ah, the power of cheese

i don’t mean the literal foodstuff, cheese, though that clearly has it’s wonders and its merits.  no, kids, i refer to the sociological type of cheese.  and the creme de la creme of this cultural curd is, of course, B horror movies.

i have been traveling to and from cleveland almost non stop for the past three weeks, following a two week sojourn abroad for successive, long trade shows.  i have had almost no time to eat well, exercise or even relax.  i have been working my tail off (lo, only figuratively.  the midwest spread is apparently contagious).  i have been in back to back meetings whether in new york or the cleve.  spend most of my meal times in meetings or airports.  putting out fires, struggling with the inconsistencies and holes in communication flow that a new company has in spades.

the upshot is:  i’m exhausted.  drained.  knackered.  fried.  broke down. jacked up. sleepy, add your synonym here.

quick examples:

last week i excused myself to go to the restroom at a local , well-patronized bar and opened the door to the bathroom.  for a good twenty seconds i stood staring at the urinal, knowing it signaled that something was off, but unable to process what, exactly, the issue was.  as i slowly backed up, i noticed the ubiquitous stick figure representing the male of the species next to (oddly enough) the word “Mens.”  this prompted an epiphany to which the only response was to sidle five feet to the left and enter the more accomodating “Ladies” room.

i wrote a poll on my fantasy baseball team website in which i spelled the word “threw” as “t-h-r-o-u-g-h.”  for those you who know my fastidiousness when it comes to spelling and proper usage of english (including being seriously uptight about their, there and they’re as well as to, too, and two, you’re and your. it’s and its), you know this is not a favorable indicator of my personal mental health.

finally, i was offered the opportunity to be part of two things that would normally bring me untold joy: a subway series baseball game with best friends and a ricky gervais show with other close and wonderful friends.  i have bailed on both to lay in my bed, exhausted, in physical pain strong enough to make me cry, feeling quite sorry for myself.

there is only one thing that can take my mind off this pathetic personal failing:  a well spent $3.95 for a grisly,sufficiently acted, clever death scenes B horror movie.  My nirvana, my escape, my personal Calgon.

to which, friends, i must return as the peace it gives me is quickly fading. 

so please, don’t mock, but embrace the so-bad-it’s-good gen x philosophy; it is a salve to soothe the shattered soul.**

ok, that’s somewhat melodramatic, but i was going for alliteration and my options were limited


3 Responses to “ah, the power of cheese”

  1. 1 santoki 4 June, 2007 at 21:50

    I find that there is nothing quite as therapeutic as “Terms of Endearment.”

  2. 2 isosceles 23 June, 2007 at 20:17

    Wanna hear a funny story about Terms of Endearment? My mom LOVED Shirley MacLaine. She was her favorite actress. Made us (by us I mean me) watch Cat Baillou and anything else Ms. MacLaine was in from every era.

    So, when she found out she had cervical, uteran, and ovarian cancer when I was the ripe old age of eight (Lorla was 7), she took us to the movies to spend some time with us and put us at ease before we were shipped off to Aunt Judy’s and she went in to have surgery.

    I guess she was so frazzled and harried she didn’t do much research, and decided on a family film with her favorite actress. The plot of which just happened to be a divorced mother of three who ends up dying a slow, horrible, terribly sad death from pretty much exactly what my mom had.

    All I remember is my mom turning white halfway through and a panicked look growing on her face. Do we stay and see how (badly) this turns out or leave immediately. We stayed, I think, because she was afraid that if we left, Lorla and I would be completely freaked out, or that Lorla would catch on in the first place.

    Believe it or not, this qualifies as a funny story from my childhood and my mom and I laughed about it later several times.

    But you can understand why I’ve pretty much never seen it since.

  3. 3 santoki 24 June, 2007 at 02:13

    Remind me to run the next time you start off with “Wanna hear a funny story…” xxx

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s


“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”


Upon common theatres, indeed, the applause of the audience is of more importance to the actors than their own approbation. But upon the stage of life, while conscience claps, let the world hiss! On the contrary if conscience disapproves, the loudest applauses of the world are of little value - john adams
May 2007
« Apr   Jun »

from the man who taught me everything:

“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”



%d bloggers like this: