I guess I'm not ordering that second pitcher.
How about Sheldon Adelson? Newt Gingrich's pimp. He owns the Venetian in Vegas. I am not giving up my right to swim in the "European pool" just because of Sheldon's right wing leanings. I need to see breasts that aren't mine. So what if he owns the Republican Party; at least he doesn't have Celine Dionne headlining.
You wonder if some of the products and their spokespersons of the past would have held up under the scrutiny of today's multitudes of social networks. Col. Sanders probably enjoyed cockfighting. Orville Redenbacher probably wore women's clothes. Betty Crocker was a lesbian that had had a long term relationship with Hilda the vice president of daytime programming at CBS.
Where do you draw the line when it comes to boycotting? Should it also include the arts. Sean Penn played checkers with Hugo Chavez. Do you now have to change the channel every time that Fast Times at Ridgemont High comes on. Jon Voight recently wrote about Pres Obama, "Your destruction of the country may never be remedied, and we may never recover." That quote affects not only his movies but his daughter Angelina Jolie's movies as well. Ok, being a man of strong conviction, I will never watch The Tourist again. Brad Pitt gets a pass. We all have in-law issues. What about viewing a Disney film? Walt was anti-union and would have labeled anybody that gave Mary Poppins a bad review as a Communist.
We live in a nation where CEO's say the darndest things. We live in a nation where actors and artists say the darndest things. If we paid attention to everything that every CEO says, we might not buy anything. If we paid attention to everything that every actor said we wouldn't see anything. You have to let some of it slide. Otherwise you will never eat a chicken sandwich, drink a beer, buy a book, visit Disneyland, or take the kids to the "back to school sale" at J.C. Penney.
I live by this one motto when it comes to all of this: Let me see breasts at the Venetian and I promise to never watch reruns of Growing Pains ever again.
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