Posts Tagged ‘letters’

 

Dearest Miley, miley-cyrus-lick-600x600

As we approach the middle of the week which is the last week of August 2013, I am plagued and have been plagued for the past couple of days of what some could possibly call a raunchy performance, your name still hasn’t slipped back into obscurity as it was for the last … oh I don’t know … how long. 

And even though you’re not the first “celebrity-type” person to have done something as raunchy as what you did, and I regretfully admit that you will not be the last person, we must deal with right now, in the present. And face our consequences for the past. 

I am reminded (personally) of an early episode of The Big Bang Theory. I believe it was Season One. I do not know if you (or if anyone reading this will actually) watch it, since I do not know whether or not you have the kind of time to watch these kinds of programs that are on television, but let me break down one particular scene that comes to mind. 

The horny yet innocent and still lovable character of Howard Wolowitz overhears that the cousin to his friend’s female neighbor is in town, and she’s just about as easy as Ramen noodles when it comes to amorous activities in the bedroom. So later after their dalliances, the girl makes her first on screen appearance and says “There’s my little engine that could!” Well, the reaction of one of the lovable scientists comes out to “There’s a beloved children’s book I’ll never read again.” 

Something similar happened after viewing your performance on the VMA’s this year.

I WILL NEVER EVER BE ABLE TO LOOK AT A TEDDY BEAR AS AN INNOCENT CHILD’S TOY AGAIN!

CHILDREN SLEEP WITH THOSE THINGS AT NIGHT FOR SECURITY AND PROTECTION FROM THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT!!!!

And what you had done with those costumes of Teddy bears gallivanting on stage, has ruined the innocence of the Teddy bear for me, forever. I am an adult. I am not a parent, but I am an uncle, and now because of this… my nieces and nephews will never have the delight and joy of knowing what owning a Teddy bear is all about. At least not as a present from their uncle. And so when my nieces and nephews ask me why I shake in horror at one of those things today, the only thing that I  can do is wonder how to tell them. But I am paralyzed to do so, without doing so first in a therapist’s office with faceless dolls. 


And needless to say that cheering on a personally preferred sports team with a foam finger is now out of the question, indefinitely. How many uses did you intend on having to fulfill your heavily veiled masturbatory acts on stage to prove you are a woman and not a child? miley-cyrus-2013-vmas

You have been in our living rooms, TV and movie screens for many years now. I have no idea what it could have possibly been like for you, being a nameless product of a giant company that brings up child stars and then spits them out when they are done with them. 

We, millions of Americans, and some of us being your fans, already understand your plight with your identity. Let me repeat that you are not the first one to have the stress of this problem. Not by a long shot, and you will not be the last. 

We all remember Britney when she went through her tragic meltdown. All in the pursuit of making a name for herself, attempting to step into the lights of adulthood and closing the chapter of her childhood. 

And you, no less, have similar stresses to deal with in order to make that happen. I don’t know if you recall or not, but we nearly lost Miss Spears to all of it. I would imagine that’s not the end result that you are or have been looking for. 1377483237000-mileytonguebetter 

However, dry humping costumed Teddy bears, singing about illegal activities and substances at parties, and grinding Mr. Thicke isn’t the best way to go about making your transformation. 

The eyes of millions are still upon you. Now that you have reached the age of twenty, things are different in the world that you need to recognize. 

Chances are that you probably not going to completely strip away your past. You are who you are. And you will not be able to strip away the things that you say and do now, when you are thirty-five years old. The time to pay attention is NOW and in the PRESENT. 

There are just going to be many people who remember the child star that you had become right before our eyes, which propelled you to who and where you are today. 

And even those fans that have followed you through thick and thin through your teen years, there’s always going to be some younger sibling of those fans that will find you as a new and fresh approach in their lives. And they will toss you up there so high on that pedestal again that we’ll see nothing but the bottoms of your feet as you are forced to stand upon it. 

I read today, someone else who had posted their feelings and I quite agree that your life is far different from your faithful followers. If they were to do the things that you do, and act upon the things that you sing about, they will not be swept away by some fancy attorney who will come in and save the day. No! Instead they will be forced to face the music of their actions. Most of them either in jail, or with a criminal record that will plague them throughout their own personal adulthood, or the inevitable and difficult to think about option, death. Meanwhile, you are earning income off of their purchases that relate to you.

There’s no savior for those whom you call your fans. All the while, you have just about everything set up for you. And still you struggle with the inappropriate actions of trying to separate yourself as a twenty year old woman living in pop culture. 

Finding your identity as an adult is not a crime. Nope, it surely isn’t. But with adulthood comes more responsibility than you ever had to bear before in your entire life. And that responsibility comes with the choices that you personally make. And with those choices come the consequences that you and only you will have to answer to. 

Your poor choice of doing what you did at the VMA has brought all of this attention of the world down upon you. And quite honestly, it was well deserved from your performance. So in that, I say BRAVO!!!!

But I do have some concerns that I would like to bring up at this time. backstge-vmas-miley-cyrus

Your wardrobe, it was a living nightmare. There comes a time to take stock and re-consider when you backside bits are dangling out and posing similarities to a specific protein that is within the American diet. Particularly during one late autumn holiday that is late on the calendar. I could call into question whether there was a malfunction or that is what you had intended? Only you can answer this. 

Secondly, is there by chance, any particular need to see a dentist or an oral surgeon? 

miley-cyrus-vma

Good job of veiling your action of masturbation on National television!

I am keeping my fingers crossed that the reason for it all, is NOT because you have some sort of or any combination of temporomandibular disorders. If that is the case, then you have my sympathies. As a person with a physical disability, I can some what relate to having to deal with pain and medical procedures.  

Yet your tongue had about, what I could count, four inches of residue. Nobody wants to see this. And I mean NOBODY!!! I’m not sure what you had to eat that day but whatever you consumed (whether legal or illegal) showed up quite plainly as you appear to rather enjoy having your tongue wag from between your teeth. For someone wanting to close the chapter on immaturity and childhood, a wagging tongue is not the way to go! 

So in conclusion, it is a real triumph to be the person that outshocks and outshines Lady Gaga. Not even Taylor Swift’s lip-readable “F” bomb came close to what you pulled off on stage. But then to think about it, is that something to be proud of? 

I just wonder about your poor parents. And I wondered if they even cared. I cannot even begin to imagine your plight, growing up as progeny of musical talent that was as hot as you are today just a few decades ago. I couldn’t even begin to dream to understand. 

I just know that I can draw another parallel with that as back in 1983 as a child, I did two television commercials that were ran statewide in the state of Arkansas. (You know the place!)

They were for raising funds to build a handicapped accessible swimming pool. And when I had finished recording those two commercials and weeks later when they began to appear on television, I had many teachers and professionals in my school asking me for an autograph. Of course they were being cute about it. 

My parents one day overheard me getting rude about it and assuming to charge them ten dollars for me to autograph a scrap piece of paper. My father came up to me and whipped the tar out of me for acting like I did, told me to apologize, and then sign the paper with grace, humility, and a little more self-pride. 

My autograph is worthless compared to yours, so I can’t even bring this up to point out how horrible your actions were, even though mine were horrible enough in their own right. 

In conclusion, I hope that by the consequences that you are currently suffering, that you will have a lesson to have learned throughout all of this. I will hope that next time, you will be wiser in deciding what to do in your career, and your personal life as well …. even though that is your business and not mine. 

But for now, the posts on Facebook will swell until the next big Hollywood SNAFU. And that will inevitably come as well. I just hope its not you, which will make it look like a continuation of this situation at the present. 

I will continue to post them because just like you with your fans, I mean something to the people who know me. And I wish for them to know and understand the horrible ends that are you are experiencing because of foolish choices and that those who know me and look up to me (for their own personal reasons, just as your fans look to you), that they may know what NOT to do in the future and use your experience as a lesson for their own lives and learn to make better choices and live better and healthier lives. 

Good luck, Miss Cyrus. And goodnight.

“To be honest, I find going out pretty scary and intimidating. Got all those people checking you out, with only one purpose: hooking up. I’m quite the dork, I’d rather sit home and play Scrabble. But that doesn’t get you a girl, does it?”~Wentworth Miller

Okay fellow subscribers and readers: No hokey posts about love, emotion, desires, dreams or the brain today. I’m sure that plenty of you are tired of it all.

I also want to say thank you to all of those who read this blog. Yesterday I reached over 3,000 total views. It is what makes me want to keep this blog alive, instead of discarding it. Knowing that people are reading it.

With that said:

This afternoon, I went out on to the battlefield. Well actually, just the game board. But it was still heated. After having played a gruesome game of Scrabble today, I was reminded of the previous times I have played against the neighbors and I either came out of it victorious, or was put into immediate shame.

There was a time a few years ago, the apartment complex had a Game Day on Friday afternoons. Scrabble was one of the games offered and I stuck around to play the neighbors. Suddenly, it was a grueling foursome fight.

But then the guy who would always win, was caught cheating and so his wife simply bowed out of it after verbalizing her disgust in her husband’s cheating ways. Then the next person simply had lost her interest in playing the game.

It became a head-to-head challenge. My opponent with many degrees and certificates and knowledge of languages, and simple little ole me.

Eventually, I could see how the guy was cheating. He would put words on the board and claim 20-30 points for the word when it actually never was a word. When he was asked to use it in a sentence, he wouldn’t blink or shake and would make up something that sounded real that nobody ran for a dictionary. It was supposed to be fun, it was never for prizes or anything like that.

What would seem to could have been the final blow at the time was the argument over the word “CALVARY“. I was using it as a military term, but the old man defied all of that logic (even though he came out of the Army as a Lt. Col.), and said that it was a proper noun, i.e.~ the Cross of Calvary, and therefore it could not be played.

There were no dictionaries around and no computers available that were working to jump online to look it up. The end result was that this word, would have landed on a triple word score block and put me so far ahead of him in the lead that he’d have no chance to come back and beat me because all other triple word score blocks were already used. Plus it was nearing the end of the game, and I only had a few letters left. Using the word would have meant that I used ALL of my tiles that I had and that would have added even more to the lead for getting a 50 point bonus for using all of your tiles. I was looking at a word that would have gained me close to 80 points total. The guy wouldn’t have had a freakin’ chance.

So the final result was that I pulled my word off of the board, and he grabbed it to take his turn. He claimed that because I placed an improper word on the board, I forfeited a turn.

I think that actually are the rules, but this is supposed to be a low-key match on a Friday afternoon just passing the time away. No world-domination of supreme rule involved and the fate of the world was not in jeopardy from this game. Besides, nobody made him forfeit a turn when he got caught cheating and it was obvious, and then he went ahead and played another word. Nobody said anything about that!!!

He ended up using the triple word score block and had something like 50+ points from one word. Suddenly it was I, who was so far back that I could never catch up and he won the match by well over 30 points in the end.

To this day, nobody has ever figured out if I was actually right or not.

He and I have played a game or two here and there since then. But not as we used to, not after that scene over that one word. Probably a year went by before we went at it again.

His wife had refused to play. And I do not think that anyone blamed her because her husband would cheat so deliberately.

A two player game will mount points up of over 200 total and be pretty close to 300. A three or four player game is a little different. Once a player is getting up to 200 points, they are either cheating or its nearing the end of the game.

We no longer fear the dreaded J, Q, X, or Z. In fact, we invite it. Those are the letter tiles that gain you the most points, even if you are unsure of which words would contain them to spell out something correctly. I think that many people who play the game just for fun don’t really know a lot of words with those kinds of letters and they panic whenever its something that they draw.

Today’s “playground” was a bit different. It was myself, plus the husband and wife. A glorious effort by all who were involved because we were just so darned rusty in playing the game. But it got pretty heated and intense.

I could never maintain a lead. Sure, I would play a word and then capture the lead… but the person after me would always score something higher and pass me up to take the lead away.

At one point, I was so far behind that I did what I could to catch up. I had a “Q”, and I was able to form the word “QUEST“. But that “Q” was one space short of being in the triple word score block. A “Q” equals 10 points alone x 3 would’ve been 30 points on just ONE letter, then the rest of the word. But it was short one spot.

The wife saw the opportunity and started to trash talk and celebrate as she added on to the word and created the word, “REQUEST“. I think it was 54 points for that one word. She built herself a very solid lead.

She was very proud of herself for finding it. The husband already had warned me that’s what she would have played. So all the trash talk- we were prepared for. Nothing like the elderly pointing their fingers in your face and giving your the raspberries.

But it was my turn next, and I took up the other opportunity because I built the word “REQUESTED” and the “D” actually landed on the other triple word score block. (For those of you who play and know the board- the “D” was played at the very bottom right corner, which tripled the word in points.)

It gained me 57 points and only behind the leader by less than ten points at that time!!!

Suddenly, things weren’t looking to bad for me. The wife immediately was deflated and all I was really hoping for was to keep up with the wife, and only doing my best to try and keep the lead close from the husband. I felt there was no shame in earning second place. Epic war!

But then I was the player who went out. I added the total score and was still down by just a few points. The rules do state that if any player is left with any letters, and someone goes out, then they subtract the point value total from their score. The one who goes out first actually GAINS the point value of each letter left unplayed by other players. The wife had a total of five points, and the husband only one point. The gain of six points at the end was the trick that gave me the victory!!! I beat the husband by one point– HIS point that he had to surrender, otherwise he and I would have tied.

Clearly, he was a bit disgusted that he lost, and by so very little. He’s so used to decimating me. He wanted another game, but I was fortunate enough to announce that I had an appointment soon and I had to leave.

The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat…. or something like that.

So if Wentworth Miller (of “Prison Break” fame) says he’s a dork for playing Scrabble, then every once in a while, I am in complete dorkness!! I say to him, “Come on over, I’ll kick your butt.”

What kinds of board games do you indulge once in a while? Trivia? Monopoly?? Let me know. I’d be curious to find out.

And for those of you who are wondering:

  • Wife- 194
  • Husband- 201
  • Me-202

“My Darling,

I write to you with the hopes that one day soon, I will be able to return to you. It is quite lonely here without your touch. And your home cooking. Remember, I love you always ………..”.

I was up very late this morning. I got caught up watching a program at 2:00 in the morning on PBS called “War Letters”. It was a collection of letters that were written by American soldiers back home. And a few letters that were written by loved ones to soldiers who were at war. It spanned not just the infamous World War II, but letters that were written by our brave soldiers throughout all of history’s conflicts. Starting with the Revolutionary War.

It was really interesting to me to hear what truly went on in the minds of a soldier when they were away from home. What was so heart breaking about the program was that after the narration of the letters, there would some times be an added note that the soldier had died in battle just days later. So you knew that was the last letter they ever wrote. After a few times of that, I couldn’t watch any more.

I went to bed thinking about my own style of writing personal e-mails towards family, friends, and colleagues. I could definitely see similarities in the mentality phase of my messages, just like these soldiers. Much of my thoughts that go into the body of the messages. Some short, some lengthy. The only difference was I do not write with similar thoughts and words that were the erotic content, as most of the letters that were featured in the program were to the wives of the soldiers.

But when was the last time that I wrote a letter? I mean actually sat down at the table with pen and paper and put it in an envelope and seal it with a stamp. The answer to that question is a few months ago. I wrote a fan letter.

I remember that I was only half way down the page, and my wrist started to cramp up really bad. And at that point, I had only begun to write the body of the message after having written the beginning sentiment. My mind began to wonder about the art of letter writing.

With cell phones, and text messaging, and e-mails… it seems as if letter writing has become almost outdated and extinct. And I feel that it is a shame. Everything now is about “convenience”. Almost anything a person wants to do, they can do on a computer or cell phone. All you need is two thumbs and a clear cell phone signal.

Writing a letter though, takes almost the entire arm. The fingers to hold the pen, the wrist to keep the pen steady, and the forearm to move fluidly across the page.

I’ve gone in and out of the hobby of penpals for many years of my life. Starting back when I was in school, learning German. I remember begging my German teacher if she could connect me with some German students that would not mind writing back and forth actual letters that were sent through the post office. My address was given to a teacher somewhere in Germany, who was actually teaching her students English. Three of those students took up my address and wrote me. I wrote one in particular throughout those years in school and into college. Until the age of the Internet was becoming so popular worldwide. I finally received my last correspondence from Germany close to 1998, when I received a postcard that was from Stockholm, Sweden. They were on holiday and they wrote:

“I do not see any fun in asking questions. I am bored with asking ‘what is your favorite color?’. But I hope you are doing well.”

That was the last time I heard from them.

From that point on, I tried again to write penpals from a different source. I placed my address in a heavy metal music magazine and listed only about a handful of singers and bands that I favored at the time. I don’t remember the name of the publication any more.

But that did not turn out anything that was worth while holding on to. Nobody that wrote to me had much in common, or much to talk about in the first place. I was getting letters from girls who were only between the ages of 12-16 years of age that only complained about how they hated school and what not.

Then I joined a fan club. Found a few people to write to. One that would be absolutely faithful in writing letters. She was from just outside of Toronto, Ontario in Canada. Even through years of letter writing, it got switched over to e-mail when it had seemed that everyone & their toy poodles and pet lizards had access to the Internet.

That same year though, I received as a Christmas gift a roll of postage stamps and a box of letter-sized envelopes. A roll of 100 postage stamps back then only cost $32.00.

I had told a friend of mine that I had a goal to have two penpals from each of the fifty states of the United States. I believe that I only got six in total.

That is mostly my history of it all. I know that there are several penpal sites on the Internet where someone can write to. I tried that as well. All I got were wedding proposals from women in some third-world like country in Africa. I told myself, “Never again.” At least not from that site.

When was the last time you received a written letter in the mail? When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone and put it in the mail?

The last hand written note that I received in the mail was a postcard that was sent from Las Vegas. Its just too bad that I cannot read it because its put up on my wall with thumb tacks to admire the rather sexy photograph on the front.

But an actual letter, no… I cannot think about when the last time I received one. I receive greeting cards for my birthday from my family, so I guess that counts… sorta. Right?

Don’t you remember the special feeling of opening your mailbox and finding a letter that was addressed specifically to you? Remember how important you felt at that exact moment that someone out there in the world was thinking of you, enough to give you something so personal as a hand written letter??

Receiving e-mails are great. But I think that letter writing is far more personal and intimate than receiving anything electronically. When you receive a letter, you get to see that person’s inner being. You can tell how important it was for them to write, simply by what kind of paper they used to write on. The color of the ink from the pen that they used, and their beginning and ending sentiments. I remember even receiving letters that had perfum sprayed on the paper. And some of them daring enough to place lipstick prints at the top of each page, and again at the bottom where they signed their name. All of these neat little things tells so much about a person, just as much as the content of their letter. 

All of it has a personal and intimate touch to it. Almost to the point that I would dare to say that they’ve poured their soul into their message.

Their hand writing becomes so fascinating because you can tell when something they are writing about is exciting because they begin to write in larger letters. Particularly if they have underlined some phrase within their paragraph. Remember seeing about a thousand lines underneath it? Yeah, it was important for them to point that out.

Sometimes sentences would not even end in correct punctuation. I know that I have had a fair share of letters that would have a sentence or a paragraph that would end with them drawing a smiley face, instead of inserting a period. To me, that is just as personal as it can get.

Receiving a personally hand written letter is probably the next best thing to having that personal actually knock on your front door. Its an inviting experience to say in the least because once you bring the letter inside, they are right there with you. You smile, laugh, or cry. But you do it with them in mind. It is the closest thing to being tangible with them. Because their hands wrote the message. And they’ve carried themselves to actually have the letter mailed to you.

I personally would not mind trying my hand again at letter writing. I would not mind starting again with the hobby of penpals.

The art of letter writing does not have to be outdated. You have to want to do it. E-mails are quick and lightning fast, writing letters though are far more intimate and personal. You have to find and make the time to do it.