Tag Archives: Saturday Night Live

celebrities, lessons learned, music, musings, obits, TV

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but “failing is a big part of ultimately finding success…”

Good morning, y’all. It’s a very rainy Tuesday here in Wiesbaden (ETA: the sun is now out). I was remarking to Bill this morning that this weather seems more like what we usually get in September, as autumn approaches. In Germany, summer has a tendency to end abruptly. One day, it’ll be hot, then there will be some rain and all of a sudden, you need a jacket to go outside. On the other hand, in recent years, the weather has been such that jackets aren’t always necessary even in the “ber” months…

This morning, I was looking at my Facebook memories and noticed a couple of photos from August 1 of prior years that show our backyard(s). They’re usually brown and parched on August 1. Not this year, though. This year, the grass is very green and my “bee bomb” wildflowers are flourishing. My rain barrel is now overflowing, because we’ve had rain consistently for the past week or so. For the most part, I’m glad. It keeps the temperatures from getting too oppressive and prevents the creek from getting too low.

Aw shit… another one gone.

Last night, I learned the Paul Reubens, aka “Pee-wee Herman”, passed away after six years of fighting cancer. I wasn’t a huge fan of Pee-wee Herman’s work, but I do remember his hilarious 1981 HBO special, which was definitely not made for kids… and his “Pee-wee’s Playhouse” Saturday morning show, that definitely was made for kids. I remember that Pee-wee Herman was very much a staple of 80s humor. He appeared in movies, commercials, and PSAs.

He even made an ad in Japan…
Pee-wee says “Say no to crack.”

This morning, Bill was reading about Pee-wee’s career, and he said that Paul Reubens had tried out to be on Saturday Night Live. He was rejected. He also auditioned for several big name colleges, hoping to study his craft at places like Julliard and Carnegie Mellon University. Again, he was turned down, and he ended up attending California Institute of the Arts and Boston University. Then, one day, he got his big break, and became world famous.

A lot of people seem to be genuinely sad that he passed away at age 70, in spite of his infamous run in with Sarasota, Florida police at an adult movie theater back in 1991. He was caught masturbating, along with several others. The incident led to him becoming the butt of many jokes and temporarily derailed his career. But, that incident blew over, and he was eventually back in many people’s good graces.

“God” loves Pee-wee Herman.

As I was listening to Bill talk about Pee-wee’s life, it occurred to me that in his case, failing was a good thing. What would have happened if Pee-wee had gotten on Saturday Night Live as a regular cast member? Would he have ever had his own show? Would he have been in movies? The man was clearly a pop culture phenomenon. If he’d been part of the SNL ensemble, I don’t think he would have achieved all he did in his life.

Failing is part of trying, and many of the most awesome successes come after a person tries and fails and takes another approach. Yesterday, I mentioned Taylor Swift in my blog post. When she was still a young girl, she knew she wanted to be a star. Her family moved to the Nashville area and she started submitting demos to record labels. They all turned her down, because she was like all of the other girls trying to be stars. Taylor was undaunted, and she realized at the tender age of twelve or thirteen that if she wanted to make it, she needed to stand out and be original. So she started doing things differently. She came up with her own style, and wrote songs that struck a chord with the masses. Now, her show is the hottest ticket in town.

Even Madonna failed before she hit it big. Back in the early 80s, before she became a cultural icon, Madonna tried out for the role of Doris Schwartz on the TV show, Fame. She didn’t get the part. It went to Valerie Landsburg, who was much more appropriate for the role of a cute, motherly, Jewish girl who could sing. I don’t know what possessed Madonna to try out for the role of Doris. Maybe it’s because back in the 80s, she bore a passing resemblance to Maureen Teefy, the actress who played the role of Doris Finsecker in the 1980 film version of Fame. Anyway, she clearly wasn’t the type the casting agents were looking for when they were casting that show. Thank God she didn’t get the part. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I loved the Fame TV show, cheesy as it was. But Madonna wasn’t meant to be on that show. She was meant to be the Queen of Pop!

This was not a role for Madonna…
This is…
“She is a star.”
This is definitely NOT Doris Schwartz.
Neither is this.

But she sure gave her audition a good try…

Even my own destiny was altered by failure. When I decided to go to graduate school, I applied to two programs and was accepted by both. I had wanted to be a Peace Corps Fellow, because I was worried about how I would pay for my education. Well… as things turned out, I didn’t get my wish. There was a big misunderstanding regarding the program at Western Illinois University, where I would have spent 2.5 years earning one Master of Science degree. The powers that were there determined my career goals weren’t a good fit for the Fellows program, even though I got into the degree program itself.

At the University of South Carolina, where I ended up going to school, the Peace Corps Fellows program I had applied for was defunded and changed drastically. Honestly, I can’t even really explain what happened, except to say that the whole thing was completely screwed up and backwards. I ended up having to do my dual master’s degree program out of the usual order. I then had to be accepted by the graduate school to be accepted to the MSW program, even though I was already in the MPH program, and had obviously already been accepted by the graduate school for that more challenging and competitive program.

In the end, it was actually a blessing that I wasn’t a Peace Corps Fellow, because that program would have required me to stay in South Carolina for four years after graduation and work for the state. It would have meant I probably couldn’t have married Bill in 2002… or it would have required us to live apart for awhile. Everything worked out, anyway. My education is now completely paid for, too, even if I don’t really use it in the way I had intended.

Bill and I were talking about this “failure phenomenon” over breakfast, and he said that when he was a captain, overseeing new recruits, there were some people that kind of wanted to push them through and avoid having them experience failure. Bill said that was the wrong approach, since training is where people are supposed to fail. That’s how they learn.

I can remember being a student and feeling shame and dread whenever I got an F on my schoolwork. By the time Fs were a more common experience for me, my parents had pretty much stopped caring about my grades, anyway. But I still felt ashamed. Wouldn’t it have been better if I’d had a caring mentor in my life who told me that as long as I tried, and had done my best, there was no shame in a failing grade. It was just a sign that I needed help with understanding the material, and not a personal failing or sign of poor character. Imagine how much mental distress and suicide could be avoided if we simply allowed people the freedom to fail, and reminded them that many very famous and successful people have failed repeatedly. But they kept trying, and eventually went on to succeed, and we lesser known beings can do the same.

Life is meant to be lived. Experience is a good thing, even if it involves failure. We can learn a lot from people who haven’t made it (yet)… or have failed and eventually gone on to achieve. I’m glad Pee-wee Herman didn’t get a spot on SNL. I’m happy for Taylor Swift that she had the wisdom to try a new approach and make another attempt. And I’m so relieved that Madonna wasn’t cast as Doris Schwartz!

Anyway… I hope Paul Reubens is at peace, now that he no longer has to worry about fighting cancer. He was a role model to so many people… like this guy.

You know this character was based in truth. How many kids of the 80s loved Pee-wee Herman?
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controversies, expressions, language, law

Repost: For the love of God, look it up!

And now I’m reposting this article that appeared on my original Blogspot version of The Overeducated Housewife on December 23, 2018. It’s a follow up to the previous repost– a rant about people who misspell HIPAA and insist that it’s actually spelled HIPPA (wrong). Again, this is mostly as/is, and all info was current as of 2018, not 2023.

Apologies to all.  I’m going to continue yesterday’s rant a little bit.  I know it’s petty.  I know a lot of people don’t care, and are more concerned that we get the “gist” of what people are referring to when they write “HIPPA” instead of “HIPAA”.  Frankly, I take a different view.  Knowledge is power.  I hate to toss around trite sayings, even those created by great authors like the late Dr. Maya Angelou.  But she was right when she said this:

Sage, gentle words from a great writer.

I don’t tend to use this quote much myself, mainly because the original wording has become bastardized into something that sounds kind of self-righteous and condescending.  Often, people who use this quote say or write something like this:

There’s a real difference in tone between these two quotes.  The second one is actually a modified version of the first, but comes across as kind of obnoxious.  Some other people simply write or say, “When you know better, do better.”  It’s akin to the people who shriek “Educate yourself!”

Another blogger, name of Mom, the Intern, does a much better job ranting about the bastardization of this particular quote than I can at this hour.  I recommend checking out her post if I’ve piqued your interest.  

The point is, while I don’t generally like telling people to “educate themselves” and don’t want to sound condescending and self-righteous, sometimes I feel compelled to advise other people to “do better”.  And that is what happened right after I opened my eyes this morning.

Those of you who read yesterday’s post may remember my admittedly long-winded rant about how many people on the Life is not all pickles and hairspray Facebook page repeatedly misspelled the acronym, HIPAA, as they each declared their expertise about this law.  I got to the point at which I felt like I had to be “that person”, and I posted this:

It’s HIPAA, not HIPPA. Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996. 

Although I knew very well that I was right about the way the acronym is correctly spelled, I did take the time to look it up, just to be sure.  It’s embarrassing when you try to correct someone and turn out to be wrong yourself.  I have done that before and learned from the experience.  When you have Google at your fingertips and a quick Web search takes a matter of seconds, it really pays to double check.  I also knew that my comment would annoy some people, so I wanted to be prepared for that.  People don’t like it when you correct them.  

Not surprisingly, there were others, like me, who had been suffering in silence.  At this writing, at least nine people “liked” that I posted the correction.  One person even went as far as to thank the first person (not me) who had correctly spelled the acronym, though didn’t call it out that people were getting it wrong.  

Also not surprisingly, I got one “who cares” response and another that claimed I was wrong.  The “who cares” response came from the page owner.  Frankly, I found her attitude disappointing, especially since members of the press follow her page.

Whatever, most of us know what it means. That’s the important thing.

I strongly disagree with this mindset, by the way.  There are good reasons for the concepts of “correct” and “incorrect”.  Words have meaning, and when you change words, you change meaning.  It can be as simple as conveying a different mood than was intended, or as serious as completely changing the message imparted.  See the above Maya Angelou quote for an example on that concept.

But then, someone who obviously did not take a second to look it up, posted this:

GRRR… it pisses me off when people are so very sure that they’re right when they’re clearly wrong, and it would only take a moment to check. I did edit my response, only to add that last bit about why it matters.

Maybe my being irked about this makes me anal retentive.  We all have reasons for being the way we are.  I am compulsive about words (and a number of other things, but that’s beside the point).    

On the other hand, it’s irksome when someone tells me I’m wrong when I know I’m right.  Not only did I know I was right before I posted, I actually took the time to look it up before I commented.  And with just a quick Web search, the commenter insisting that “HIPPA” is correct could have spared me from feeling the need to insist that I’m right, and advising them to look it up.  I don’t enjoy looking anal retentive and holier than thou, and yet, I couldn’t bring myself to let this slide.  

I can see why commenting on this makes me look picky and annoying.  But then, I find it annoying when people claim to be knowledgeable about something, yet don’t even get the terminology right.  Especially when all they have to do to verify is a quick check on an official Web site, like the one run by the Department of Health and Human Services.  Am I less entitled to be annoyed than the next person?  I don’t think so. 

I also think that the whole HIPAA argument, as it pertains to John David Duggar’s potential hospitalization, is mostly irrelevant.  The fact is, the people involved in John David’s medical care are beholden to HIPAA.  Friends and relatives who might spill the beans about his alleged hospitalization are not.  Either way, I personally don’t really care if he was in the hospital.  If he was, and the show’s producers and/or Boob want the public to know about it, it will probably come out in a forthcoming episode of the super boring show, Counting On, or it will be covered by People magazine.  

I know it’s just Facebook.  I know I probably need professional help, or at least a life.  I just felt like I needed to get this off my chest. Thank you for indulging me, and, for the love of GOD– look it up!

Then watch this hilarious video…

And here are the original comments from that piece in 2018:

AlexisARDecember 23, 2018 at 9:24 AM It’s a good strategy to look something up before correcting someone whenever it is practical to do so. Anyone’s memory can have a brief malfunction. Looking it up first saves a person the indignity of looking very silly.

Sometimes when one is working in a group setting, as in for presentations, someone in the group is insistent upon spelling a word incorrectly when doing so would make everyone in the group [and not just the person who insisted upon the incorrect spelling] appear ignorant. Most of us have phones with Internet access on us almost all the time now, so it’s not so hard to do. A lady in the city where I lived from the ages of nine until sixteen still hates my mom because my mom insisted that “potato” did noy have an “e” on the end (the lady was apparently plenty old enough that she should have remembered the Dan Quayle debacle, which even I know about, and it happened before I was born) when they were creating posters for a PTA-sponsored event. I wasn’t a big fan of Dan Quayle after the fact, but that particular fiasco was the fault of whatever teacher incorrectly spelled “potato” on the list of words to be used for the spelling bee. 

I find it somewhat outrageous that anyone would claim expert status or expertise concerning a set of regulations commonly referred to with an acronym when said person knew neither the correct spelling nor the words represented by the letters of the acronym. The fact that these people are citing laws that are likely irrelevant to the disclosure of John David Duggar’s recent hospitalization lends further credence to the idea that the HIPAA/HIPPA “experts” aren’t quite so knowledgeable as they claim to be.

Misspelling an acronym that is the subject of a debate is not the same as committing a typographical error when typing the word “because” in the same argument. I think the point went over Pickles’ head.

  1. Thomas WikmanDecember 23, 2018 at 12:20 PM There is nothing wrong with correcting people’s mistakes, especially if they insist that you are wrong. I don’t mind it. People who mind need to learn to take corrections the right way anyway (humbly and appreciative).
    1. knottyDecember 23, 2018 at 2:53 PM Right. I would rather be corrected than keep making the same mistakes over and over again.
  2. dleDecember 23, 2018 at 2:19 PMOh, I am with you 100% on this. People can think I’m a nitpicker all they want, but the seemingly small details matter. And if people can’t get the small things right, that really makes me inclined to question anything else they have to say. I am so tired of hearing people refer to the FAFSA form for college aid by calling it the FASFA. And there is an animal shelter in my area called SICSA (Society for Improvement of Conditions for Stray Animals), yet most people call it SISCA….geez people!! 
    1. knottyDecember 23, 2018 at 2:54 PM Yeah… you’d think they could get five little letters right, especially when they are claiming to be an authority.
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celebrities, lessons learned, music, musings, obits, YouTube

The first day of 2022…

I hope everyone enjoyed their New Year’s Eve 2021. Bill and I had a nice evening, marred only by the news that the great Betty White passed away. A lot of people reacted to the news of Betty’s New Year’s Eve demise with great sadness. She was a remarkable woman who was blessed with so much talent, beauty, and humor. When I think of how many people were touched by her, it almost overwhelms me. This was a lady whose career spanned many decades and generations, and she did it all– singing, dancing, acting, sales pitching, and especially comedy. She was the oldest Golden Girl, and the last one to leave us.

She was such an adorable and hilarious pro! God bless her, wherever she is… I hope she and her beloved husband, Allen Ludden, have finally reunited.

I loved Betty White as an entertainer. I admired her a great deal. However, I don’t feel particularly sad that she died, nor do I think of it as a tragic event. I think, as living and dying go, Betty White did it in grand fashion. As far as I know, she wasn’t seriously ill when she passed. In fact, she was even featured on People magazine’s cover this week, as she planned to celebrate her 100th birthday on January 17th. She was still “with it”, and not bed bound. Yes, it would have been wonderful if she could have celebrated one last birthday, but 99 years is still a hell of a good run. What happened to her eventually happens to us all… and she had the good fortune to do it on relatively favorable terms.

I think this one was my favorite! Betty’s dusty muffins could not be matched.

So no, I’m not totally saddened by Betty White’s death. She died the same year as several of her co-stars on the Mary Tyler Moore show, as we also lost Gavin McLeod, Ed Asner, and Cloris Leachman in 2021. And all of them lived to ripe old ages, having been able to work, play, and be in the world pretty much the entire time. We should all be so lucky… and in fact, I think we’re all lucky that we were alive at the same time she was.

*Giggle* She was so funny!

MOVING ON…

A lot of people were also mentioning how much 2021 sucked. I’m sure it really did suck for a lot of folks. COVID-19 has really screwed up normal living for so many. However, one good thing I have noticed about the COVID era is that some people are reprioritizing their lives. Yesterday, I read an awesome Reddit thread called “Twas the night before my resignation”, about a guy who decided some years ago that he no longer wanted to prioritize his career over his family. He started taking off the week between Christmas and New Year’s. In 2021, as usual, he scheduled that week off.

At the end of the year, a work emergency came up. It wasn’t something that should have affected his time off, and he did what he could to warn his employers that he would be taking that week off. But, as it happens, the company dragged its feet and the emergency, quite predictably, became dire as the guy’s week off approached… For best results, you really should read it for yourself. Suffice to say, the guy pretty much told his boss to pound sand, and was richly rewarded for his moxie. And to that, I say, “Kudos, and fuck those people!” I hate it when employers treat their employees like they own them. It’s nice to see that some workers have been able to claim some control over their work environments. I hope this is a trend that lasts, so that working conditions will improve for everyone.

I know… maybe it’s too much to hope for that there will be less greed and corruption in the American workplace. But I can dream, can’t I? Hell… if I were in the USA now, maybe someone would even hire me!

Bill and I actually had a fairly good 2021, in spite of COVID’s suck factor. We finally resolved our lawsuit, and it mostly went in our favor. I know it may seem like a small thing, but holding our former landlady accountable for her egregiously illegal actions, outright lies, and the really crappy way she treated us, was very satisfying. I think we learned a lesson from it, too. Hopefully, that lesson will carry over the next time someone tries to screw with us and shame us into automatically allowing them to have their way.

In 2021, Bill finally started working with a Jungian analyst, which is something he’s been wanting to do for a long time… and something I’ve felt he’s needed to do the whole time I’ve known him. The sessions have been very healing for him, but they’ve also been immensely rewarding and interesting. I didn’t know anything about Carl G. Jung when Bill and I met, despite my background. Social workers do study psychology, but it’s not really the bulk of what we learn, since social work is not psychology, per se. It’s been fascinating to learn more about Jung, and help Bill learn more. He’s been so intrigued by the process that he even started taking classes at the Jung Institute in Zurich. So far, the classes have been online, but we did get a chance to visit Zurich for the first time last summer. If we manage to stay here awhile, he may get to do some serious work.

As for my own successes… I’ve watched my relaunched blog explode. In 2021, I had over 560 times the hits I had in 2020, which was much more successful than 2019, when I moved my blog to WordPress. It really is picking up, and that’s been exciting to see, even though it took some time.

I felt pretty much forced to relocate the blog from Blogspot, although I had kind of wanted to do it for a long time. It was difficult and a bit depressing to start over in February 2019. I had a decent following on the original blog, even though it was a bit rawer than this one is. Moving the blog meant losing followers, as well as ad revenue. It’s not that I make a lot of money at all through ads, but it was kind of a nice thing to occasionally get paid by Google.

Well… that pretty much ended with a thud when I moved the blog, and for quite some time, I felt really constrained and nervous about writing. I know some people don’t think I have any talent… and some people think writing is a waste of my time, so they think nothing about messing with what I do… and some people just plain don’t like me, and want to cause trouble for me for selfish and dishonest reasons. This blog is NOT my life, but it is something I enjoy creating, and it gives me a purpose. So it was hard for me in 2019, when I experienced the setback that caused me to have to start over.

Two years later, I think my blog is better than it ever was. And I’ve been rewarded with new followers, and yes, more ad revenue. I only monetized the blog a few months ago, but pretty soon, I’ll be eligible to be paid. And I can only expect that this blog will be more successful than the original blog was, in terms of money, and quality content. The travel blog is a bit down in views lately, but hopefully COVID-19 will eventually be tamed enough so we can travel again. And really, I mainly write this stuff for myself, anyway, so anyone who reads and enjoys it is just icing on the cake.

I also found a new person with whom I can do music collaborations. In fact, I even uploaded our latest effort this morning! Music is something I do for fun and relaxation, so this is a rewarding development, too…

He lives in the States. We’ve never met, but we have similar musical tastes.

Another great thing that happened in 2021 was that Bill and I finally got to visit Croatia, and pay another visit to Slovenia. I already knew Slovenia was beautiful, but Croatia was magical. Although we didn’t have an “action packed” vacation in the fall, it was still probably one of my favorite trips yet. Just the sheer beauty of Croatia and Slovenia, as well as the time we spent in Austria (another favorite destination) was so awesome. I guess COVID has also made me a lot more grateful for ANY travel. Thank God for vaccines, too. I will be boosted in a few days, which may cause temporary discomfort, but will likely make my chances of dying from COVID lower.

We got to see a few friends, and make a few new friends… and the old friends who are real friends are still with us. We also didn’t lose any loved ones in 2021. In fact, in 2022, Bill will presumably gain another grandchild. And… our beloved Arran and Noyzi are still alive. Noyzi has even become a real part of the family, right down to loving on me when he wants something and showing up fashionably late to dinner! So that’s a blessing.

I have high hopes for 2022… I hope you do, too. To those of you who have been part of this blog, thank you so much! I especially want to thank my friends who have been here since the beginning. You are all a big part of the success, too!

2021 didn’t suck for us… but I know some people are really struggling right now. I don’t know what words of wisdom or comfort I can share. One friend mentioned how bad 2021 was, and I mentioned that I thought 2016 was worse– at least in terms of lost legends. She responded that she’d had a rough time of it in 2021, and compared 2021 to a few other horrible years she’d experienced.

I knew she’s been having a hard time, so I acknowledged that. And then I remembered one of my worst years ever– 1998. If I’m honest, there were a few times during that year that I seriously contemplated suicide. I was dealing with moderately severe depression, and I didn’t see how I was ever going to escape the situation I was in. It was NOT a hopeless situation by any means– which I clearly proved. But at the time, it felt hopeless… and my perspective was so blurred by depression and anxiety that I couldn’t see beyond the fog of despair and despondency.

But some very good things also happened that year. Yes, I was working in a restaurant job where I was abused daily, and I lived with my parents, who were kind of hostile and disappointed in me. I was young and basically healthy, but felt unattractive and unsuccessful. That year, I backed into some lady’s car in our driveway, because I was so upset… and that accident led me to finally seeing a therapist. Dr. Coe helped me so much, and I was eventually put on antidepressants that changed my life. To this day, I no longer feel as horrible as I did for most of my young life.

I eventually got pretty good at the restaurant job, and was able to make enough money to pay for the therapy and save up for an apartment. I bought a car. I had a terrible setback in November 1998– in fact, that was probably one of the worst months of my life. And yet, two months later, the medication was finally correct, and I started getting my shit together… and by November 1999, I was in a dual degree master’s program, proving to myself that I wasn’t as stupid or worthless as I had felt a year prior. That was also the month I “met” Bill online. By November 2002, we were married! And now, 19 years later, here we are… In 2022, I’ll presumably turn 50, and we will celebrate 20 years married.

So it’s good that I didn’t give in to my urges to off myself back in 1998. That would have meant missing out on some really wonderful things. That “abusive” job also led to meeting some truly great friends and learning valuable life and survival skills. In the long run, that turned out to be a good thing, too, despite the suffering that happened when I was still in that situation.

My point is, sometimes what seems like the shittiest times can lead to some pretty wonderful recoveries. So if you are struggling right now, I urge you to hang on as best you can. It can, and probably will, get better. But I also know that those words ring hollow when a person is really suffering. So just know, there are people who really do care, and have been through it, too… You’re probably more like them than you know… unless, of course, you’re Josh Duggar or Ghislaine Maxwell. Those two probably won’t be enjoying life for awhile.

And, with that bit of “wisdom”, I’m signing off for today… Got a few chores to take care of, and then it’s time to watch movies and concerts.

Happy New Year, everybody!

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book reviews, celebrities

A review of Rememberings: Scenes from My Complicated Life, by Sinead O’Connor

Until very recently, I was not one of Sinead O’Connor’s fans. I remember being in high school when she burst onto the music scene, scoring a smash hit with her cover of Prince’s “Nothing Compares 2 U”. I was aghast by her shaved head and hauntingly beautiful green eyes. I was astonished by her powerful, raw, emotional vocals. But, for some reason, I never bought her albums. It could be because I had little money for music in those days, so what little I did have, I spent on people I really loved listening to, like Kate Bush. I was, and still am, a Kate Bush fanatic.

Still, I watched Sinead O’Connor’s antics, which came to a head in 1992 when she was the musical guest on Saturday Night Live. She made huge waves when she tore up a photo of Pope John Paul II on live TV. She immediately became a pariah and I’m not sure New Yorkers have forgiven her yet, even after all this time. Personally, when I think about all the furor that arose over Sinead’s decision to tear up that photo, all I can do is shake my head. We tolerated a sexually abusive, narcissistic, criminal moron like Donald Trump as our president for four years and people are still clamoring for him to be the president. Yet Sinead tears up a picture of the Pope, and her career goes straight down the shitter… temporarily, anyway.

Seriously? People hated Sinead O’Connor for this? It just seems so ridiculous now.

I don’t know what made me purchase Rememberings: Scenes from My Complicated Life, which was just released on June 1st. I didn’t even own any of Sinead O’Connor’s music until I started reading her book. Well… I did own a few songs she sang on compilation albums. She did a beautiful version of “Sacrifice” by Elton John on the Two Rooms tribute album. I prefer her version to the original, actually…. and I like to sing that one myself. I also have her version of Dolly Parton’s song, “Dagger Through The Heart”, which, in her book, O’Connor writes is one of her favorite songs. She writes that after she recorded her version, Dolly wrote her a lovely thank you letter. Sinead had it framed and gave it to her beloved stepmother, Viola. That’s another reason why I like Sinead. She loves her stepmother. Also, my great grandmother’s name was Viola, although I never had the chance to know her.

Because of Sinead’s book, I have bought several of her albums and am wondering what took me so long. Sinead O’Connor is a wonderful singer and, based on her book, I think she’s a pretty marvelous person, too. She’s certainly a good storyteller, even if her writing isn’t always grammatically perfect, as a British friend pointed out when I delightedly shared one of Sinead’s anecdotes on Facebook. I like Sinead’s writing style. It’s engaging. I felt like she was sitting in a room, talking to me as if I was a friend. That’s the way I like to write, too.

I often laughed at Sinead’s stories, some of which are legitimately hilarious and outrageous. Some of her other stories were very moving. Others were infuriating. Overall, I came away with the idea that Sinead O’Connor is a very complex person who feels deeply and emotes freely. And yes, she also suffers from mental illness, of which she openly admits. I would imagine that Sinead O’Connor is probably not an easy person to be around, especially when her temper is flaring. But she’s probably just as often kind of awesome… especially when she’s smoked weed. Sinead is also a big pothead, which she also freely admits.

It’s not that often that I feel compelled to share quotes from my Kindle on social media. As I read Rememberings, I found myself sharing a number of Sinead’s musings. She writes that she actually started writing her book in 2015, but then had a full hysterectomy in Ireland due to endometriosis. Apparently, the doctors in Ireland did not prescribe hormone replacement therapy for Sinead; they just sent her home with a follow up appointment and a bottle of Tylenol. Her uterus and ovaries were removed, which sent her into instant menopause. She claims that caused her to go a bit bonkers. She also writes that musicians are naturally crazy– especially if they’ve also had head injuries, which she also claims she suffered when she was a child. I don’t know if that claim is true, although I do think that most creative people are a bit eccentric and weird on some level. God knows, people have called me “weird” my whole life. Below is a gallery of some of the more interesting quotes I found in Rememberings. I particularly loved her comments about Mormon missionaries and her story about the “plump old nun” who drew a picture of a penis with huge balls. That’s the kind of story I like to tell.

This made me laugh for hours.
So did this.
And this…
I relate to this.
And this… although my therapy sessions never involved anyone licking their balls.

Sinead O’Connor has definitely had an unconventional life, so there is truth in advertising in her book’s title. She has four children by four men, and she’s been married three times, although she only married one of her children’s fathers. Two of the men who fathered her children are still friends. The other two, she says would cross the street if they saw each other. She writes lovingly about her children… and she does seem to have great pride and affection for them. I do suspect that they’ve had their share of problems, though, because having a mentally ill parent, particularly one who is also a famous musician, is hard. But I don’t get the sense that Sinead is a narcissist, or anything. When Sinead O’Connor writes praises about her children, I don’t think she’s being fake. She openly acknowledges that they’ve had difficulties, in part, due to her career and her mental illness issues. She also suffered tremendous child abuse when she was growing up, and those traumatic experiences have no doubt affected her as an adult.

Sinead O’Connor talks about her book.

Sinead O’Connor has even had dealings with Dr. Phil, who put her in a treatment center. She was already being hospitalized when Dr. Phil stepped in, and being mentally ill, she decided to try his approach because he was “Dr. ‘fuckin’ Phil” and of course he could fix her. It turns out the people she saw at his behest were not helpful at all, and he basically exploited her for television. She says the psychiatrist at the first facility Dr. Phil sent her two offered her a fig bar, which immediately turned her off for some reason. She says fig bars are for “hippies”. It turns out the psychiatrist was a bit of a flake, and she kind of implies that Dr. Phil is in with the MAGA crowd, although he “faked” being disgusted with it. She offers a delightfully profane criticism of Donald Trump, and I wholeheartedly agree with her astute comments. She may have a mental illness, but she’s no dummy. Personally, I think Trump and Dr. Phil are cut from the same cloth.

Sinead on the psychiatrist and his fig bars…

This book also includes commentary about Sinead’s albums. She writes about her favorite songs, how she came to name her albums and songs she’s written, and why she made certain recordings. I appreciated the backstories to a lot of her music, many of which made me want to buy and listen to her songs. The other day, one of her songs came on my HomePod and I had never heard it before. It was a hilarious song called “Daddy I’m Fine”… and it just spoke to me. And I wouldn’t have heard it if I hadn’t read her book. I love that Sinead was so generous with her stories about how she created her music and the people who inspired her.

Love this.

Honestly, reading Sinead O’Connor’s book makes me want to visit Ireland again and hang out with funny people. Given that so much of my own ancestry is from Scotland, Ireland, and England, it stands to reason that I’d feel at home there. Alas, we can’t go anywhere near the UK or Ireland anytime soon, thanks to the fucking coronavirus. But I sure did enjoy reading Sinead’s book, even if she does seem oddly enamored of American culture and even American healthcare, which she seems to think is better than Irish healthcare. And maybe it is… who knows?

Anyway… I really liked Sinead O’Connor’s book, Rememberings: Scenes from My Complicated Life. I laughed; I sighed; I remembered things; I learned things; I became inspired… especially to spend money on music. Fortunately, Bill thinks music is a good investment. I know some people think Sinead O’Connor is “crazy”. And maybe she is… but at least she’s honest about it. I like her. I recommend her book. And now, I’m going to have to find the next book and hope it entertains me as much as Sinead’s has.

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book reviews, celebrities

Repost: A review of Going My Own Way by Gary Crosby…

Here’s a repost of a review I wrote on January 2, 2015. It’s about Going My Own Way, Gary Crosby’s tell all book on growing up as Bing Crosby’s son. It appears here as/is.

For years, I heard about the controversial book the late Gary Crosby, eldest son of the late Bing Crosby, wrote about his parents.  The book, titled Going My Own Way, was published in 1983 and was considered a “scathing” account of the reality of what it was like to grow up the son of a big Hollywood star who portrayed himself as the consummate family man.  I am a little too young for Bing Crosby, though I do remember the duet he did with David Bowie back in the 70s…

A classic duet circa 1977.

I didn’t actually see the Christmas special that spawned this version of “The Little Drummer Boy”, but over the years, the video has been replayed during the holiday season.  I also remember Mary Crosby, Bing’s daughter, who played Kristin Shepard on Dallas and was credited with shooting J.R. Ewing.  Aside from that, I only heard about Bing… and Bill has told me that a few years after Gary Crosby’s book came out, the late Phil Hartman, who was then on Saturday Night Live, did a spoof about how when Bing’s sons misbehaved, they needed to go have a “talk” in the library.

I was curious about the book and the cultural references to it, so I decided to purchase a used copy.  I recently finished reading Going My Own Way and, I must admit, it was very interesting.  As “scathing” memoirs go, I didn’t think it was all that bad.  Gary Crosby was Bing Crosby’s eldest son with his first wife, Dixie Lee.  He grew up in a huge house in Hollywood, surrounded by servants, many of whom were black.  Crosby’s mother was a strict disciplinarian and a serious alcoholic, who relied on an Irish nurse named Georgie to keep Gary and his brothers, Phil, Denny, and Lindsay, in line. 

Like his wife, Bing Crosby was also a very strict disciplinarian. He strongly believed in employing corporal punishment, strict rules, and verbal abuse to control his sons.  Crosby writes that it was difficult for him to have friends because his parents were so strict.  It wasn’t often that he was allowed to bring friends over to his home, or go to his friends’ houses.  Crosby’s parents were quick to remind their sons that they were not special simply because they were Bing Crosby’s sons.  Though they were educated at private schools, they were not treated differently and didn’t hang out with Hollywood types.  Indeed,  from the time the boys were eleven until they were adults, each summer Bing Crosby sent them to work at a ranch he owned.  They learned how to herd cattle and make hay bales alongside men of much more modest means.  Crosby writes that he hated the ranch work because his father forced him to do it, though he might have enjoyed it a lot more if he’d been the one who chose to go. 

Gary Crosby had a weight problem when he was growing up.  His backside was wide, which caused his father to refer to him as “bucket butt” or “satchel ass”.  According to Gary, Bing would even call his son these names in public, particularly in front of Bing’s friends.  Bing Crosby ordered his son to lose weight and would force him to endure weigh ins.  If he didn’t lose weight, Gary would get a whipping.   Bing used a belt that had metal studs in it and would beat his boys until they bled.  At the first drop of blood, the beating would stop.  Gary writes that he used to hope he’d bleed early.  

Bing Crosby and Gary Crosby perform together…

When Gary became a teenager, he had a strict curfew and would often have to leave social events early in order to appease his father, who would not hesitate to use a belt and verbal abuse to get his point across.  It wasn’t until Gary was 18 years old and had finally had enough that the whippings stopped.  By that time, his father had traded the belt for a cane.  I must admit, reading that part of the book resonated with me.  I had a similar experience with my own father, who was also a proponent of physical punishment and last struck me when I was almost 21 years old.  My father was also one to use verbal abuse…  indeed, reading about some of Crosby’s experiences rang very true to me, since my dad did a lot of the same things to a milder extent.  Crosby also writes about his father’s penchant for womanizing and drinking, as well as holding gifts over his sons’ heads in order to control them.  Gary Crosby had his own issues with alcohol and drugs, which he writes about in the book.  He also was one to get in fist fights when the mood struck.

Crosby uses a lot of slang and filthy language in his memoir.  Personally, I wasn’t offended by it.  In fact, the slang sort of gave the book a 50s nuance, which makes sense, since Crosby was born in the 30s and would have been a young person in the 50s.  I liked that he included photos, which helped me put faces to his stories.  I also got the sense that despite the abuse, he did love his parents, especially his mother.  He even writes a message to his other siblings, products of Bing Crosby’s second marriage to Kathryn Crosby, that the father he knew was not the same man as the father who raised them.  And Crosby even admits that his father passed along musical talent to him and the ranch work gave him useful skills outside of show business.  As one who has a perverse interest in Pat Boone’s career, I liked that Gary Crosby also writes about what it was like to work with Boone.  Apparently, Crosby thought Boone was a nice guy and easy to work with, despite his love of “clean livin’.”  Pat Boone, as we all know, is also a big believer in spankings.

Gary and Bing sing with Frank Jr.

Gary Crosby’s mother died in 1952 of ovarian cancer.  At the time of Dixie Lee’s passing, Gary was studying at Stanford University, where he wasn’t a particularly good student.  I was moved by how he described his father’s pained reaction to his mother’s deteriorating condition.  Yes, he writes a lot about how “the old man” abused him and his brothers, but he also somehow manages to give his father a human face.  That’s why I say the memoir wasn’t that scathing.  Yes, it was probably shocking to those who grew up with Bing Crosby and loved his music, but as someone who also grew up with an alcoholic and occasionally abusive father, I thought Gary Crosby was just being honest.  I think back in the 80s, when this book was originally published, corporal punishment and verbal abuse were much more accepted as normal parenting than they are now.  While I think sometimes Americans are going a little too far in the other direction with how they are parenting their children, as someone who experienced growing up with an alcoholic, I feel like Gary Crosby was very truthful in his account.  He was not just a whiner.   

Gary Crosby died in 1995 of lung cancer. He was 62 at the time of his death and had married three times. You can read a chapter of Going My Own Way here. Here is an article from a 1983 issue of People magazine about Gary’s book.

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