Sunday, February 26, 2012

My Broken Hip(ness)

"... well maybe I'm not "the norm". I'm not "camera friendly", I don't "wear clothes that fit me", I'm not a "heartbreaker", ... I don't know "how that works", I don't "fall in line", I'm not "hygienic"...I lack "style", I don't have "self-esteem", I have no "charisma", I don't "own a toothbrush", I don't "let my scabs heal", I can't "reach all the parts of my body", when I sleep I "sweat profusely". But I guess the powers that be will keep signing my pay check until Jack and Jane K. Viewer start to go for the remote so they can get back to commentators who don't "frighten children", who don't "eat their own dandruff", who don't "pop their whiteheads with a compass they used in high school"..." - Chris Farley as Weekend Update Commentator Bennett Brauer on Saturday Night Live, circa 1991  

My Readers Dear who are laughing hysterically right now don't need to click on the link below to know what this reference is about.  For my Readers Dear who are scratching their heads, please click on the link below.  I guarantee it will be the funniest 3 minutes of your day.  Whether you are laughing or shaking your head, it matters not to me, I love you anyway.

Right now I predict you are thinking one or both of the following:
1.  "Whew, I'm glad she came out of her January funk. She was really bumming me out."
B.  "That's a pretty obscure reference. Why is she pulling this one out of her near-encyclopedic,  yet, pretty much useless, collection of entertainment trivia?"

This particular Farley character came to my mind as I contemplated my current state of "unhipness".  I have always prided myself on this useless compendium of knowledge I carry around in my oversize, almost-Mensa-material brain.  I have been heard to immodestly say, "I speak in movie quotes."  I'm fluent in Seinfeld, Bing, Lennon AND McCartney. At weddings, I like to dance like Elaine Bennis.  My friend Karen has a "Costanza Wallet".  My husband and I, while watching any show or movie in which appears an actor who is since dead, will turn to each other and say, "He's dead, Jim.".  When I am having a bad day, I tell myself to "just keep swimming.".  One of my (female) roommates in college had "man hands".  I giggle to myself when I chop broccoli -- every.  time.  I can say all the lines in "Grease" before the actors do.  I crack up when the ice cream man comes to the park.   And if you have never seen "Office Space", or worse, have seen it but, (horrors!) don't get it.  Well, you're off my list.  

But this is where my hipness ends, you see.  Although I fancy myself still hip and relevant, in reality, my hipness wore off somewhere between 2003 and the present.  My husband and I, in our mid-lives, often tease each other about falling down and breaking a hip.  Sadly, I think my "hip" has been broken for some time...

I became a mother in 2003.  In the 9 years since then, I have lost touch with my inner hipster.  Several factors contribute here, not the least of which is the fact that I'm exhausted ALL.  THE.  TIME.  I have spent the last 9 years carrying, birthing, nursing, changing, rocking, singing to, playing Candyland with and driving my offspring to preschool, church, and playdates.  I have filled my days and years with the repetitive tasks of so many mothers:  sippy cups, chicken nuggets, boogers, barf and the PTO.  (Side note:  Second place title for this blog -- "I Don't Think I had Cheerios in my Hair When I Laid Down Last Night."  I know, too wordy.)   So, yes, I'm exhausted and just want to go to bed.    In addition, I'm NEVER allowed to watch my T.V..  My husband or children are always in charge in that department.  Thank heavens for DVR technology.  Yes, I know DVR technology is not new to those of you who think you are soooo hip, but I have only just mastered it in the last 3 months.  Now my oldest will soon be 9, my "baby" is 7.  They both attend school and I am just now awakening from my cultural-reference-slumber.  

The scene plays something like this:  I wake up, much like Dorothy as she comes out of her poppy slumber.  I wander through this strange new land, where I have 9 years worth of t.v., music and movies to catch up on.  Some of my discoveries are grim, some delightful....

Imagine my surprise to find that Doogie Howser is not 14 anymore? working?? gay??? a father of twins????  

Apparently you can make a show about anything, anybody, anywhere.  There's a show about Hillbilly Handfishing? Ghosthunters? Ice Truckers? Ice T? 1000 Ways to Die?

I have missed not just an episode, not just a season, but the ENTIRE run of the following shows: "24", "Lost", "Grey's Anatomy", and "Desperate Housewives".  I have yet to watch an episode of "Glee", "Big Bang Theory", "American Idol", "How I Met Your Mother", "30 Rock" and "Downton Abbey".  I have seen "Two and a Half Men" -- I'll take the zero on that, thanks.

And, p.s., Did Howie Mandel have chemo?  And who, who, who gave Donald Trump his own show???  

The yearly spectacle of The Oscars has descended upon us.  I have seen exactly zero of the nominees for Best Picture.  I've seen only 2 movies in the theater this year, both comedies.  If I show up at your house with a tribal tattoo surrounding my left eye and carrying a "bear sandwich", you'll know which movies I'm referring to.  

I'm still learning how to download music.  Stop laughing!  It's not funny! I play around with Spotify and Pandora a little, I like my M5, a little Vampire Weekend, and some Dia Framps.  That's about as hip as I get with my music.  Ultimately, my heart belongs to Michael Buble and the New Wave on which I cut my teeth in college.   

Chris Farley died in 1997, along with him, Bennett Brauer.  If Bennett Brauer were to come back and join us, I imagine he would be as mystified as I am at some of the things that pass for entertainment today.   His SNL commentary might  sound something like this:

"I'm not "Bachelor material",   "Lady" Gaga "terrifies me" , I don't have "moves like Jagger" ,  I can't "keep up with the Kardashians",  "Skinny Jeans" don't work for me, neither do "Pajama Jeans",  I don't have a"disco stick",  I don't "get Snookie", "Holy Shniekies, there's a black man in the White House!?", I'm too fat to "Twitter",  I don't have a "Sexy Back",   I like "the Food Network",  I'm not cut out for "American Idol",  I'm not"Pinteresting", Apparently, the housewives I know aren't "real",  I don't worship at the altar of "Hilton and Lohan",  I'm incapable of "manscaping",  I'm a "hoarder".  I sweat too much to pass one of "Maury's"  lie detector tests.  But I guess as long as John Q. Public is willing to tune in to see me as an alternative to Glenn Beck and Nancy Grace, I must be doing something right."

Oh Chris, how we miss you.  No one ever wore David Spade's sport jacket better, not even David himself.  

I'm off to watch my DVR'ed episodes of "Grimm", "Once Upon a Time", "Smash" and "The Voice".  Maybe by the end of the week I'll be hip enough to strike up a conversation at the water cooler with you.  

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