"Can We Talk?"

I'm devastated by yesterday's news of Joan Rivers passing.

She was one of a kind, an icon, a pioneer in the industry. She will be mourned and missed by all who loved and knew her. And I was one of them. Joan went before she possibly should have, the result of a routine throat surgery she probably didn't need. Tragic. I was fortunate enough to see her in person last November and I'm glad I did. She was spectacular! Pure Joan, uncensored and politically incorrect but nonetheless hilarious and heartwarming. I am a huge fan and today I'm sad she has left us.

The piece below debuted here on August 21, 2012. I was already Joan Rivers fan but gained a new found love/appreciation for the woman that was Joan Rivers when I watched the 2010 documentary on Joan, "Piece of Work".

The Joan Ranger's salute you. RIP Joan.

She Hates Everybody

I'm a Joan Ranger.

I love Joan Rivers. Yes, I know, she's crass, mean, insulting and mostly inappropriate, but she's hilarious and she always leaves me laughing.

She is currently starring in two shows; one reality show on WE TV called "Joan and Melissa" and "Fashion Police" on E.

On "Fashion Police", she is incredibly funny yet politically incorrect in her impeccably timed Joan Rivers way. She commands the floor with her panel of fashion "experts", but make no mistake, Joan is the show. It's well worth the watch.

I became a fan a couple of years ago when I came across the documentary "Joan Rivers. Piece of Work." It released in Jan 2010 and was filmed during one year of Joan Rivers life when she was 75 years old. It followed her through her crazy, schedule of appearances and performances.

This lady works. I gained an incredible appreciation for her work ethic. She was non-stop. Joan makes no bones about the fact that she has to work to support her opulent lifestyle, yet she admits to needing the work to boost her self esteem.

Notorious for her abuse of plastic surgery, Joan admits quite openly to being very insecure. She does it all too. At the time of filming, Joan was still working every day, attending several personal appearances, doing comedy shows and regularly traveling across country. A schedule that would have made even a younger person, question why. Yet Joan seemed to revel in it, and she hardly complained.

This lady is no dumb blonde, either. Fresh off her "Celebrity Apprentice" win in 2009, "Piece of Work" showed Rivers the business woman for the shrewd artisan she is. Her jewelry line is one of QVC's most successful sellers to date and that is just one of the many projects that Joan is attached to.

I hope to God that when I am her age, I have half the stamina that she has. And that's not something you can buy from a plastic surgeon. You gotta have hutzpah! Forbes has estimated Rivers net worth at $290 million, and that's a hell of a lot of hutzpah.

Say what you will about her.
She's probably already heard it and incorporated it into her act and made it ten times funnier. 

Say It Ain't So

Around these parts Wes Welker is still beloved.

I'd be hard pressed to find a Patriots fan who didn't wince when they see Wes Welker suited up in his Denver Broncos uniform. Top that off with the fact that he catches the passes of My Tommy's nemesis-Payton Manning and the pits in our collective stomach's are verging on an ulcer. Mr Welker deservedly remains beloved in New England because he was ours and we loved him for it.

That's exactly why we are left scratching out heads from this latest Wes Welker development.


In case you missed it: Wes Welker has been suspended for 4 games for violating the league's policy on performance enhancing drugs. Evidently it was reported that Welker tested positive for ecstasy laced with amphetamine that he reportedly took during his trip to the Kentucky Derby. Drugs? At the Kentucky Derby? Wes Welker? Really?? I'm not so sure.

In an email to the Denver Post Welker wrote:
"I'm as shocked as everyone at todays news," Welker said in an e-mail to The Denver Post. "I want to make one thing abundantly clear: I would NEVER knowingly take a substance to gain a competitive advantage in any way. Anyone who has ever played a down with me, lifted a weight with me, even eaten a meal with me, knows that I focus purely on what I put in my body and on the hard work I put in year round to perform at the highest levels year-in and year-out"

And I believe him, but how does this happen?

Reportedly Welker is furious over reports that he took a Molly when attending the Kentucky Derby this past May.  He is said to be wondering if someone put a Molly into his drink.

“I wouldn't have any idea where to get a Molly or what a Molly is,” Welker said. “That's a joke. I don't do marijuana, I don't do drugs. I don't do any drugs.”

History in New England has shown that Welker has never had any previous problems with drugs, but I think someone slipping him a Mickey or a Molly is pretty suspect. We are all human. Welker is no exception and humans make mistakes. Somewhere between all this speculation and the official statements to the press remains the truth.

And to be quite honest if he did take the drugs....it's none of my business. The NFL feels quite the opposite.

Mimicry Is The Best Form Of Flattery

It has recently come to my attention that I may have the psychological syndrome called FAS (Foreign Accent Syndrome). This is a real thing, seemingly, as I did a quick Google search on it. The back story here is that my daughter recently scolded me: She said, "When you talk to someone with an accent you adopt their accent into your response to them."

And she would be right.

I know I am doing it at times and at times I a am completely unaware I am doing it. Like last month when we were doing the buying for The Candy Bar in New York City and I was conversing with a gentleman who had a heavy Latin accent. Evidently, in my responses, I intoned the nuances of this gentleman's specific vernacular into my speech. And she called me on it. Again, she would be right and I'm not quite sure why I do it. I've done it before, a bunch of times, but none more specifically than when I was traveling in Europe or I am speaking to someone with a strong accented speech pattern. I have even opened a conversation in Paris with a simple, "Bonjour" to which the person I am talking to assumes I am French speaking and will respond in a long response in French which I do not understand at all.

Upon closer inspection I may be suffering from "the chameleon effect" instead of FAS-which can medically be the result of a brain trauma. The chameleon effect is said to be subconscious and more like "mimicking". Many famous people have been criticized in the media for it. Madonna, Oprah and Tony Blair have all been condemn for changing their accents to suit their audience. Scientists and researchers are actually studying this phenomenon. "Researchers who made the discovery believe accent mimicry is part of the brain's in-built urge to 'empathize and affiliate' with other people."

So it would seem that I am not alone or even "weird" as my first born would lead me to believe. It would seem I am in good company. Bottom line is I'm not crazy or brain damaged. Maybe I'm just deploying a useful strategy. By adopting some of the speech patterns I hear, deep down, what I could really be trying to say to you is "I hear ya...and I understand you completely."

On Stage

Did you ever hear a song in your car that just spoke to you? Made you burst out in full on sing song like you were on stage? In front of thousands of people? Singing like you've never sang before?  I know you have. We all have. And we have all seen someone at a red light just belting out a song like they are in the middle of Madison Square Garden in front of the adoring crowd.

That's why this is so funny.

You go Ellen! I wish I could do that every morning with a different celebrity in my bathroom.

Lady got some pipes..both of em.

Tuesday Tough Love

We all have to fly. We all have to spread our wings, fly free and soar where we have never dared to soar before. And we have to do it alone, but together in spirit. Always.

• The nest will be empty today..by 5 pm. I've realized that it's not about me. They will be great. I've done my job. 
• It's not so bad... my life is good. Possibly even great, but I'm being challenged lately. I can't run and hide. I've got to fight and move forward with everything I've got. Piece of cake, right?

I'm done whining and crying. I had my moment, now it's time to live. Fly free and soar. 

Eagles don't fly with crows. 

"Wake Up Baby! Your Life Is Calling!"

So by now if you've been following The Daily Dandy for a bit you undoubtedly know that I am an extreme helicopter mom... Yes...that is me in the cartoon above.

I'm on my way to bring my baby to the rest of his life.

Have a great weekend bloggers....and try to hold on for just a bit longer if you can.
xoxo

Throwback Thursday: Tweedle Dum Dum's A REPOST

It's a Throwback Thursday REPOST form 2011!

Today's post is especially poignant as tomorrow we all travel to North Carolina to bring Frack to begin his freshman year in college. I hope he remembers this moment, as my son the college student, is indeed a smart man. 
This Post was lovingly debuted on Tuesday, Nov 8, 2011

So, we get home from NYC Sunday night and Frack and his grandfather arrive home from the Pats/Giants debacle, along with my bestest and oldest friend in the world, Danny, at just about the same time. Frack jumps right to his homework. He's got an algebra test the next day and since I received a not-so-glowing email from his math teacher two days earlier, Frack knows his ass is grass and I'm the lawn mower if he doesn't up his game.

My Guy, Danny and I go sit in the family room to chat while Frack is studying in the kitchen. We were having a grand old time bitching about the sucky Patriots game and such, discussing this and that and about two hours breezes by. My Guy announces that he is going off to bed, says his good nights and leaves us girls to it. About 15 minutes later, I hear Frack's voice in the kitchen meekly say, "mom.." I provide the usual response, a slightly annoyed ,"ya" cuz I'm thinking he wants me to get him a drink or something. God forbid he rises the 5 yards over to the fridge to get it himself.

"can you come ere?" he says.

After a deep breath in, cuz I'm tired, I get up and go to the kitchen with Danny right behind me. What I find there literally broke a mother's heart. My son is sitting in front of his notebook with papers scattered about with a look of pain on his face that cut right through me. He looked at me and said, "Mom, I'm so screwed. I can't figure any of this out."

Now I know he's screwed because math is not a resume piece of mine and I pull my stomach off the floor, which has just dropped down there with this realization. I quickly look at Danny, hoping for some math mojo, and she announces, "I used to be really good at Algebra. It used to be my best subject," then she adds, "but I couldn't do it now. No way." Frick, math student extraordinaire, and My Guy are asleep and I was, of course, ABSENT that day, so Frack is as he said; screwed.

But the look on my kid's face sprung me right to action. Tweedle Dum 1, me, takes the iPad in my hand and asks, "Can't we Google this?" Tweedle Dum 2, Danny, says, "yeah, just type 'solve' and then plug in the equation." This leads us to a million different places all of which we find a whole lot of nothing. Frack is now arguing with Tweedle Dum 1, me, whoes trying to help him, that he's never going to figure this out and let's just forget it. Tweedle Dum 2, Danny, is now reading the results, clicking and we stumble upon this site called mathops.com. It's got the order of operations for quadratic equations right there and Frack begrudgingly looks at it. And looks at it. And looks at it some more.

Then the most amazing thing happened. It was TRULY like a light bulb went off in his head and the moment was quite memorable. "Wait a second," he said. "I think I get it." Frack then clears the table and starts working on the blank practice test. The teacher had given them the correct answers to the practice test but not the order of operations to get there, and Frack starts rattling off the correct answers in succession. The Tweedle Dum Dum's are high fiving each other like crazy after every correct answer and the energy in Frack changed instantaneously to that of serious student. Danny left for home and I stayed up with Frack for a bit longer. He got stumped a few more times but he then found a site on youtube called your. teacher.com with 3-5 minute video tutorials on every math problem you could imagine.

I was so proud of him and he used these wonderful resources to breakthrough his mental block. These videos are how HE learns and it was like a magic math elixir. Frack got an email from his math teacher last night announcing his B+ on his math test and a congrats on stepping up his effort like she knew he could. I told him I couldn't be prouder. We all learned something valuable, the Tweedle Dum Dum's included.

I told Frack that being smart isn't always about knowing all the answers.

A smart man know where to look to find the answers.