Tag Archives: entertainment

Tuesday Morning Press 18 — Achievement Vs. Recognition


One of my favorite moments in the film, “A Beautiful Mind” was when the Judd Hirsch character Dr. Helinger (who was the department chair at Princeton where Russell Crowe’s character, the protagonist John Nash), took an agitated and confused doctoral candidate Nash to the mathematics department tea room at the university.

In the hallway just at the entry to the tea room, Helinger and Nash discussed Nash’s lack of work, which resulted in threatening his PhD candidacy as well as his appointment to a coveted position at the prestigious Wheeler Institute at MIT after attaining said PhD.

Helinger interrupted Nash’s clucking and excuses and barters for more time and he tersely instructed him to look at a gentleman, presumably a senior mathematics professor of some countenance sitting alone at a table covered by a draping ecru linen tablecloth in this gorgeous room of soaring coffered ceilings, wrought iron glass windows, Norman moldings, and cherrywood walls.

What they were witnessing was “the ceremony of the pens” which I just learned this very second upon researching it that it was completely fictitious. Well… that sort of blows the moment, doesn’t it?

ANYWAY, in the now-discovered fictitious moment (despite its significance to me and this post — this revelation is totally killing my buzz on the movie, by the way), the ceremony was to make big noise deal to smart someone teacher long time who’d done has math real good at college the.

Shit, I don’t even feel like writing well anymore.

What the what?! Really? Resist urge to edit and start all over. This is not what I do… I write IN the moment.

Excuse me a moment. Please hit play:

ONWARD… there is a point to all this: Nash is frantic, begging for more time; Helinger essentially says shut up and watch the now entirely fictitious frigging ceremony of the #)(%@_! pens.

When the fictitious ceremony was over, Helinger immediately asked Nash what he saw. Nash supposedly blurted reflexively, “recognition.”

Helinger supposedly corrected him and firmly said, supposedly thrusting his fake right fist, “No. Achievement.”

Hell, I don’t know what to believe. Curse you, director Ron Howard! I do know that Hirsch did thrust his fist for emphasis at the Nash character in that building when the cameras were rolling to show a moment of truth whilst witnessing a completely made-up ceremony at an Ivy-League university.

On Mars.

The point is, as it doesn’t matter what I’ve researched since starting this post (honestly, I was just trying to get the name of the Hirsch character and to learn the real name for the fake ceremony of the pens), is that achievement is more important than recognition.

Because Judd Hirsch said so.

This brings me to my current moment of self-actualization (and  the post would’ve been a lot shorter had the entire ceremony not been made up…I’m letting this go…NnnnnnNnN).

My point: yes. Achievement matters more than recognition. Recognition is a construct of the ego; it requires outside validation and external gratification and it will hardly ever be enough; it’s constant and never ending. Think Madonna. Think Schwarzenegger and Stallone at the Golden Globes:

Screen Shot 2013-02-19 at 10.33.18 AM

Better yet… don’t. My apologies. Wow. That’s gonna stay in my mind for a while.

It’s all well and good to want to be recognized for our work; but that shouldn’t be the goal.

Achievement is an actual experience: it is quantified and reliable internally and measured by a sense of accomplishment and pride by creating something or doing something that matters to us. It is largely a private experience. Achievement and accomplishment can build upon themselves as well and that’s good. We want to feel good about what we do; it’s nice… but does lack of recognition invalidate our achievements? No. Who cares if no one notices. Really… think about it. Like this: because that pens ceremony was completely made up does its message take away its significance? Maybe. No.

So this leads me to another self-acutalization, not based on a fictitious ceremony (sorry, I’m still pretty steamed about that): in order to build more pride and more enthusiasm for what we do (I’m really talking to myself here, you’re just sticking around to see if I come up with anything of any real value): we need to feel good about what we have done. I’ve been noticing this:

When someone asks me what I do, I usually sigh-speak, “I am a SAHM, but…” and that’s wrong. I need to build value and esteem into what I do here as a mother of three boys, because guess what: this gig is tough. I vacillate on this, clearly, I’ve written about it before, but the point is this, and I’m feeling closer now than the last time I dipped in this pool: I’m doing a good job. My kids are healthy, smartasses, and clever. They have friends, they have outlets and they don’t return the tools they borrow or bring their laundry down. This is all normal behavior. RIGHT?!

Instead of kicking a rock every time I think about the entirely huge reality that my book won’t outsell the Bible (especially not if I never publish it a*hem, Molly…) I need to be OK with the fact that I wrote one because that’s a big deal. (But… it would be nice to put it to bed and see what happens… Nnnn. That’s semi-recognitionistic isn’t it?)

These are the ideas that are floating around my head since giving up Facebook for Lent. I’m pretty cool with that decision; I haven’t thought in status-update mode yet today.

So here we are. Feel good about what you Have Done so that you will feel good about what you Will Do. We all have to start somewhere. I’m not looking for a pen medal (that’s good, because now I feel better that John Nash doesn’t have all those pens because… that would be wrong). But Nash did win the Nobel Prize in 1994.

I’m looking for self-satisfaction. That’s tough these days what with everyone seeking their 15 minutes of fame. It’s hard to know the difference. Or it used to be… I think I’m getting a handle on it. Self-satisfaction with personal achievement means you’re good with what’s going on; that if you kicked the bucket, you’d be OK with how your life has turned out, based on your own assessment.

If you haven’t seen the film, you should. It’s largely true; Nash did have schizophrenia and he has overcome it, and he is still affected by hallucinations. Here’s a nice moment that likely never happened:

The take away is this: be happy and proud of what you’ve done. If nothing else: it keeps the flow of good energy going in the universe and that, my friends, is HUGE.

Thank you.

Tuesday Morning (ha!) Press #15 — It’s Not “iTouch,” YOLO, Would-Be Shoplifter


Too much already in my head to start with.

I love my kids.

Wait for it….

But, it’s time for school to start again. Let me explain: in our burg, the kids get 2 days off from school for the end of the quarter so the teachers can get their grades in. That has meant for a very long weekend. I’ve been sick… the trifection is finally going away. I’m ready for the boys to go back to school. Only five more months until summer vacation y’all.

Yes, my Tuesday Morning Press normally posts in the morning between when I drop off the boys at school and go to yoga; but I’ve been sick so I’ve been posting whenever I get the time … but they’re still on Tuesdays. But no yoga yet. Next week.

Along with me being sick, my middle, my mini me, Thing 2 celebrated his 12th birthday with a raging sinus infection as well. Poor guy, when he blew his nose, it sounded like a sound effect for a thunderstorm off in the distance or one that you’d hear out of an iPhone or something. He’s on the mend now, playing basketball outside with the neighbors as I type. It’s a beautiful 64˚ day here. I would be all over that except that it’s January. The last few birthdays of his we had snow, lots of it, so this mid-60s thing is throwing me off.

Screen Shot 2013-01-29 at 6.05.47 PM

It’s called an “iPod touch” … say it wrong and I’ll mock you. This pic is from the Apple site.

Speaking of iStuff, we got him an iPod touch for his birthday. It’s called an “iPod TOUCH” not an iTouch. or itouch, which just sounds freakin’ creepy when you think about it. Every time someone says, “itouch” I can’t help but follow up with “myself” either very quietly where only I can hear it or I cough it. Doesn’t everyone coughspeak to veil their derision? Oh. My mistake.

Last week, I wrote about Adam Levine hosting SNL and my devotion to him. I don’t recant my devotion, but I don’t think I’ll ever be getting excited for him to host again. I had my suspicions, I’ll admit. He seems rather one-dimensional and even though wildly talented and very attractive smokin’ hot in his videos, he’s not ready in the least for live broadcasts on television in a comedy setting. Give the man a mic, his band, smoke, pulsing lights and a stage and we’re good… just don’t give him a cue card or a script. It was baaaaad. I almost feel sorry for him, to have to rely on his sexuality only to garner favor or attention. (That was almost funny.) Look, I’m no hypocrite, but when Bruno Mars or Justin Timberlake or Taylor Swift hosted, it was brilliant; they have comedy chops and each of them took advantage of the ensemble aspect of the show. Not Adam… he was like a rock with a voice. Ok… not a rock… a cat who talks. He couldn’t deal. The bright spot of the show was the digital short which brilliantly spoofed and waxed ironic of the Generation OMG/meme’s “YOLO” battle cry. YOLO stands for “You Only Live Once” and the video was a cautionary tale / ironic spin on the idiocy of doing stupid stuff just because you’re young.  Adam’s singing on the video was excellent, no surprise there, and he was bolstered by “The Lonely Island” a comedy trio made up of  Akiva SchafferJorma Taccone and SNL alum Andy Samberg. Also in the video was Danny McBride, and Kendrick Lamar who was also the musical guest that night. The video is great — it mocks (for me) the most ridiculously stupid saying I’ve ever heard…


Here’s hoping YOLO is dead and buried.

Another FANTASTIC moment was the Firehouse Fundraiser skit… Bill Hader is a GENIUS…. partake:


And as you can see, Adam did nothing for the skit.

Enough about Adam. More about me. What am I reading these days? I’m so glad you asked! I am in the midst of reading Triburbia which is a series of character vignettes about New York City dads who meet every morning for coffee after taking their kids to school. I can’t do it justice, yet, because I’m still reading it, but eventually (and I’m seeing it now) the characters will be tied together. So far, the pieces are excellently written, showcasing the author’s deft ability to wear many hats and easily reflect ironic along with a host of other talents I can’t wait to explore. I am not from NYC, where the stories take place, but I’m savvy to the many personality / money types he’s installed in the book. So far, I’m staying up waaaay too late reading it. One of his current characters, Brooke, reminded me (and likely ONLY me) of a super-rich Esther Greenwood (from Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar). Perhaps one of the best parts of this book is that I’m re-learning words I used to know.

I also recently read a couple eBooks which I’d love to recommend but I won’t. I am not going to mention them because I don’t want to be That Person, and we are a small community but suffice it to say, that the technology that enables eBook writing doesn’t necessarily mean it should give persons license to actually do so. That’s a lot coming from me, one who wants to publish a book one day, but rather than be turned off by all the not-ready-for-consumption stuff out there, I’m going to be inspired and buoyed, by say, Triburbia, Life of Pi, and some Hemingway. I also downloaded Les Miserables, which I want to read next. See you in November… it’s only 1,000 pages.

Did you see my post last week about my favorite movie lines? I recalled mostly by memory but double checked for accuracy 35 lines from 35 films. These aren’t the famous lines… so see how accurate you can be.

I have been dealing with this trifection long enough. Yesterday, at the urging of friends and my own fear, I went to the local urgent care facility which I have to say reminds me a lot of a very nice prescription-writing office. I was afraid I had or was beginning to show signs of pneumonia, but I’m good — my “pulse oximeter” reading from a tiny device that clips to my index finger was 100, which the highest we can get. So that’s good. What wasn’t so great was the doctor’s readiness to write me a prescription for another antibiotic, Levaquin (which is the strongest there is apparently) because I wanted to make sure I wasn’t really sick. If my pulse ox is excellent and my ears and everything else look good but no fever is present… why give me the script? I dunno. She also gave me a script for an inhaler (THANK YOU SWEET MOTHER OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN), which has made all the difference. Despite my personal leanings for homeopathic and holistic meds, this inhaler… it’s like plugging in a refrigerator versus using an old-fashioned ice box.

I can’t believe I almost stole these by accident.

So when we were at Target the other day getting Thing 2’s antibiotics, I almost shoplifted by accident. I have been so tired from all the blahs and the kids being home and reading too late and writing (it’s all good stuff I’m doing but I’m in denial that actual life happens around here) we were told that we had to come back for his stuff because his pediatrician didn’t fill in the proper amount to dose him appropriately. So I almost walked out with a pair of reading glasses. Not even totally necessary ones… +1s. Why couldn’t it have been something more scandalous, like some Dexatrim (do they still make that?) or a bottle box of wine or a copy of “Playgirl”? Reading glasses? REALLY? That was a personal low point. I can’t even accidentally shoplift well.

Have you been following my Friday Fiction at all? Don’t worry, my husband doesn’t. I got the LOWEST hits ever last Friday. If you hate it, please tell me. I can go back to being irreverent or post recipes and all that; truth of the matter, I’ve been ill and exhausted (that’s fancy talk for sick and tired) and if it weren’t for the fiction, I’d likely not be posting much at all. If you’ve been reading, thank you! If not… check out what the what’s going on… Garret is like, totally screwed up. When I first wrote that post I HATED IT WITH EVERY FIBER IN MY BEING. I thought, “how can I write such shit CRAP?” but I’m actually warming up to it now. For February (yes, I’m staying at it, so deal), we are writing our fiction with romance in mind… or love … what we kill do for love or what we don’t do for love. So this Friday, as in all Fridays so far this year, I’m letting these stories tell me how they wish to be told. I’m not in charge of this track… I’m just throwing coals in the engine. This train goes all by itself. Do you thknk I

But I plan to be back at it this week, swinging at flies and being irreverent and mindful and honest as usual. Be forewarned… I’m on an inhaler now.

Thank you.

Just *Some* of my Favorite Movie (Line)s


Everyone has their favorites.

I have mine; you have yours. Maybe some of mine will remind you of some of yours.

There is no way I can include them all, but these are the ones that I love most of the time, because I remember them so often. I picked the lines I did because I they are more obscure than the more popular lines and I am hopeful that when you read them, you’ll be taken back to your favorite moment in the film. Without further ado, in no particular order:

  1. We’ve come for your daughter, Chuck.
  2. Somebody blows their nose and you want to keep it?
  3. Throw me the idol, I give you the whip.
  4. This town needs an enema!
  5. They pull a knife, you pull a gun. He sends one of yours to the hospital, you send one of his to the morgue.
  6. We released ourselves on our own recognizance.
  7. They fuck you at the drive-thru!
  8. This house is clean.
  9. This is U.S. History, I see the globe right there.
  10. I wish we could just run away.
  11. I’ve never seen sugar do that.
  12. There are some who call me … Tim?
  13. I don’t know, Sparks. But I guess I’d say if it is just us… seems like an awful waste of space.
  14. Listen, I haven’t got a lot of time, but if you love your country, if you’re a patriot, you’ll listen and you’ll listen hard. I’ve got to get to a phone and you gotta make a call.
  15. How much you wanna bet I can throw this football over them mountains?
  16. Once you have a man with no legs, you never go back, baby.
  17. I think this boy’s cheese has done slid off his cracker.
  18. Eunice? There’s a person named Eunice?
  19. But why is the rum gone?
  20. My problem is that it’s 2 A.M. My problem is I’m asleep. I’m on a tour bus with eight stinkin’ men. Rule number one: Don’t propose to a girl on a bus, you got that? Rule number two: Don’t tell her it’s because you had a bad dream.
  21. That’s the beauty of it. I wake up one day, I don’t know where I’m gonna’ end up or who I’m gonna’ meet.
  22. The time for honoring yourself will soon be at an end.
  23. Well, you can’t never let anything happen to him. Then nothing would ever happen to him. Not much fun for little Harpo.
  24. You killed the car.
  25. There’s your Chinaman, Fred.
  26. Well, man from health department say he find rat pellet in pastry but I say no, is big chocolate sprinkle, but he shut store down. So we clean up, make big cookie for to bring customers back.
  27. You, ‘Flock of Seagulls,’ you know why we’re here? Why don’t you tell my man Vincent where you got the shit hid at?
  28. I love my dead gay son.
  29. There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to damage yours.
  30. And this lamp… that’s all I need.
  31. Here’s to swimming with bow-legged women.
  32. Put a sock in it, boy, or else you’ll be outta here like shit through a goose.
  33. Mother Nature just pissed her pantsuit!
  34. The only way somebody would get that would be to chop off my – finger. Let’s go down to the garden and find out what’s buried there.
  35. Young, young man. Did anyone ever tell you you look like a young prince out of the ‘Arabian Nights’?

Can you name the movies? Here are the answers…

  1. Beetlejuice
  2. Ghostbusters
  3. Raider of the Lost Ark
  4. Batman (Tim Burton)
  5. The Untouchables
  6. Raising Arizona
  7. Beverly Hills Cop
  8. Poltergeist
  9. Fast Times at Ridgemont High
  10. The Great Gatsby
  11. Men in Black
  12. Monty Python’s Quest for the Holy Grail
  13. Contact
  14. It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World
  15. Napoleon Dynamite
  16. Trading Places
  17. The Green Mile
  18. What’s Up Doc?
  19. Pirates of the Caribbean
  20. Walk the Line
  21. Titanic
  22. Gladiator
  23. Finding Nemo
  24. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off
  25. Sixteen Candles
  26. Bruce Almighty
  27. Pulp Fiction
  28. Heathers
  29. The Princess Bride
  30. The Jerk
  31. JAWS
  32. Animal House
  33. Tropic Thunder
  34. Rear Window
  35. Streetcar Named Desire

This list isn’t exhaustive of my favorite movies, but they are all favorites. My favorite on the list? Impossible to decide. But the one that makes my whole family including the surly teenager laugh is “What’s Up Doc?” You can’t go wrong, ever with that one. And the clothes? Oh! To die for.

Thank you.

Tuesday Morning Press #14 — Where Do I Start?! Captain Crunch is Left-Handed


So today I have yoga, but I didn’t go because I’m still congested and feeling about 85% normal and while I’d be OK for a regular class, I’m not OK for a vinyasa class, which is a lot more arduous than a regular hatha class, which is what I’ll be returning to later this week. WHAT? Move on. Nothing to see here.

I’m sorta grossed out by things. I guess this is why I’ve not been blogging too much lately because I don’t want to sound like a wet blanket that’s been stowed in a dark corner somewhere. Man, that’s a shitty metaphor. Blankets don’t sound like anything, and a wet one that’s been stowed in a dark corner… you’d smell it before you heard it… But I am also a big believer in the premise that if you get stuff off your chest then you become lighter, so here it goes…

I posted on my Facebook private wall the following:

I’m a wee bit tired of all the inaugural stuff. We just ended the election, so… 3 years, 362 days to go. I’m not a fan. Just sayin…

Now just so you know, my facebook profile picture this week is of my one true musical love Vincent D’Onofrio Adam Levine. This is my picture:


Hi. I’m hosting Saturday Night Live this weekend. Molly asked me to. I smiled like this when I thought about it.  Us Weekly took this pic of me.

So, naturally, the credibility of  anything I, Molly, say on my wall is actually completely fortified destroyed by Adam looking back at people in that awesome way that he is in this photo. I’ve had many female friends tell me how utterly distracted they are by Adam showing up on their news feeds and Adam replying to their comments. I think I’ve encouraged the early ovulation of many women on my FB feed.

Back to politics. REALLY? Yes. C’mon….

I’m an independent. I thought I was a fiscal conservative, but they’re all shaping to be aligned with idiotic conservatives voters who believe that the earth is only a few thousand years old and that we all came from Adam and Eve. I am a social liberal: personal stuff is personal stuff, but at the end of the day: if you live in America, if you pay American taxes, you should get everything all Americans get. The fighting on this status pretty much died when I said that. How do you rebut that? I win!

But my point about the hullabaloo of the inauguration and all the loooooove is that everyone loves a great speech; they’re romantic and full of power and hope. Everyone wants to be inspired, encouraged, empowered to storm the castle and be united. The problem lies in the next day: getting to work. First: The D.C. bars closed at 4am today, so there will be no getting back to work for about 2/3 of the joyful electorate; second: it’s a four-day work week and the US guvmint is notorious for its life-thieving, glacier-melting slowness.

I fear that Obama has reached new heights in popularity that belie his efficacy. It’s tough being president, he has attained idol status and well, that’s not good for anyone. And the other people who hate him? They’re just jealous. Here’s a proposal: you do his job and stick to your principles and see how much you get done. Tell me how that works out for you. The man’s gotta step up to his visions and make things happen that’s all I gotta say.


I am the happy recipient of two “Inspired Blogger” awards. I am gushing and very thankful to the two bloggers who awarded them to me:

Bulamamani, who is a fantastic artist and writer and whose fiction is seriously amazing, mesmerizing and engulfing. She wrote some stuff for the Friday Fiction challenge I’m heading up and based it on the four elements, Air, Water, Fire and Earth (this week) and maaaaan… well, check it out.

The other fabulous person who awarded me is Redhot Writing Hood, who is an inspiration herself. Artist (weee!: check out this COAT!!), writer, mom. She is honest, candid (not always the same thing, trust me). We share a common interest: health and nutrition. Read about her journey! She is new to blogging.

I am a rebel. I appreciate the awards, but I feel honestly, that while I believe the people who award them are full of love and admiration for the ones they cite, it’s becoming more of a networking tool than an actual award. When you I got an Oscar®, I didn’t have to award other people. I just got it and my career took off. Who are you?

I’ve gratefully earned awards before, and I dig them, buuuut, I’m not getting more traffic, no one has signed me up for writing a screenplay annnnd it’s a lot of work for the winner. The acceptance rules of the awards (yes, if you agree to accept, you must comply) are complicated and ever evolving: I am supposed to tell you 10 some interesting facts about myself and then share 15 or 20 several other bloggers. I’m going to spare myself and you almost all of that nonsense, and thank the awarders, “Thank you!!” and then say the following about myself:

1. I am left handed. That’s fascinating. So are some of my most awesome people I love: Vincent D’Onofrio, Adam Levine, Goldie Hawn, Kermit the FROG…

Here is a list of fascinating little-known, facts about left-handedness: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/10/29/left-handed-facts-lefties_n_2005864.html – I are not schizophrenic.

2. I love Downton Abbey; I hate Mary –she’s too uppity and uch stupid.  I also can’t stand her bland sister, Emily? Hanna? Clara? who tried to marry her grandfather. I adore Sophie, the rebellious, saucy bon vivant who married down and eloped with the family’s Irish chauffeur and of course the dowager Countess played by Maggie Smith. And Elizabeth McGovern? The the flat and tired American playing the flat and tired American? Pleh. Given that awesome assessment, the show is great. If you haven’t caught the fever, view episodes online… you’ll be HOOKED y’all.

3. My favorite color is periwinkle. Think of the sky before the sun rises sets (I’m not an early riser). That.

4. I love to sharpen knives. It keeps people away from me.

5. I am writing editing writing revising a book. I am having a hard time with self-published ebooks. I want to like them, because it’s hard to write a book, but . . . a lot can be said writers need tough editors and proof readers. So even though I’m in a high-level and early discussion with a publisher, it’s a self-pub arm of a traditional house and I dunno… I am fearful of being lumped in with self-pubs which suck need work and are published prematurely anyway.

6. I dig Asian-centric books such as The Joy Luck Club, Memoirs of a Geisha, Snow Flower and The Secret Fan and Shanghai Girls. The irony of course is this: only The Joy Luck Club is written by an Asian woman and Geisha was written by a dude. Go figure.

7. I love the father of our country, George Washington. He coulda been king, but declined.

7. I have a Thing for Cap’n Crunch with Crunchberries. I seldom indulge, but when I do, I consider it a National Holiday; I ate some yesterday, MLK Day, as a matter of fact. So… be forewarned: if you over-pour a serving in my household and you do not eat it all, I will kill you.

Respect the Code, don’t over pour. Oh my! The Captain is left-handed too! This changes EVERYTHING.

I am dreadfully close to my personally imposed limit of 1200 words for this post. I imposed this to spare you my blathering. Consider yourself lucky…

Thank you.