text:
Agent Provocateur Owner Seeking the Right Price to "Strip" Him of His High-End Lingerie Company
August 14, 2014 by Sabin Piso
Sexy and classy high-end lingerie company, Agent Provocateur, could fetch close to $337 million for 3i group, which owns a majority stake in the company. 3i has asked Goldsachs to open the kimono and run a potential sale of the chain.
Last year, Neiman Marcus and Saks were sold in multibillion dollar transactions. Agent Provocateur is looking to add to this short list of luxury retailers ready to sale their companies to investors. Investors are clamoring for the opportunity to take advantage of the sales, as wealthy customers are still willing to spend despite economic setbacks.
Agent Provocateur was birthed in London's Soho neighborhood. The company soon established itself as both a novelty and undergarment store and sells both sexy and saucy items. The owners unabashedly create alluring, but scantly clad advertisements that have been banned from television from time-to-time—only adding to the company's enticing reputation and mystique.
Now operating in 31 countries, from Hong Kong to Milan, the retailer earned itself over $6.3 million during its last fiscal year. That's more than double its earnings from the year prior.
As they look to continue their global expansion in locales that include San Francisco, Los Angeles, Toronto and Calgary, Agent Provocateur collaborated with A-list celebrities Penelope and Monica Cruz for their 2013 lingerie line. The July, 2013 launch of the collaborative efforts proved to be an enormous success, according to the directors of the esteemed company. The momentum from the 2013 lingerie line success carried the company into 2014.
Attesting to the company's continued success and appeal, to potential buyers, the directors of Agent Provocateur had this to say, "While the global economic outlook still remains unsettled, particularly in Europe, the directors are satisfied that the business is in a very robust position to move forward."
Filed Under: Noutati Sabin Piso Tagged With: 3i group, Agent Provocateur, Agent Provocateur for sale, Goldsachs opens the kimono, high-end lingerie, lingerie line, Neiman Marcus, Penelope Cruz, Saks, Sexy and classy high-end lingerie


The Iconic Charms collection was inspired by Louis Vuitton's most emblematic leather goods. Each charm is an exquisitely detailed replica in precious materials chosen to echo the colours of the original. This pink gold and rhodonite mini Alma bag can be worn on a bracelet or as a pendant.


Red Meets Blue worked with Riverview Church to define a new visual and brand identity for the organisation's future that could be driven forward by their in-house design and communications team.
As a multi-faceted organisation with various brands serving different functions, aligning the entire group to present a unified direction moving forward was key.
Through the Discovery process, a creative direction was determined before then being realised in Brand Development with a final brand identity that communicated the church's diversity, uniqueness and down to earth nature.
To complete the identity, as well as protect it into the future, a strong style guide was set in place with landmark documents created from which the brand could then be grown.
"Red Meets Blue listened carefully to what we were looking for and delivered exactly that. They've continued to provide excellent support after the launch of our brand"


VICTORIA, Texas — The City Council chambers usually feels quiet, and often a little stiff. Council members meet in the same chamber used by the municipal court judge, and it's apparent. Elected officials sit on a raised dais and feel far away from the public they serve.
The city's public library, on the other hand, has always felt more alive and more warm, filled with libraries and books. The city's one-branch library system feels open and welcoming, with big windows and taller ceilings than the council chambers. There always seems to be a soft murmur of pages turning and readers asking questions, even when there are few patrons there.
Covering local government means spending a lot of time in City Hall, and often, focusing on what's wrong in a community. It involves asking questions like: where are tax dollars being wasted, where are services being unequally distributed, what utilities or infrastructure need repairing, and where is government failing the citizens who depend on it?
In January, at a Victoria City Council meeting, a group of citizens showed up on a weeknight to defend the city's public library. They ardently and emotionally told elected officials that the library was great, that this particular public entity was functioning well, and that proposals from a council member that would have restricted access to the library were bad ideas.
Many children would have lost access to the library if the city council had approved a proposal to require ID for patrons.
Naomi Flonnory was one of multiple citizens who addressed elected officials during public comment, a typically quiet portion of Victoria's public meetings. Flonnory talked about growing up as a kid in Cleveland, and how visiting the library made her world feel bigger.
Her experience, and that of other residents who ardently defended the institution, was incredible testimony to witness. Residents were telling their elected officials that they loved this particular government service, and that they didn't want it to be changed. The passion and fervor with which residents spoke (Flonnory opened her remarks by telling the councilman in question, "I just think maybe you haven't been in a library in a while") was a really remarkable display of a small, but vocal, group of citizens telling officials that this small piece of government was working for them.
Part of the reason that residents were so invigorated during the meeting was, in part, due to an off-the-cuff remark a council member had made during an earlier discuss about whether the library should start a fine forgiveness program. During the discussion, the council member asked whether the library should collect credit or debit card information when people applied for a library card, and whether the library required photo ID upon entrance into the building.
Neither suggestion led to a formal proposal, but the comments were alarming to residents and experts alike, given that they'd prevent anyone without a credit or debit card, or anyone without a photo ID, from using the library's services. Such a proposal would essentially cut off young kids and residents who are homeless or in unstable financial situations from using the library.
Deborah Caldwell-Stone, the deputy director of the American Library Association's Office for Intellectual Freedom, told me in November that such a step would be highly unusual.
The entrance of Victoria's library.
Hearing Flonnory and others defend Victoria's library, but also libraries as an institution, was heartening to hear, particularly as libraries have emerged as one of the most promising antidotes to disinformation. Of the myriad challenges facing local news in 2019, the breakdown of ways for residents to get quality, accurate news about the community and world in which they live feels like the most daunting. Misleading and inaccurate information is making us sick, threatening our democracy, and spurring violence, and the tentacles of the problem often seem too far-reaching to correct.
The library is also, as sociologist Eric Klinenberg notes in his book Palaces for the People, one of only a handful of places in the U.S. where you can sit undisturbed, without an expectation to buy something or a time limit on how long you can stay there. As librarians have always known, the public space a library offers preserves a common ground that attracts diverse sectors of a community.
Seeing even a small group of people take time out of their schedules to defend a public service that has value for them sent an unambiguous message to Victoria's elected officials, particularly to those who don't use a service that they have been elected to regulate.
A patron at the front desk of the library.
Public libraries, like all public institutions, deserve scrutiny. The overwhelming show of support demonstrated in the City Council meeting for Victoria's public library in 2019 came after a 2017 reversal of policy in which the city decided to stop prosecuting residents with fines on overdue books in municipal court, a practice that's been denigrated by scores of residents and observers as an overreach of government power.
But hearing about Flonnory's faith in the public library system was a powerful display of trust, and rare opportunity to witness residents defending a service. It was also a rare moment where City Hall coverage felt a little hopeful, with residents describing how government worked for them, instead of how it failed them.
Ciara McCarthy is a Report For America corps member covering local government for the Victoria Advocate in Victoria, Texas.


I can understand if maybe you missed the big announcement on September 8.
Perhaps you were out apple-picking with your kids, or were getting ready for a hot date that night. Or maybe you failed to scroll through your entire Twitter feed that day.
On September 8, 2015, the Office for Human Research Protections (OHRP) of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services published in the Federal Register its Notice of Proposed Rulemaking on Federal Policy for the Protection of Human Research Subjects!
Have you totally fainted to the floor? Shall I administer some smelling salts?
Or better yet, perhaps I should explain what the heck this means, and why we should care.
This notice suggests revising the Common Rule, the federal policy protecting human subjects who engage in basic, translational, and clinical research. It has been codified in separate regulations by 18 federal departments and agencies. Our institutional review boards (IRBs) follow the Common Rule, as do our compliance committees.
Some of the suggested changes make a lot of sense. For example, improving informed consent documentation to facilitate the ability to understand these documents.
That's one of my favorites. Have you ever read through the 10 or 12 pages of an informed consent document? Have you ever read through those pages placing yourself in the position of a potential trial participant? Imagine you're 80 years old, you forgot your glasses at home because you didn't know you'd need them at the doctor's office, you're fasting because you thought the bloodwork the doctor was getting that day might require 12 hours of fasting, and you're also trying to absorb information about your cancer and treatment options while reading through these forms.
Have you ever wondered whether our patients truly understand the informed consent documents they sign, and thus are truly informed about potential risks, benefits, and alternative options?
I have, and I'm all for making informed consent easier to read and understand, even if our patients may not get the chance to absorb the fact that there is a less-than-1 percent chance that the investigational treatment might make the nail on their left big toe turn a shade of green.
Another change mandates a single IRB review of cooperative research conducted at U.S. institutions.
Again, I'm giving this one the green light. Cooperative group trials pass through multiple committees staffed by plenty of smart people before they ever reach our individual institutions. I've been the primary investigator on a couple of these studies and, in my experience, I was on conference calls every couple of weeks for months re-presenting my protocol to yet another committee for feedback about its design, endpoints, subject inclusion criteria, and the informed consent. The change proposed in the NPRM will eliminate redundant reviews and allow under-resourced institutional IRBs to focus on less-vetted research.
An additional suggestion would eliminate continuing review for certain minimal-risk studies. I'm going to take a moment now to shed a tear… I will miss those continuing review forms for chart reviews long-abandoned by internal medicine residents whose dedication to those nagging research questions evaporated as soon as the fellowship match results are announced, much like my kids seem to evaporate when I ask whose turn it is to clear the dinner table.
The proposed change widens the definition to include all biospecimens, regardless of identifiability, and to almost always require informed consent for secondary use of biospecimens.
Wait, what's that noise I hear? Are those the gears of research grinding to a halt?
You see, there are a few cancer centers around the country that have tried to be prescient in collecting and banking samples for future studies, anticipating that those studies will advance science, cure cancer, and a lot of other good things. This provision would still allow that – as long as broad, informed consent is obtained.
What it would not allow, however, is use of leftover tissue specimens, which are commonly obtained from pathology after a tissue diagnosis has been made, or from the hematology lab after blood counts have come in. The NPRM prohibits their use, even if those samples are de-identified and even though we don't need the excess tissue or fluids.
It sounds like one of those problems that some worrywarts far removed from actually conducting research or from working in a living, breathing cancer center thought in theory could bug a couple of people of the tens or hundreds of thousands whose samples might be available for valuable research over the next few decades.
For the record, in front of the ASH Clinical News readership and everyone, I would like to hereby give my consent for anyone to use my leftover tissue specimens. Go ahead. Have a party.
Wow – that was liberating.
Have you ever thought through what it would take to create the sort of broad consent that would be necessary to use leftover specimens in a large institution?
A couple of years ago, as a member of a task force at my institution, we developed the data and specimen flow diagrams, the interactions of automated and manual information systems, the infrastructure required to manage all of these data, the data- and specimen-tracking mechanisms, and the "opt-in" and "opt-out" contingencies for informed consent.
All of this can be yours for the low, low price of tens of millions of dollars. My institution doesn't have that kind of cash floating around, and I'm guessing that most reading this essay don't either.
Which means that institutions won't institute a process for broad consent for leftover tissue specimens, and, in turn, means that the research that has stemmed from those specimens – the advancement in the understanding of cancer and inroads into therapies for those conditions – won't happen.
As a society, do we appease the worrywarts to avoid the unknown possibilities? Or do we serve the common good of conducting the research that will cure disease?
I know how I'd vote.
The comment period on these proposed changes ends at 5:00 p.m. on January 6, 2016. Let OHRP know how you feel.
To weigh in on the changes proposed in the NPRM, visit www.hhs.gov/ohrp/humansubjects/regulations/nprmhome.html.


text:
namespace user_prefs {
class PrefRegistrySyncable;
}

// This is where handlers for protocols registered with
// navigator.registerProtocolHandler() are registered. Each Profile owns an
// instance of this class, which is initialized on browser start through
// Profile::InitRegisteredProtocolHandlers(), and they should be the only
// instances of this class.
class ProtocolHandlerRegistry : public KeyedService {

 public:
  enum HandlerSource {
    USER,    // The handler was installed by user
    POLICY,  // The handler was installed by policy
  };
  // Provides notification of when the OS level user agent settings
  // are changed.
  class DefaultClientObserver
      : public ShellIntegration::DefaultWebClientObserver {
   public:
    explicit DefaultClientObserver(ProtocolHandlerRegistry* registry);
    ~DefaultClientObserver() override;

    // Get response from the worker regarding whether Chrome is the default
    // handler for the protocol.
    void SetDefaultWebClientUIState(
        ShellIntegration::DefaultWebClientUIState state) override;

    bool IsInteractiveSetDefaultPermitted() override;

    // Give the observer a handle to the worker, so we can find out the protocol
    // when we're called and also tell the worker if we get deleted.
    void SetWorker(ShellIntegration::DefaultProtocolClientWorker* worker);

   protected:
    ShellIntegration::DefaultProtocolClientWorker* worker_;

   private:
    bool IsOwnedByWorker() override;

    // This is a raw pointer, not reference counted, intentionally. In general
    // subclasses of DefaultWebClientObserver are not able to be refcounted
    // e.g. the browser options page
    ProtocolHandlerRegistry* registry_;

    DISALLOW_COPY_AND_ASSIGN(DefaultClientObserver);
  };

  // |Delegate| provides an interface for interacting asynchronously
  // with the underlying OS for the purposes of registering Chrome
  // as the default handler for specific protocols.
  class Delegate {
   public:
    virtual ~Delegate();
    virtual void RegisterExternalHandler(const std::string& protocol);
    virtual void DeregisterExternalHandler(const std::string& protocol);
    virtual bool IsExternalHandlerRegistered(const std::string& protocol);
    virtual ShellIntegration::DefaultProtocolClientWorker* CreateShellWorker(
        ShellIntegration::DefaultWebClientObserver* observer,
        const std::string& protocol);
    virtual DefaultClientObserver* CreateShellObserver(
        ProtocolHandlerRegistry* registry);
    virtual void RegisterWithOSAsDefaultClient(
        const std::string& protocol,
        ProtocolHandlerRegistry* registry);
  };

  // Forward declaration of the internal implementation class.
  class IOThreadDelegate;

  // JobInterceptorFactory intercepts URLRequestJob creation for URLRequests the
  // ProtocolHandlerRegistry is registered to handle.  When no handler is
  // registered, the URLRequest is passed along to the chained
  // URLRequestJobFactory (set with |JobInterceptorFactory::Chain|).
  // JobInterceptorFactory's are created via
  // |ProtocolHandlerRegistry::CreateJobInterceptorFactory|.
  class JobInterceptorFactory : public net::URLRequestJobFactory {
   public:
    // |io_thread_delegate| is used to perform actual job creation work.
    explicit JobInterceptorFactory(IOThreadDelegate* io_thread_delegate);
    ~JobInterceptorFactory() override;

    // |job_factory| is set as the URLRequestJobFactory where requests are
    // forwarded if JobInterceptorFactory decides to pass on them.
    void Chain(scoped_ptr<net::URLRequestJobFactory> job_factory);

    // URLRequestJobFactory implementation.
    net::URLRequestJob* MaybeCreateJobWithProtocolHandler(
        const std::string& scheme,
        net::URLRequest* request,
        net::NetworkDelegate* network_delegate) const override;

    net::URLRequestJob* MaybeInterceptRedirect(
        net::URLRequest* request,
        net::NetworkDelegate* network_delegate,
        const GURL& location) const override;

    net::URLRequestJob* MaybeInterceptResponse(
        net::URLRequest* request,
        net::NetworkDelegate* network_delegate) const override;

    bool IsHandledProtocol(const std::string& scheme) const override;
    bool IsHandledURL(const GURL& url) const override;
    bool IsSafeRedirectTarget(const GURL& location) const override;

   private:
    // When JobInterceptorFactory decides to pass on particular requests,
    // they're forwarded to the chained URLRequestJobFactory, |job_factory_|.
    scoped_ptr<URLRequestJobFactory> job_factory_;
    // |io_thread_delegate_| performs the actual job creation decisions by
    // mirroring the ProtocolHandlerRegistry on the IO thread.
    scoped_refptr<IOThreadDelegate> io_thread_delegate_;

    DISALLOW_COPY_AND_ASSIGN(JobInterceptorFactory);
  };

  typedef std::map<std::string, ProtocolHandler> ProtocolHandlerMap;
  typedef std::vector<ProtocolHandler> ProtocolHandlerList;
  typedef std::map<std::string, ProtocolHandlerList> ProtocolHandlerMultiMap;
  typedef std::vector<DefaultClientObserver*> DefaultClientObserverList;

  // Creates a new instance. Assumes ownership of |delegate|.
  ProtocolHandlerRegistry(content::BrowserContext* context, Delegate* delegate);
  ~ProtocolHandlerRegistry() override;

  // Returns a net::URLRequestJobFactory suitable for use on the IO thread, but
  // is initialized on the UI thread.
  scoped_ptr<JobInterceptorFactory> CreateJobInterceptorFactory();

  // Called when a site tries to register as a protocol handler. If the request
  // can be handled silently by the registry - either to ignore the request
  // or to update an existing handler - the request will succeed. If this
  // function returns false the user needs to be prompted for confirmation.
  bool SilentlyHandleRegisterHandlerRequest(const ProtocolHandler& handler);

  // Called when the user accepts the registration of a given protocol handler.
  void OnAcceptRegisterProtocolHandler(const ProtocolHandler& handler);

  // Called when the user denies the registration of a given protocol handler.
  void OnDenyRegisterProtocolHandler(const ProtocolHandler& handler);

  // Called when the user indicates that they don't want to be asked about the
  // given protocol handler again.
  void OnIgnoreRegisterProtocolHandler(const ProtocolHandler& handler);

  // Removes all handlers that have the same origin and protocol as the given
  // one and installs the given handler. Returns true if any protocol handlers
  // were replaced.
  bool AttemptReplace(const ProtocolHandler& handler);

  // Returns a list of protocol handlers that can be replaced by the given
  // handler.
  ProtocolHandlerList GetReplacedHandlers(const ProtocolHandler& handler) const;

  // Clears the default for the provided protocol.
  void ClearDefault(const std::string& scheme);

  // Returns true if this handler is the default handler for its protocol.
  bool IsDefault(const ProtocolHandler& handler) const;

  // Initializes default protocol settings and loads them from prefs.
  // This method must be called to complete initialization of the
  // registry after creation, and prior to use.
  void InitProtocolSettings();

  // Returns the offset in the list of handlers for a protocol of the default
  // handler for that protocol.
  int GetHandlerIndex(const std::string& scheme) const;

  // Get the list of protocol handlers for the given scheme.
  ProtocolHandlerList GetHandlersFor(const std::string& scheme) const;

  // Get the list of ignored protocol handlers.
  ProtocolHandlerList GetIgnoredHandlers();

  // Yields a list of the protocols that have handlers registered in this
  // registry.
  void GetRegisteredProtocols(std::vector<std::string>* output) const;

  // Returns true if we allow websites to register handlers for the given
  // scheme.
  bool CanSchemeBeOverridden(const std::string& scheme) const;

  // Returns true if an identical protocol handler has already been registered.
  bool IsRegistered(const ProtocolHandler& handler) const;

  // Returns true if an identical protocol handler has already been registered
  // by the user.
  bool IsRegisteredByUser(const ProtocolHandler& handler);

  // Returns true if the scheme has at least one handler that is registered by
  // policy.
  bool HasPolicyRegisteredHandler(const std::string& scheme);

  // Returns true if an identical protocol handler is being ignored.
  bool IsIgnored(const ProtocolHandler& handler) const;

  // Returns true if an equivalent protocol handler has already been registered.
  bool HasRegisteredEquivalent(const ProtocolHandler& handler) const;

  // Returns true if an equivalent protocol handler is being ignored.
  bool HasIgnoredEquivalent(const ProtocolHandler& handler) const;

  // Causes the given protocol handler to not be ignored anymore.
  void RemoveIgnoredHandler(const ProtocolHandler& handler);

  // Returns true if the protocol has a default protocol handler.
  bool IsHandledProtocol(const std::string& scheme) const;

  // Removes the given protocol handler from the registry.
  void RemoveHandler(const ProtocolHandler& handler);

  // Remove the default handler for the given protocol.
  void RemoveDefaultHandler(const std::string& scheme);

  // Returns the default handler for this protocol, or an empty handler if none
  // exists.
  const ProtocolHandler& GetHandlerFor(const std::string& scheme) const;

  // Puts this registry in the enabled state - registered protocol handlers
  // will handle requests.
  void Enable();

  // Puts this registry in the disabled state - registered protocol handlers
  // will not handle requests.
  void Disable();

  // This is called by the UI thread when the system is shutting down. This
  // does finalization which must be done on the UI thread.
  void Shutdown() override;

  // Registers the preferences that we store registered protocol handlers in.
  static void RegisterProfilePrefs(user_prefs::PrefRegistrySyncable* registry);

  bool enabled() const { return enabled_; }

  // Add a predefined protocol handler. This has to be called before the first
  // load command was issued, otherwise the command will be ignored.
  void AddPredefinedHandler(const ProtocolHandler& handler);

 private:
  friend class base::DeleteHelper<ProtocolHandlerRegistry>;
  friend struct content::BrowserThread::DeleteOnThread<
      content::BrowserThread::IO>;

  // for access to InstallDefaultsForChromeOS
  friend class ProtocolHandlerRegistryFactory;

  friend class ProtocolHandlerRegistryTest;
  friend class RegisterProtocolHandlerBrowserTest;

  // Puts the given handler at the top of the list of handlers for its
  // protocol.
  void PromoteHandler(const ProtocolHandler& handler);

  // Saves a user's registered protocol handlers.
  void Save();

  // Returns a pointer to the list of handlers registered for the given scheme,
  // or NULL if there are none.
  const ProtocolHandlerList* GetHandlerList(const std::string& scheme) const;

  // Install default protocol handlers for chromeos which must be done
  // prior to calling InitProtocolSettings.
  void InstallDefaultsForChromeOS();

  // Makes this ProtocolHandler the default handler for its protocol.
  void SetDefault(const ProtocolHandler& handler);

  // Insert the given ProtocolHandler into the registry.
  void InsertHandler(const ProtocolHandler& handler);

  // Returns a JSON list of protocol handlers. The caller is responsible for
  // deleting this Value.
  base::Value* EncodeRegisteredHandlers();

  // Returns a JSON list of ignored protocol handlers. The caller is
  // responsible for deleting this Value.
  base::Value* EncodeIgnoredHandlers();

  // Sends a notification of the given type to the NotificationService.
  void NotifyChanged();

  // Registers a new protocol handler.
  void RegisterProtocolHandler(const ProtocolHandler& handler,
                               const HandlerSource source);

  // Registers protocol handlers from the preference.
  void RegisterProtocolHandlersFromPref(const char* pref_name,
                                        const HandlerSource source);

  // Get the DictionaryValues stored under the given pref name that are valid
  // ProtocolHandler values.
  std::vector<const base::DictionaryValue*> GetHandlersFromPref(
      const char* pref_name) const;

  // Ignores future requests to register the given protocol handler.
  void IgnoreProtocolHandler(const ProtocolHandler& handler,
                             const HandlerSource source);

  // Ignores protocol handlers from the preference.
  void IgnoreProtocolHandlersFromPref(const char* pref_name,
                                      const HandlerSource source);

  // Verifies if the handler exists in the map.
  bool HandlerExists(const ProtocolHandler& handler,
                     ProtocolHandlerMultiMap* map);

  // Verifies if the handler exists in the list.
  bool HandlerExists(const ProtocolHandler& handler,
                     const ProtocolHandlerList& list);

  // Erases the handler that is guaranteed to exist from the map.
  void EraseHandler(const ProtocolHandler& handler,
                    ProtocolHandlerMultiMap* map);

  // Erases the handler that is guaranteed to exist from the list.
  void EraseHandler(const ProtocolHandler& handler, ProtocolHandlerList* list);

  // Map from protocols (strings) to protocol handlers.
  ProtocolHandlerMultiMap protocol_handlers_;

  // Protocol handlers that the user has told us to ignore.
  ProtocolHandlerList ignored_protocol_handlers_;

  // These maps track the source of protocol handler registrations for the
  // purposes of disallowing the removal of handlers that are registered by
  // policy. Every entry in protocol_handlers_ should exist in at least one of
  // the user or policy maps.
  ProtocolHandlerMultiMap user_protocol_handlers_;
  ProtocolHandlerMultiMap policy_protocol_handlers_;

  // These lists track the source of protocol handlers that were ignored, for
  // the purposes of disallowing the removal of handlers that are ignored by
  // policy. Every entry in ignored_protocol_handlers_ should exist in at least
  // one of the user or policy lists.
  ProtocolHandlerList user_ignored_protocol_handlers_;
  ProtocolHandlerList policy_ignored_protocol_handlers_;

  // Protocol handlers that are the defaults for a given protocol.
  ProtocolHandlerMap default_handlers_;

  // The browser context that owns this ProtocolHandlerRegistry.
  content::BrowserContext* context_;

  // The Delegate that registers / deregisters external handlers on our behalf.
  scoped_ptr<Delegate> delegate_;

  // If false then registered protocol handlers will not be used to handle
  // requests.
  bool enabled_;

  // Whether or not we are loading.
  bool is_loading_;

  // When the table gets loaded this flag will be set and any further calls to
  // AddPredefinedHandler will be rejected.
  bool is_loaded_;

  // Copy of registry data for use on the IO thread. Changes to the registry
  // are posted to the IO thread where updates are applied to this object.
  scoped_refptr<IOThreadDelegate> io_thread_delegate_;

  DefaultClientObserverList default_client_observers_;

  DISALLOW_COPY_AND_ASSIGN(ProtocolHandlerRegistry);
};
#endif  // CHROME_BROWSER_CUSTOM_HANDLERS_PROTOCOL_HANDLER_REGISTRY_H_

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


Episode 160 Brett Crosby from PeerStreet & co-founder Google Analytics - PeerStreet is a marketplace that provides unprecedented access to high quality real estate loan investments.
In this episode the host John Siracusa chats with Brett Crosby from PeerStreet and co-founder of Google Analytics. Brett co-founded a company called Urchin software which was acquired in April 2005 by Google and morphed into Google Analytics.


text:
Kindred Stars discuss their twisted family dynamic | Pretty Reel
Octavia E. Butler's spectacular sci-fi novel comes to life in the new FX series Kindred, which premiered on Hulu. The 8-episode first season was adapted by showrunner Branden Jacobs-Jenkins, who spent several years vying for the opportunity. The seminal work of fiction is about time travel, but it's also a raw look at America's legacy of slavery and how its effects have endured to the present day. Of course, when Butler wrote the novel, it was in the '70s, so Jacobs-Jenkins updated the half-century modern script.
Kindred follows Dana James (prowess played by newcomer Mallori Johnson), an aspiring writer who recently moved to Los Angeles for a fresh start. However, her family does not welcome her with open arms and she finds herself violently dragged into the harsh environment of an Antebellum plantation. As she travels back and forth in time, she learns that the cruel Weylins (played by Gayle Rankin of GLOW and Ryan Kwanten of True Blood) are bonded to her in ways she never could have imagined.
. spoke to Rankin and Kwanten about Thomas and Margaret's deeply unhappy marriage, their own connection to the Kindred source material, and the time period they would travel to if they had to choose.
Gayle Rankin and Ryan Kwanten in Kindred
.: Did any of you know Kindred when you first took on this role? What struck you the most in the script's interpretation of the story?
Ryan Kwanten: Familiar, yes, but in the sense that you read something once and it affects you. But when you live and breathe characters like us, you want to dive a little deeper. So you read it again, and you take notes with your highlight, and you kind of get what you need out of it.
We were lucky in this case that it was almost an embarrassment of riches to have the book as a resource, but then to have Branden who so wonderfully and beautifully channeled Octavia's work into eight hours of gripping television. And his dialogue was so easy to learn. This for me is always a catch point; if I can learn a lot of dialogue in a short time, that usually means the character is speaking through me. And Branden has such beautiful lyrical prose for him; it was a real treat.
Gayle, aside from who your characters are and your position in society, House Weylin doesn't seem very happy. How does Margaret feel about her respective position in this household, given her husband and his relationship with their son?
Gayle Rankin: I think she feels really unstable. She is a rather unbalanced, unstable, unmoored woman. And she reacts like this. She is a bit lost. You meet her at obviously different stages of her life, depending on how absorbed she is and [what] they crossed together as a couple and as a family. It's interesting, where we leave it at the end of the season, where it arrives and where it is pushed.
Ryan, while the Weylins' way of treating slaves is obviously unconscionable, it's interesting that Rufus mentions, "He doesn't treat me that much better." He also treats his family like property to some extent. What is his deal?
Ryan Kwanten: I think he has more affinity with ownership; to the plantation itself as a piece of land than he does to its inhabitants, including his family. And it's a bit of a sad situation. It comes from a man too proud to see the error of his ways.
His own righteousness gets in his way, and he's about as flawed as it gets. But he shows bravery for the good of society, and even for the good of his son. He has yet to believe that his son is capable of continuing this legacy he is building so vehemently. He can't help but think that Margaret is etching this legacy, and not in a good way, [which] favors a lot in family fights. And then you have the addition of this enigma that is Dana that also throws a spanner in the works, so Tom is like a wrecking ball.
I loved Sheila in GLOW, but I didn't recognize you in Kindred at first. It's so different, and you totally lose yourself in the role. What spoke to you about the role?
Gayle Rankin: That's good. Yeah, I kind of think that's my business card. I'm just responding to the material; to the character. I don't think there is any guideline or anything in the choices presented to me, because I'm so lucky to be able to do that. It's such a privilege, especially this kind of project, so I was thrilled to transform. We're both very different on the show, and I bleached my eyebrows. It was great.
Ryan Kwanten: You've done more than that. It was amazing. It was really amazing to play with her. There was so much fun to be had between the dialogues.
There's this great scene where Kevin is teaching our son Rufus to play the piano, and Rufus is giving this performance for the first time. The time came to decide where our characters want to sit, and we said, "Well, let's put them together on the two-piece couch." We just have to figure out how we will sit during these 15 to 20 minutes that pass; understanding that physics dynamics was so much fun. She's also kind of a physical extraordinaire. If there are eight people on screen, your eyes are naturally drawn to Gayle. She just has that X factor.
Gayle Rankin: I feel the same for him. It's fun to find a good partner and work with an actor who looks like, "Oh, it's really nice not to feel so weird. "We have such a different dynamic, which is really nice.
Obviously being trapped in a moment when you have no way out of where you are being treated very badly is not the idea of a good time. But if you could, for educational purposes, see another time period or place first-hand, what would it be?
Gayle Rankin: Maybe that would scare me, but in a way, I would like to get a glimpse of the future. I'm just going to be a bit general because I have a lot of fear about it and a lot of concern, but I think it's coming from a place of hope.
Ryan Kwanten: Yeah, probably the 70s for me. A small musical revolution.
About Kindred
As Dana, a young black woman and aspiring writer, begins to settle into her new home, she finds herself pulled back and forth in time, emerging on a 19th-century plantation and confronting secrets she did not know how to cross his blood.
Check out our other Kindred interviews here:
All 8 episodes of Kindred are currently streaming on Hulu.
We would love to say thanks to the author of this post for this amazing web content
Check out our social media accounts as well as other related pageshttps://kjovi.com/related-pages/
Why The Boys Record Their Harshest Reviews For Thor (Not…
10 actors who surprised audiences with their singing,…
"Dynamic Pricing": The Concert Ticket Sales Strategy That…
10 Scariest Stand Abilities In JoJo's Bizarre Adventure,…
Hulk is the only reason Ghost Rider became a superhero |…
10 Best Songs Featured In Adam Sandler Movies | Pretty Reel
Categories Musicians Tags discuss, Dynamic, family, Kindred, pretty, reel, stars, twisted
The beautiful gesture of Valeria González with the health personnel who care for her mother, Hilda Siverio
How "fake streams" are disrupting online music

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


September, for many, marks the real start of the season.
This is especially true for western hunters where elk, bear, antelope, and deer all open up essentially at the same time, making for one hectic month!
In the September issue we try to cover the highs (and lows) of the various species in our annual forecast — something we have done for years, giving hunters the straight scoop on what to expect in the coming season.
The good news is that big-game numbers are on the upswing, and as long as crooked politicians don't succeed in "transferring" federal lands to vocal, disgruntled states (disposing of your hunting lands for good), opportunities for DIY hunters on public lands will still be good in 2016.
All that said, we are still seeing stagnation in numbers of hunters. While the last USFW survey showed a slight uptick in license sales, overall the number of hunters hasn't changed very much. Why is this? The answer depends upon whom you ask.
It's lack of opportunity, shifting demographics to a more urban society, a societal pressure against hunting, the high cost to get involved. I'm sure all these answers have validity, but I believe it is much simpler than that. I believe some of the decline is due to laws and regulations being so complicated that most new hunters, youth or adult, have no idea where to begin.
We recently received a letter (published in this issue) asking, "How can one start hunting?" Unfortunately, the answer is not simple: find a local Hunter Education class, sign up for it months in advance, attend several hours of courses, take a test, then go out and buy a license.
That's just to get started.
Where to hunt, how to hunt, how to find public land, how to clean an animal if one is successful, etc., are such complicated topics that I can't imagine jumping into the sport if I didn't have a father to show me the ropes. This all comes back to mentoring — something that is required if we are going to get new hunters involved in the sport.
Luckily, some states have recognized this problem and have actually implemented programs to simplify the process. Fully 35 states have passed legislation or currently offer some sort of mentored hunting program where first-time hunters can delay going through Hunters Ed. provided they are hunting with a licensed hunter.
"To do your part this season, make it a point to find a new hunter and take them out. It is good for the future of our sport, it is necessary for the new hunter'¦"
Essentially, it is a "try before you buy" system that reduces the barriers to entry. Much of the thanks for this push can be attributed to the Families Afield program — a joint partnership between NSSF, National Wild Turkey Federation, and the Sportsmen's Alliance that was started in 2004 and to date has brought over one million first-time hunters into the sport.
Some states have taken this mentoring program even further to encourage first-timers to get involved.
Take Idaho, for example: Of all the states that have actually set up some sort of a hunter mentor program, Idaho, in my opinion, has set the gold standard with its Hunting Passport program. In a nutshell, any first-time hunter (over eight years of age) from any state who has never had a hunting license qualifies for it.
You can buy a license for only $1.75 (and tags for non-resident youth can be obtained at resident youth pricing), without any Hunter Education course, with no maximum age (meaning first-time adults are encouraged to participate) as long as you are hunting with a mentor.
to be successful when they go on their own.
This program gets people into hunting easily, learning the ropes firsthand from an experienced hunter. If the newbies like the sport, they can then take Hunter Education, buy a license, and head out on their own.
I can't think of a better program to help bolster our ranks, and more states should adopt a similar system. To do your part this season, make it a point to find a new hunter and take them out. It is good for the future of our sport, it is necessary for the new hunter, and more likely than not, it will be enjoyable for you as well.


text:
Q: Do the non-human races of the Galaxy regard humans as physically unattractive or mentally inferior? Dr.  McCoy often calls Mr. Spock "pointy eared", and it isn't a term of admiration.  Have any non-human characters made disparaging remarks about
the physical appearance of humans or their behavior? For example, have Klingons called humans slippery-browed runts, or Trills called humans blank-faced half-persons or Vulcans called humans midget-eared hysterics?  Even if such racial slurs are not used at the Starfleet level, is there any evidence that they occur among the general populace?

A: From ST:TOS "Let That Be Your Last Battlefield" - Commissioner Beal, speaking to Loki (Lokai?), refers to the crew in passing as 'monochromatic trash'.
From ST:TOS "Devil in the Dark" - The head of the mining team says that the Horta aren't so bad-looking once you get to know them; Spock then says that the mother Horta said virtually the same thing to him during the mind-meld - that 'she found humans unattractive, but though she could get used to them'.
From ST:TNG S1:17 "Home Soil" - The silicon natives describe humans as 'ugly bags of mostly water':

A: ST: TNG - Season 1:5 - The Last Outpost:
Daimon Tarr (Ferengi) makes a few references to his views on human appearance:

TARR [on viewscreen]: Yes. The ugliness of the human was not an
  exaggeration.

later

TARR [on viewscreen]: Your alien images again shock us.

A: B'Etor (in TNG: Generations) expresses disgust at seeing Beverly Crusher's face up close.

B'ETOR: Human females are so repulsive.

Seska (in VOY: Basics) felt that our foreheads were decidedly inadequate, at least by Cardassian standards.

SESKA: Hello, everyone. What do you think of your son, Chakotay? He has your eyes, don't you think? Thank goodness he doesn't look
  too human. You all have such weak foreheads.

Armus (TNG: Skin of Evil) is quite unenamoured with our general physique.

ARMUS: You overrate your gift. You humans are puny, weak.

Worf (in DS9: Let He Who Is Without Sin) is very aware of our physical limitations

WORF: Which only makes it worse. Compared to Klingons, humans are fragile creatures.

A (holographic) Klingon expresses his true feelings about humans in Voy: Real Life.

LARG: I told you. Humans are weak, cowardly.

The Velaran "microbrains" from TNG: Home Soil clearly find us repugnant.

VOICE: Ugly, ugly giants bags of mostly water

A: Commander Shran (ENT) and other Andorians frequently call humans 'pinkskin' throughout the series. Only once does Shran stop himself and say 'human' instead.
Captain Solok, a Vulcan, also made it a personal mission to embarrass and humiliate Captain Sisko throughout his career, taunting him by calling him over-emotional and out of control. This during DS9 episode "Take me out to the Holosuite" (S7E04). Most Vulcans make it a point to call humans over-emotional (Tuvok to everyone, Spock to Kirk and McCoy, Ambassador Soval to every human he meets).

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


text:
Ditaeniella is een vliegengeslacht uit de familie van de slakkendoders (Sciomyzidae).

Soorten
D. grisescens (Meigen, 1830)

Slakkendoders

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


text:
MONICA MEREDITH
Candidate: Circuit Family Court; Circuit 55, Division 3
Counties: Bullitt
www.Vote4Monica.com
Official Facebook: Monica Meredith for Family Court Judge
Candidate Interview
1. In your career, have you ever woken up in the middle of the night and wished you had handled a case or legal issue differently? Describe the situation and any lessons you learned from the experience.
I believe that every single one of us has an 'ah ha' moment where they believe they could have done anything a little differently. What I have learned from life is that these thoughts
do not necessarily mean that the outcome would have been any different. I have learned to trust my initial thoughts, to recognize when those thoughts are/were inaccurate, and to adjust accordingly. I think that's the most any of us can hope for.
2. Give an example of a circumstance where you faced an ethical dilemma or problem and explain how you solved it.
Anytime I believed I have faced an ethical dilemma relating to a legal matter, I consulted the Ethics Hotline provided by the Ky Bar Association and requested a written opinion. When needed, I provided the written opinion to opposing counsel and the Court if requested.
3. What do you believe are the most important qualities of a judge, and how has your professional background and life experience helped you develop those qualities?
On my website I have an article titled "What We Need in a Family Court Judge." I believe this article details the characteristics I feel are necessary to be an effective Family Court Judge. As for my personal background, life experiences etc.: Over the course of my 22 years practicing law, I have handled many different kinds of cases in very different courtrooms and legal environments, both at the federal and state level. I have represented thousands of individuals and businesses, moms and dads, children and grandparents, aunts and uncles, and the list goes on. One thing I can say for sure is that family court matters are unique. Divorce, separation, domestic violence, and parental responsibility cases all involve some of the most intimate and emotional aspects of an individual's personal lives. When you accompany these types of cases with the demands of maintaining a court docket, family law matters can be some of the most intricate and complicated cases to resolve.
Family Court Judges must act with fairness and impartiality to all parties involved. Above all else, the Judge must follow the law. In order to uphold these principles, many family court issues require a judge to be familiar with more than family law statutes and case law.
In today's world, a Judge needs to be familiar with issues involving bankruptcy, criminal and civil law, taxes, contracts, estate planning and international treaties. The Judge also needs to be familiar with social work practices and dispute resolution alternatives. In a nutshell, it is my belief that a Family Court Judge needs to be a PROBLEM SOLVER and an
ADJUDICATOR.
4. As a potential judge, what do you consider to be your greatest strengths? Weaknesses?
I believe I bring the broadest experience to this office. I have worked in both federal and state court, on issues affecting all families. I also understand the role of the representation of abused and neglected children in the Family Court process—as I have twice been named the attorney for the child (guardian ad litem), 2006 & 2010, of the year by our local CASA volunteers.
5. What or who are the major influences in your life and why?
The major influences in my life, personal and professional, have been my parents. Both of my parents come from hard working, rural American households. My father was an only child of a school teacher and electrician. He grew up on a dairy farm in Edmonson County, KY. My mother was raised by a single parent with two other sisters on her grandfather's farm in Grayson County, KY. My grandmother retired from the State where she worked as a toll booth operator and spent many years as a commercial seamstress.
My parents have been married for 53 years. My father is a retired CSX Engineer and served in the Marine Corp during Vietnam. My mother is a retired Registered Nurse and school teacher. The work ethic, loyalty, and genuine caring about the other man that I possess comes from the both of them. I watched as a young child both of my parents work full time jobs; my mother graduate from college; my dad coach youth league sports that my brother and I participated in. Never once complaining, but rather, teaching that every family struggles and makes sacrifices for one another and expecting that their children will grow
up and do the same.
6. Have you witnessed any particular injustices inside or outside the courtroom and how did you respond to those circumstances? How will you respond to similar circumstances as a judge?
As a former prosecutor, I have witnessed events in a courtroom where it was clear, in my opinion, that decisions were made based on facts not in evidence. These decisions directly affected the individual lives of the litigants involved. If elected Judge, I will make every effort to make decisions based on the evidence before the Court in conjunction with the current law in the Commonwealth. A Judge must ensure that all court rules are complied with and that no party has an unfair advantage.
7. Who are your judicial role models and why?
I do not believe it ethical to comment on a specific sitting Judge. And I do not wish to refer to former Judges, even if they have passed or that I have never practiced in front of them, due to the fact that it could give a false impression of views that others may deem I personally hold.
8. Describe a circumstance where you took a difficult or controversial position and how you handled it.
I have handled many such circumstances during my legal career and do not believe it is appropriate to express my position on any particular area or position.
9. How would you describe your general judicial philosophy?
I will be fair and impartial, open-minded, and focused on treating everyone equally and fairly while following the laws of the Commonwealth of Kentucky.
10. What are some of the most significant challenges facing Kentucky's judicial system and how do you propose to address them?
Perhaps the biggest challenge facing the current judicial system in the influx of drugs into our homes and families. Bullitt County has independently sought resources to establish and operate a family court drug program for years. It is called Families Moving Beyond Abuse. The state does not fund this program. I would love to see the State shift resources to drug courts, as they are desperately needed. I have worked with our current FMBA program as a family court attorney, as a guardian ad litem, and as the former County Attorney. I believe I possess an excellent understanding of the current process and system and could help to support and perhaps, expand, our current program.
BACK TO CANDIDATES PAGE


text:
Get Real . . . It's Christmas!
It was 1969. Moon landing. Woodstock. Brady Bunch. A crazy year that inspired such toe-tapping tunes as "A Boy Named Sue," "Pinball Wizard" and "Jam Up and Jelly Tight."
"Hair" was on Broadway and the Best Movie of the Year was "Midnight Cowboy." Literary types were reading "The Godfather," "Portnoy's Complaint" and "Slaughterhouse Five." And the Mets won the World Series. Like I said . . . it was a crazy year.
Christmas of 1969 was a bit crazy for our family, too. It was the first time that we would spend Christmas far away from grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. Maybe that's why we had the "courage" to do what we did.
That year, all the glitz and commercialism of the season had somehow seeped into our psyches and we believed the TV ads that said we were hip. We were cool. We were groovy. No boring old-fashioned Christmas traditions for us. No-Sir-ee. So we did it. We bought an aluminum Christmas tree.
I'll never forget that day. We had gone to Sears to do some Christmas shopping, each of us with our own agendas. My little brother Steve and I had some cash left over from our allowances to buy gifts, while Mom and Dad were checking out prices in the toy section. As we rounded a corner in the home appliances department we saw . . . IT.
There before us was a six-foot-tall aluminum tree decorated with identical silver glass ball ornaments and a big glittery star on top. We stood in amazement as the tree changed color from yellow, to blue, to green, to red and back to yellow. These brilliant colors were created by a rotating color wheel attached to a large flood lamp on the floor.
A sign next to the tree read: As advertised on TV! Permanent Christmas Tree! Easy to set up! No pesky pine needles! No messy tinsel! No clumpy garland! No strings of tangled lights with burned out bulbs! Lifetime guarantee!
Steve and I looked at each other with huge grins on our faces, but before our pleading whines even began, Dad grabbed one of the boxed trees off the top of the nearby pile and we were on our way to the cashier.
That night while Dad assembled the tree, Mom made some hot cocoa. Steve was ready to plug in the flood lamp at Dad's command and I was sitting Indian-style on the floor munching on a sugar cookie waiting for the show to start. Perry Como started crooning "There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays" on the record player, and the scene was complete.
We watched as Dad stuck the individual branches into the tiny holes in the center of the silver-painted pole and before we knew it, the tree was up. Steve plugged in the lamp and the four of us watched our aluminum Christmas tree change color right before our eyes.
Mom made sure it was right in front of the big picture window in the living room. We wondered what it looked like from outside so we all ran out the door and stood on the sidewalk in front of the house. Our faces glowed as we watched the majestic display. Yes, we had the best tree on the block.
We were proud. We were exalted. We were on an ego trip you wouldn't believe. Mom decided to plan a Christmas party to show off the tree. Steve and I invited the kids in our neighborhood to come over and see the tree. Dad bragged about the tree whenever he had a chance: "Hey, that's a nice chainsaw you got there, Ed. By the way, have you seen our new Christmas tree?"
A few days later, Steve came home from school with a hand-made Christmas ornament made of construction paper, glue and glitter. It was a brown reindeer with a red button nose and a cotton ball tail. But when he started to put his masterpiece on the tree, we screamed, "No! You'll ruin it!" Steve was disappointed, but he understood. The tree reigned supreme. His ornament was relegated to the refrigerator door.
One night there was a mechanical problem with the rotating color wheel. It stopped spinning. The tree stayed yellow and wouldn't change. I sat by the wheel and manually switched out the colors every few seconds. Finally, Dad took it to the garage where he adjusted the whachamacallit and the dinglefrazz-o-meter. Everything was back to normal and we could all rest easy.
Mom got it into her head that all the gifts should be wrapped in silver paper to match the tree. That way, when the color wheel turned, the gifts would also reflect the light. And although I preferred the pretty red paper with the snowmen and penguins, I knew she was right. The silver packages glowed and filled the room with their glory.
I hate to admit it, but after a couple of weeks I was getting pretty tired of looking at that tin foil tree. We all were. It was two days before Christmas and we had just come home after visiting our neighbors across the street who had invited us over for eggnog and cookies. They had a real tree. It smelled like a forest and the dark green pine needles looked so festive with colorful ornaments hanging from the branches.
As we walked into the house that night, the aluminum tree shimmered in the moonlight from the picture window. Steve, with the excitement of a sloth, turned on the color wheel. We stared in disgust as the tree changed color. We were wrong. Our tree wasn't the best tree on the block, after all. It was tacky . . . and we knew it.
As our grim faces turned yellow, blue, green, red and back to yellow, Steve went into the kitchen to get his reindeer ornament off the refrigerator. He put it on the tree and stepped back. We all smiled. It was beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
Posted by Luana Krause at 7:18 AM 5 comments:
Twilight Zone: I Know Why the Caged Bird Squawks
Narrator: You unlock this door with a key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension. A dimension of sound. A dimension of sight. A dimension of mind. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You've just crossed over into . . . the Twilight Zone.
(MYSTERIOUS MUSIC PLAYS IN BACKGROUND)
Narrator: Polly Esterburg lived alone in a small cottage in a small neighborhood in a small town. The only thing she cared about was her parakeet Ronald. But Polly and Ronald would soon be involved in a deadly game . . . a game that would change their lives forever . . . a game that would ultimately lead them into . . . the Twilight Zone.
Polly: Ronald, you haven't talked to me in hours. What's wrong?
Ronald: (From inside his cage) Squawk! I'm sick of those peanuts you're always putting in my food dish. Squawk! For once in my life, I'd like peanuts with the shells.
Polly: I'm sorry, Ronald. I didn't know you cared. I'll get you some right away!
Ronald: Squawk! And make it snappy! I don't have all day!
Polly: Oh, no! We're all out of peanuts with shells.
Ronald: Figures. Squawk!
Polly: I have an idea. Let's play a game to get your mind off the peanuts. How about Parcheesi?
Ronald: Squawk! Can I be blue?
Polly: Of course! You can be any color you like. And you can go first.
Narrator: Since Ronald is unable to throw the dice, Polly rolls for him and moves his pieces. Hours pass as Polly and Ronald play Parcheesi late into the evening. Ronald is winning but Polly doesn't seem to mind. In fact, the way she's playing, it looks like she's letting Ronald win. Finally, Ronald's last piece is in place.
Ronald: Squawk! I win! I win! Suck it up, loser!
Polly: Oh, Ronald … you're such a wonderful Parcheesi player. I didn't have a chance. Squawk!
Ronald: What did you say?
Polly: Nothing, Ronald. I didn't say anything. Squawk!
Ronald: There! You said "Squawk!" I heard it with my own ears!
Polly: I don't know what's happening . . . Squawk!
Ronald: Good Lord! You're turning into a . . . a . . . parakeet!
Polly: No! That can't be! Squawk! It's impossible!
Ronald: And I'm becoming a human! Oh no! My beautiful wings! My colorful feathers . . . all gone! Quick, let me out of this cage!
Polly: Squawk! Here, I'll lift the latch with my . . . beak. (Opens latch) There! Squawk! You're free!
Ronald: Yes! Yes, I am. Free at last. And you should get into the cage . . . for your own safety, of course. The neighbor's cat often sneaks in through the window, and you know what that means.
Polly: (Flying into the cage) Squawk!
Ronald: (Sneering) Ah . . . perfect! Now I finally have you where I want you, my precious.
Polly: Squawk! What do you mean, Ronald?
Ronald: I've hated you for years . . . your relentless coddling and catering to my every whim. Disgusting!
Polly: Squawk! But I gave you everything you wanted. I treated you like a king!
Ronald: But don't you see? I didn't want to be treated like a king! I wanted to be independent! Make my own decisions! Be in control of my own destiny!
Polly: But Ronald! Squawk!
Ronald: You forced me to get my wings clipped! You obsessively shined my mirror four times day! You insisted I eat gourmet bird seed with pieces of corn and sunflower seeds, when what I really wanted was a millet-covered banana!
Polly: Forgive me, Ronald! Squawk! I only wanted the best for you! Squawk!
Ronald: Enough! It's all over now, my pet. Don't worry. I won't kill you, if that's what you're thinking. No, I have better ways of exacting my revenge.
Polly: Squawk! You mean . . . No! Not that! Anything but that! Squawk!
Ronald: (Serpentine voice) Polly . . .
Polly: Stop! I beg you! Squawk!
Ronald: Want . . .
Polly: Squawk! Somebody help me!
Ronald: A . . .
Polly: Squawk! No! Don't say it!
Ronald: CRACKER!
Polly: SQUAAAAAAAAAAAAWK . . .
Narrator: A friendly game of Parcheesi releases supernatural forces resulting in a bizarre transformation. Evil is unleashed while Good is entrapped. Polly Esterburg, so devoted to her pet parakeet, now becomes his slave. Another strange paradox. . .in the Twilight Zone.
Posted by Luana Krause at 3:51 AM 1 comment:
A Funny Thing Happened in the Garden of Eden
I'm an actor in a church drama team. We perform comedy sketches during our two morning worship services that relate to the pastor's message and help to get the point across.
A couple of weeks ago, we did an Adam and Eve sketch. I was Eve. We were to go on stage in the middle of the pastor's sermon. But we didn't know our cue to start. We were all backstage, wired for sound, saying things like:
Eve: When do we go on?
Adam: I don't know.
Serpent: What's our cue?
Adam: Is he ready for us yet?
Eve: (peeking out the door) I'm not sure. He's just standing there.
Serpent: Oh, no! Our microphones are on!
Needless to say, everyone in the auditorium heard our backstage banter. I accidentally crashed into a couple of metal folding chairs, making a terrible racket. We finally figured it was time to go on and just went out and did the sketch. Afterwards, everyone said how much they enjoyed it. They thought the backstage bit was part of the sketch!
The second service performance was perfect with no problems. Live and learn.
Posted by Luana Krause at 8:45 PM 1 comment:
Secret Lives of the Famous
1) Einstein closed his routine with the joke about the duck and the traveling salesman and got the laughs he expected. He was a regular Monday night stand-up at the Silver Scorpion Casino in downtown Berlin. Albert had started out as a prop-comic in a dingy barroom in Hamburg, but his skill in doing impersonations and his excellent comedic timing soon attracted the attention of theatrical agents. In between sets, he'd solve mathematical equations on cocktail napkins.
2) The sound of the Harley's roar pounded in Eleanor's ears as she clung to Winston's waist for dear life. She knew that Franklin would be upset, but she didn't care. The obese Prime Minister and the First Lady had been meeting secretly for months to ride Ireland's scenic byways. On these romantic excursions they always stopped at their favorite roadside diner for fish & chips and cold Heinekens.
3) Kissinger's pet gorilla rattled his cage again. "For Pete's sake, be quiet!" Henry was preparing for a meeting with heads of state to discuss U.S. foreign policy in Southeast Asia when Bonzo insisted on eating a banana. The cage was hidden beneath the floorboards in his office and a large area rug covered the spot. Fortunately, Henry had recently purchased a bunch of bananas from Spiro and was able to satiate the ape.
4) "The life of a rocket scientist isn't all it's cracked up to be," lamented Marilyn to her handsome escort as they were seated at the bar. Miss Monroe delicately sipped her martini; her tousled blonde hair covered one eye. She then proceeded to expose the contents of her briefcase – her 250-page treatise on projectile motion and vertical trajectory.
5) Fidel was worried. He'd booked too many Tupperware parties during the month of October. How would he fit them all in? He should have known that being a Tupperware representative would seriously interfere with his day job. But he couldn't resist the free tumbler set and matching mauve pitcher, which had a lifetime guarantee.
Posted by Luana Krause at 8:19 PM No comments:
Hey, Dude
Trevor: (greeting his friend Josh outside the mall) Dude!
Josh: (flashing Trevor a twisted-hand gesture with pinky and thumb extended) Dude.
Trevor: (puts hands in pockets of his baggy jeans) Duuude.
Josh: (flaps his arms like a chicken) Dude . . .
Trevor: (adjusts volume on his iPod) DUDE!
Josh: (gawks at girl walking by in low-slung jeans and a belly ring) DUUUDE!!!
Trevor: (puts his baseball cap on backwards) dude.
Josh: (counts the change in his pocket) Dude?
Trevor: (flashes his father's MasterCard) Dude!
Josh: (high-fives Trevor) Duuude!
Josh and Trevor: (enter mall as the girl in low-slung jeans and belly ring walks out) DUUUUUUDDDDE!!!
I'll never forget the day I found a tick on my belly.
I was taking a shower and noticed a tiny black spot about two inches to the right of my navel. I picked at it, thinking it was a piece of dirt, but it wouldn't come off. I looked closer and saw that it had legs and its head was buried in my flesh. I screamed like Janet Leigh in "Psycho." But I wasn't being stabbed by Norman Bates in drag. It was worse . . . I was an "all-you-can-eat" buffet for a blood-sucking parasite.
My cries of terror summoned my hubby, who came charging into the bathroom.
"A tick!"
"On my stomach! Get it off!"
I ran out of the shower and grabbed a towel.
"Let me see," hubby said. I showed him the spot. "It's a tick, all right."
I stared at the disgusting creature on my belly that seemed to expand with each passing minute. The bug, not the belly.
My knowledge of ticks was minimal. I knew what they were (ugly insects) and what they did (sucked your blood). I hoped hubby knew more about ticks than I did and could dislodge the critter without too much fuss.
"I'll need turpentine and a match," he said.
"Ticks need to be burned off. Don't worry, you'll be fine. Lie down on the bed while I get my tick First Aid kit."
I wasn't very comfortable with this suggestion, but I figured he knew what he was doing. He sounded so confident. While he went for the supplies, I put on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and lay down on the bed. He came into the bedroom carrying an old shoebox.
"Okay, sweetcakes. Let me see your tummy."
"What are you going to do?" I asked nervously. "You're not actually going to douse me with turpentine and light a match, are you?"
"Not right away," he said, as he rummaged through the box. "First we'll try a less invasive technique. Suffocating it with Vaseline."
As I lay on the bed, watching the tick's legs wiggle. I started to freak out again.
"Hurry! Do whatever you have to do, but get it off!"
Hubby dipped his stubby index finger into the Vaseline jar and proceeded to cover the tick with the slimy goo. I watched in curious horror; I'd never seen anything like it. The tick was covered in Vaseline and its legs started wiggling faster and faster.
"It can't breathe," hubby said.
"Of course it can't breathe. Its head is buried in my skin."
"Ticks breathe through their backs."
"It should pull its head out any second," he said.
We watched as the tick continued to squirm. After several minutes, it finally stopped. But nothing happened.
"It's not coming out!" I screamed. "Get more Vaseline!"
"No," hubby replied calmly. "That doesn't seem to be working. Time for Plan B."
"What's Plan B? Not the match, I hope."
"Nail polish."
"Great," I said. "I'm lying here with my belly smeared in slime and the tick gets a manicure."
Hubby patiently wiped the goo off the tick and then pulled out a bottle of "Sunset Mist" nail polish from his magic box. With the intensity of an explosives expert defusing a bomb, he carefully painted the tick, which turned a bright shade of cantaloupe orange.
"That oughta do it," he said. "This is another method of suffocation, but because the nail polish is toxic, the tick should move out pretty quick."
Again we watched the tick's legs wiggle. But the head remained firmly attached beneath my skin.
"What now, Einstein?" I asked.
"Time for the last resort."
"You mean . . . ?"
"Don't worry. I'm not going to use the turpentine. Just a match."
"Are you sure you can't try another smothering technique? Avocado dip? Pepto Bismol? Bacon grease?"
"Relax, sweetcakes. I have everything under control. I'm just going to light the match and gently tap the tick on its back."
He struck the match and I watched the flame, eyes wide in horror. I was motionless and held my breath. I feared that any sudden movement might cause him to lose his concentration and he would miss the mark.
Slowly and with purpose, he moved the flame closer to the tick.
"Stop it!" I shouted, and blew out the match.
"What did you do that for? Don't you trust me?"
"Okay, what do you suggest?"
"Call my mother. She's from Oklahoma. She knows all about ticks."
Hubby didn't argue with me. He knew I was right. Mom was a tick expert. She also had a Ph.D. in chiggers, black widows and yellow jackets. He picked up the phone and dialed her number.
"Luana has a tick on her belly. How do we get it off . . . tweezers . . . yeah . . . okay."
He poked around in the shoebox and found the tweezers, holding them like a surgeon brandishing a scalpel.
"Now what . . . grab the tick as close to the head as possible . . . pull firmly, making sure not to leave the head in . . . what happens if the head breaks off . . . infection . . . uh huh . . . antibiotics . . . yeah . . . gangrene . . . amputation . . . right."
I started to feel faint. I watched as he followed Mom's directions. He grabbed the tick close to the head and yanked. Before I could say "Lyme disease," the tick was out, squirming between the tongs of the tweezers.
"I got it!" Hubby beamed like a proud papa. He thanked my mother and hung up the phone.
I sighed with relief. The ordeal was over. But now Hubby was scrutinizing the cantaloupe-colored tick like a deranged entomologist.
"What are you going to do with it?" I asked.
"It's still alive. I wonder if I can use it for fish bait." Hubby left the room with the tick still in the tweezers.
I got up from the bed and rubbed the spot on my belly where the tick had been feeding. Who would have thought that a little bug could cause such pandemonium. As I reached for my sneakers, I spied a small black dot on my arm. Another tick. His tiny legs squiggled as he made a glutton of himself on my "A" positive. Party's over, pal.
"Honey," I yelled. "Get the bacon grease!"
Go Ahead, Make My Day: Your Daily Horoscope
Aries:
Saturn is aligned with Mercury, so it's a good day to buy a car. Look in the Yellow Pages and call "Yurrah Sap Auto Pix" where you'll get a deal on a pink Hummer, complete with a peppermint-striped nuclear warhead.
Taurus:
You're neighbor's howling beagle has tormented you long enough. Fix the pooch a fat, juicy Nyquil burger one hour before bedtime. Of course, you'll be sued by his owner for millions of dollars, but isn't a good night's sleep worth it?
Gemini:
As Uranus enters the Seventh House, your obsession with fleshly pursuits has completely blocked your psychic channel to the spirit world. Replace your ellipses with colons and periods with semicolons.
The vampire who's been stalking you will finally make his appearance tonight. Eat lots of garlic to ward him off. Not the store-bought stuff from Safeway. You have to order it special from Transylvania at Vampires R Us Dot Com. Warning: if you order from them, you'll be on their mailing list until hell freezes over, or the Colorado Rockies win the World Series . . . whichever comes first.
Do not leave your house today. In fact, do not leave your bedroom. Wait a minute . . . don't even get out of bed. Oops! Too late. If you're reading this horoscope, you're already doomed.
Virgo:
You will finally finish your 512-page thesis "'Who's On First' And Why This Matters In the 21st Century" that's taken you nine months to complete. Unfortunately, your computer crashes and you have to start over. Send Bill Gates a polite letter of complaint and switch to decaf.
Libra:
Jupiter's alignment with Goofy . . . I mean Pluto . . . makes this a good time to finish your screenplay "Mickey Mouse: Cross Dresser." For inspiration watch "Some Like It Hot" in your underwear while nibbling a block of cheddar cheese.
Scorpio:
The Horse is your spirit guide. Go to the track and bet one thousand dollars on Nomad Noodle to place. To prevent an embarrassing outbreak of acne, send your winnings to: Daily Horoscope Writer, 123 Gullible Avenue, Lamebrain, Kansas.
Mars aligns with Vulcan causing you to sprout pointy ears. Your close encounter with an alien life-form will create an obsessive desire to sculpt a replica of Devil's Tower with your mashed potatoes. Resist the urge.
Capricorn:
With Venus about to implode due to a monumental build-up of greenhouse gasses, your love life is taking a turn for the better. Your dream date will be waiting for you at the bus stop reading "Oatmeal For Dummies."
Aquarius:
Health conscious and robust, your daily workout at the gym is finally paying off. You have buns of steel and six-pack abs. Oh, sorry, that's not you. My mistake. You're the one with the cottage cheese butt and beer belly. Never mind.
Pisces:
Your therapist will diagnose you as paranoid schizophrenic. But don't believe him. He's lying. In fact, he's plotting against you and talking about you behind your back. Your only hope is to listen to those voices telling you to strangle him in his sleep.
Fido salivated hungrily at the blood-soaked tenderloin swimming in the bottom of his silver-plated "Betty Boop" dog dish, recalling with delight that moments before, his deadly canine incisors had penetrated the fattened calf of a U.S. postal worker, who had just delivered the long-awaited Swimsuit Edition of Sports Illustrated into the rickety, rusty-hinged mailbox of one Seymour Butts.
Dolphins vs. Broncos
My hubby is a sports fan. Well, maybe that's the wrong word . . . he's more of a sports fanatic! He's the kind of guy who can simultaneously listen to a basketball game on the radio, watch a football game on TV, clean his hunting rifle, polish his bowling ball and organize his fishing tackle. A real multi-tasker.
I had no idea what I was getting into when we got married. The men in my family shunned sports. The closest thing to a sport my father ever played was pinochle. And in high school, my brother was the band nerd, not the jock. Our family followed sports events only during the Olympics when we gathered in front of the TV to watch women's gymnastics.
As a new bride, I learned that hubby's number one passion was football. When I was growing up, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years Day were spent eating, talking and playing charades. But when I got married, football took center stage. Rose Bowl, Sugar Bowl, Orange Bowl, Super Bowl – we had more bowls than a Tupperware party.
I spent my weekends reading, doing household chores and running after the kids, so I got used to the constant background noise of football – the banter of sports announcers, the whistles of referees, the booming blare of the Chevy truck and Budweiser commercials, and the groans of hubby when the opposing team scored.
I figured early on in our marriage that if I wanted to spend time with my hubby, I'd better learn to like football . . . or at least not to loathe it. The first game we watched together was between the Miami Dolphins and the Denver Broncos (hubby's favorite team). I wanted to learn about the fascinating sport of football and I was an apt pupil. We were snuggling on the couch munching popcorn. Hubby was intent on downing a six-pack of Coors and I was sipping a coke.
"So what are they doing now, honey?" I said.
"They're in the huddle, sweetcakes."
"Why, sugar baby?"
"Planning the next play, bunny boo."
"They should have thought of that before the game started, lemon drop."
Hubby rolled his eyes and finished off beer number one, crushing the empty can with his bare hand. We continued watching as one Bronco threw the ball to another Bronco, but a Dolphin jumped right in and snatched it in mid-air. Hubby grunted and reached for another beer, but I was outraged.
"Hey, did you see that" I yelled. "He just grabbed the ball when that other guy was trying to catch it!"
"It's called an interception."
"I don't care what it's called. It's not fair!" The next thing I knew, the Dolphin that "intercepted" the ball was crushed by a pile of Broncos.
"Good," I said smugly. "He got what he deserved." Just then the sports announcer said something about "first and ten."
"What does that mean, cupcake?" I asked.
"It's first down for the Dolphins. They have the ball now . . . muffin."
"No they don't. The umpire took it."
"That's the referee."
"Yeah, right. You don't fool me. I happen to know that referees do basketball."
Hubby glared at me for no apparent reason and popped the top off his third Coors as we watched the Dolphins score a touchdown. I have to admit at this point I was getting a little bored. The announcers were tossing off words like "offensive line," "punt," "field goal," "scrimmage," "blitz," "wingback" and "fumble." Complete gibberish. I had no idea what was going on, but I was here to learn.
"Why do they wear black paint under their eyes, sweet pea?" I asked. But I don't think he heard me. Just then a Bronco scored a touchdown and hubby was staring at the TV to watch the instant replay.
"How many points in a touch down?" I asked.
"Six for the touchdown and one for the extra point."
"Why can't the touchdown just be worth seven points and be done with it?"
"That's the rules."
"Stupid rules, if you ask me. What a waste of time."
"Look if you don't want to watch the game, why don't you find something else to do . . . lamb chop?"
Here was my chance to make a break for it. Suddenly washing the dishes seemed like a vacation paradise. And even the thought of cleaning the toilets held some appeal. But I was determined to stick it out no matter what.
"No, that's okay. I like watching the game . . . pudding lump."
"Whatever you say . . . ginger snap."
I was watching the little clock on the TV screen, counting the minutes until the first quarter was over. Hubby said the game comprised four quarters of fifteen minutes each. But the clock kept stopping. I was getting frustrated. The game would go on forever at this rate.
"Why does the clock keep stopping?" I demanded.
"Time outs."
"That means a quarter doesn't really last fifteen minutes . . . it's more like half an hour. No wonder these football games are three hours long." Silence from hubby. This encouraged me to continue:
"You know, those uniforms are pretty dirty; I wonder how they get those pants so white after a game. They must use special bleach. And speaking of uniforms, don't you just love the Dolphins' uniforms? They have that cute little dolphin on the sides of their helmets."
I don't know how it happened, but the game had only been on less than an hour and hubby had already finished off the six-pack. I had barely made a dent in my coke. He seemed kind of miffed, too, but I don't know why. The Broncos were winning.
A Hot Night in Bedrock
It was a hot night in Bedrock. Sweat was pouring down my back and the monkey that pedaled the fan motor decided to take a banana break. When you're a private investigator, you sometimes have to burn the midnight oil, and this was one of those nights.
It had been a long day and I was just about to mosey down to the local watering hole for a tall glass of pterodactyl juice on the rocks before heading home to watch the match between the Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote. Bugs, my bookie, had given me a tip that tonight the bird was gonna lose . . . and lose big. I'd bet 100 clams on the coyote. The odds were high, but if Bugs knew what he was talking about, I'd be swimming in oysters for a month.
I grabbed my hat and walked toward the door when a dame walked in. Dames are a dime a dozen in Bedrock, but this one stood out like a cherry on a vanilla cone. She was tall, slender, and her red hair was pinned on top of her head with a little dinosaur bone. Her sexy white dress looped over a shapely shoulder and a single strand of pearls enhanced the curve of her neck. I could tell she was nervous and a little flustered.
"Are you Rocky Feldspar? Private Eye?"
"That depends on who wants to know."
"My name is Flintstone. Wilma Flintstone."
Flintstone . . . Flintstone . . . the name was familiar. I knew a Reuben Flintstone who worked out of Jellystone Park undercover as a bear, staking out picnic basket thieves. I'd also heard of a Seymore Flintstone, an informer that had testified in the Bullwinkle Moose trial and was now in the witness protection program. But one look at Wilma's baby browns told me I was sniffing around the wrong fire hydrant.
"Have a seat," I said, and offered her a chair next to my desk. She crossed her legs and her skirt slid up a few inches, but she quickly pulled it down over her dimpled knees.
"So, what's your story," I asked.
"I think my husband is trying to kill me."
She started to tear up and unsnapped her turtle purse, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe her eyes.
"Fred's a foreman at the Rockhead Quarry. He's not much in the brains department … or looks either, for that matter . . . but he's a good provider."
"He's a simple man. A member of the Royal Order of Water Buffalos. He goes bowling on Friday nights. And all he wants from me is a rack of barbequed spare ribs ready for him when he comes home."
"Sounds like a great guy."
She picked up on my sarcasm right away and a smile played at the corner of her mouth. "Yeah," she said. "Fred's one in a million."
"Then why do you think he wants you dead?"
She unsnapped her purse again and pulled out an envelope, which she passed on to me. "I found this in his bowling bag. An insurance policy worth 500,000 big ones."
I opened the envelope. The policy was legit, all right. Looked like Flintstone was in like flint . . . if he could pull it off. But something in my gut told me there was more to the story. I looked up and Wilma was standing next to me. She took the bone out of her hair and auburn tresses cascaded down her back.
"I'm pretty sure Fred is having an affair," she said in a sultry voice.
I'd been down this road before. A dame finds out her husband has a lover, so she goes after the first guy she finds to prove she's still desirable. I'd learned that lesson the hard way with Jane Jetson. Her husband George came after me one night with a loaded forty-five. Lucky for me his aim was lousy and he just riddled the wall behind me full of holes. What do you expect from a guy who walks his dog on a treadmill.
"Look, sweetheart," I growled, grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her back into the chair. "I'm not gonna play your reindeer games." She looked hurt, but got over it faster than you could say "yabba dabba doo." She pinned her hair back up with the dinosaur bone and smiled.
"No games, Feldspar. I just thought it would help the case if you knew what Fred was up to in his spare time. Not that I care. Our marriage has been dead for years. We're only staying together for the sake of Pebbles."
"Fruity Pebbles? The cereal?"
"No. Our baby daughter."
"So who's the dame?"
"Betty Rubble."
I wrote the name down, but it was just for show. I knew Betty. A slinky brunette with big brown eyes and legs that wouldn't quit. Fred didn't know what he was getting in to, the poor sap.
"How do you know he's having an affair?"
"He comes home late from work with lipstick on his collar. And I found some pink panties in his pocket. Not mine."
"Maybe they're his."
"Not a chance. They were monogrammed 'B.R.' I know they belonged to Betty." She showed about as much emotion as an accountant reciting the tax code at an IRS conference.
Like I said, I knew Betty very well. But I also knew about her dopey husband Barney and the double life he led. Those panties were his or my name wasn't Rocky Feldspar.
"Can you help me, Feldspar? I heard you were the best P.I. in Bedrock."
I couldn't argue with her there. I was proud of my record. If it wasn't for me, Mr. Magoo would still be jaywalking. And thanks to my efforts, Speedy Gonzales was locked up in the slammer without parole for running guns in Mexico. In fact, because of my deft detective skills, Boris and Natasha were nabbed for trying to skip the country with that nuclear warhead. Now they were waiting their turn at the gas chamber instead of knocking back vodka shots in Minsk.
I walked over to Wilma and put my arms around her. She didn't resist. Despite her cavalier air, I knew she was in pain. I don't usually get personally involved with my clients, but there was something about her that aroused my inner caveman.
"Sure angel, I'll take the case."
"Can I call you Rocky?"
"Call me whatever you like." I turned off the desk lamp and we embraced in the moonlight. Tomorrow I would get to work, but first I had a bone to pick with Wilma Flintstone.
Ruby Slipper Odyssey
I love Hollywood musicals.
I was eight years old when I saw my first – "The Wizard of Oz." It came to our local movie theatre that summer and then I watched it on television every year around Easter time. I nibbled on chocolate bunnies and marshmallow chicks, eyes wide with horror as the Wicked Witch of the West sent her flying monkeys to the Haunted Forest.
I learned all the songs from the movie and I'd sing anytime, anyplace . . . at the school playground ("Ding Dong the Witch is Dead") . . . in the car on family trips ("Somewhere Over the Rainbow") . . . making mud pies in my Easy Bake Oven ("If I Only Had a Brain").
As I matured, I got into the harder stuff – "Singing in the Rain," "Summer Stock," "South Pacific." I watched these "oldies" on the Late Late Late Show, munching popcorn and sipping Nestles Quick.
It was 1969 . . . Vietnam . . . protest marches . . . Woodstock . . . and I was a clueless 12-year-old. My friends in junior high were into Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and The Doors. Not me. I daydreamed about tap dancing with Gene Kelly on a shiny mahogany desk to the tune of "Moses Supposes His Toeses are Roses."
Later on I discovered "West Side Story," "Anything Goes" and "Cabaret." I saved up my allowance and bought the record albums of my favorite shows, elbowing my way passed the blue-haired ladies and the men in plaid suits with Clark Gable mustaches in the "Showtunes" section. I karaoke-ed to "My Fair Lady" before there was such a thing as karaoke. It was my secret vice. While other teens were smoking pot, I was getting high on "The Rain in Spain Stays Mainly on the Plain."
"Jesus Christ Superstar" made its debut in the early 1970s and every girl in my high school was swooning over Ted Neely. The fact that he was Jesus didn't seem to matter. For the first time in my life, I was on the same "musical" page as my peers. Everybody loved the "Jesus" movie. For the next three years without fail, our high school talent show featured a girl singing "I Don't Know How to Love Him." The song was so popular the marching band played it during halftime at football games.
In the 1980s, I was a young mother with two impressionable children who were exposed to the likes of Michael Jackson, Madonna, and MC Hammer. As a responsible parent, it was my duty to provide an antidote to this poison. So I began an intensive, systematic method of de-programming. My offspring would listen to the best in musical entertainment. They would learn the most sophisticated, high-brow songs of the musical theatre. My efforts paid off. I'll never forget the day I found them prancing around the house singing "There's Nothin' Like a Dame." I was a proud Mama.
The brainwashing . . . I mean the "lessons". . . continued throughout their childhood. We sang in the car on our way to Little League practice. We sang in the kitchen as we baked chocolate chip cookies. We sang in the back yard as we played fetch with the dog. When the kids got familiar with the movies, I'd quiz them:
Me: In what movie did Gene Kelly play a sailor on shore leave?
Luke: "On the Town"!
Me: Right! Who played Nathan Detroit in "Guys and Dolls"?
Jennifer: Frank Sinatra!
Me: Right! You kids are on a roll! What song did Fred Astaire sing when he wore the red socks?
Luke: "Steppin' Out With My Baby!"
Me: From what movie?
Jennifer: "Easter Parade"!
Me: Excellent! Come on, let's go to Blockbuster and get "Jesus Christ Superstar." I want to teach you the "What's the Buzz?" number!
Fast-forward to 2005. My 24-year-old son called me on his cell the other day. We were discussing books, blogs and the situation in Iraq. I was quite pleased the way he worked the phrase "I'm Just a Fella With an Umbrella" into our conversation.
I choose to believe this unexpected utterance was inspired by his adoration of that romantic duet with Judy Garland and Peter Lawford in "Easter Parade" . . . and not the fact that he lives in Seattle.


The SHS Project is offered in partnership with the Sierra Youth Coalition, the youth branch of the Sierra Club.
Sustainable High Schools is adapted from SYC's successful Sustainable Campuses Project.
Both are youth-driven initiatives created to support school communities in envisioning, assessing and improving their level of ecological and social well-being.


Birding in Orlando is something you will do while vacationing there, whether you mean to or not. You can't help yourself because there is a huge array of birds in the area due to warm climate all year round. Just walking anywhere in the region you will see lots of different types of birds of practically every color. We have highlighted some of our favorites.
If you are lucky enough to hear one you will never forget it. They make a sort of bugling or trumpeting sound that can be heard at great distances. When we first heard them it took us a while to locate them by following the sound and we were very surprised to find out they were the creatures making that noise. The culprit- Sandhill Cranes.
Sandhill Cranes can be found anywhere throughout the Central Florida region. Up to four feet tall with a wingspan of five to seven feet they are quite impressive to see. They live in Florida all year, but the population expands in the winter as birds from further north migrate to the warmer weather areas.
Taking a day trip to the gulf coast beach is a fun experience and will not disappoint for the birdwatcher. Pelicans and other small birds love to spend a sunny afternoon diving for fish in the warm waters. They hunt cooperatively in groups and grab the fish close to the water's surface.
This pelican along with several others, were not the least bit bothers by us on Anna Maria Island.
Spotting a wild flamingo in central Florida is a rare occurrence. Those spotted in the wild have been considered to be escapees from a domesticated habitat. Known for their pink plumage, they can average about 50 inches tall. Ever wonder why they only stand on one foot? It is because that flamingo is cold, and it is retaining its body heat.
However, you are able to see flamingos in various places throughout Orlando. This group of Flamingos calls The Animal Kingdom home. A trip to The Animal Kingdom is a great place for a bird watcher to see a large variety of birds.
If you are serious about birding there are many parks and birding trail sites. Check out this link: http://floridabirdingtrail.com/index.php/about/access_the_trail/ where you will find 515 birding and wildlife viewing areas, and don't forget your camera!


Countess Alice Szechenyi, and Count Bela Hadik were married this afternoon at St. Matthew's Church in Washington, D.C., reports the New York Times.
Alice is the daughter of daughter of Count Laszlo Szechenyi, the Hungarian Minister to the United States and Countess Szechenyi, the former Gladys Moore Vanderbilt, youngest child of Cornelius Vanderbilt II and Alice Claypoole Gwynne. The groom is the count of Count John Hadik, a member of the Hungarian parliament's upper house and his wife, Alexandra, a Countess Zichy by birth.
More than 1,000 guests, including "members of official, diplomatic and resident social circles," were present for the Roman Catholic wedding, which included the reading a cable message from the Pope "as a pledge of heavenly favor." The Pope gave the couple his apostolic blessing.
The reception was held at the Hungarian Legation.
The bride was attended by her sister, Countess Cornelia Szechenyi,, who was the maid of honor, Countess Margaret Hadik, Princess Elizabeth Cantacuzene, Miss Dora White and Miss Edith Eustis. The flower girls were Countess Sylvia and Fernandine Szechenyi, the younger sisters of the bride.
Countess Alice was escorted down the aisle by her father. She was dressed in a "gown of white satin, made with long sleeves, round neck and lace flounce." The long train was also satin and "embroidered in silver and silk. Her veil was made from old lace. The veil and gown were also worn by her mother, when she married Count Laszlo in 1908.
The bridegroom and his best man, Count Stephen Szecheny, wore "Hungarian court costumes of their respective ranks." Count Bela's coat was braided and bordered with fur.
All of the bride's attendants wore "long, pale green chiffon dresses, made with capes and green straw hats with bands of green ribbon, and carried Spring flowers.
Countes Szechenyi wore a mauve georgette gown with white chiffon and "lace collar and cuffs. Her mauve straw hat was adorned with an ostrich feather.
The bride and groom received messages of congratulations from Count Stephen Bethlen, Hungary's Prime Minister, from Regent Horthy, Archduke Friedrich and Archduchess Isabella of Austria, and Nicholas Roosevelt, who is the American minister to Hungary.
The newly weds will sail to Europe in early May and will make their home at Seregelyes, the Hadik family estate, south of Budapest.
Countess Hadik, the groom's mother, sent the bride a diamond necklace with matching earrings that once belonged to Empress Maria Theresia of Austria. Count Hadik's gift was a porcelain dinner set for 24 persons made in Herend, Hungary. The bride's gave her diamond and emerald earrings and a bracelet, as well as a touring car. Mrs. Harry Payne Whitney, who was unable to attend the wedding, sent a "single strand necklace of matched pearls, with a pendant of rubies, emeralds and diamonds."
Mrs. Whitney is Countess Szechenyi's older sister, the former Gertrude Vanderbilt. The bride's grandmother, Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt, came from New York, to attend the wedding. Mr. and Mrs. Harry Cushman also attended. Mrs. Cushman, is the former Cathleen Vanderbilt, one of the bride's first cousins, and the elder daughter of the late Reginald Vanderbilt.