Stuff that makes me laugh lately: A Ramble

Dear Friend,
It is Friday night, I am pumped full of caffeine and a strong desire to write.  I cannot guarantee that what I am about to record will be entertaining or comprehensible.  If you choose to read this entry anyway I will consider you a true friend... or really bored, but either one is fine.

I have been practically devouring comedy lately.  It began with a whim to see some silent films. I chose to start off with Buster Keaton, and that was a success since I now adore the man.  It branched into a little Harold Lloyd, whom I had never heard about before researching silent films trying to find which of Buster's films I would probably like best.  I flatly refuse to watch Chaplin.  I cannot quite explain why. There is a strange quality about the man that I find off-putting and repulsive.  But Keaton and Lloyd films I will happily devour.  What I like best about these silent slapstick comedies is the physicality and stunts involved in the jokes.  I can't count how many times I've felt my jaw hanging open, making me look like an astonished fish when I see what these men were doing.  The best part is the lack of special effects involved in most of the stunts.  Honestly, I've grown tired of reading the rants of silent film fans who denounce the current method of using CGI to make most movie stunts these days, but they have a point.  What movie makers and actors did before computers (and frankly, insurance companies) took over is impressive.  But at the same time, it is incredible that these actors survived some of the shots they put themselves through.

Another great source of comedy for me lately is Drew Carey's Improv-A-Ganza on GSN.  (Red squiggly lines under the last third of that sentence, it's a shame they won't show when I publish...)   It is almost like a reunion of Whose Line is it Anyway, but not quite.  It still makes me laugh, to the point of tears sometimes.  It makes me so happy to see Ryan Stiles, Jeff Davis, Colin Mochrie, and Wayne Brady on TV again.  Drew has improved at improv since Whose Line, too.  (Aside note, I really, honestly like Drew Carey. He's the only reason I started watching the Price is Right again. I don't know why I like him so much... I don't think he's that great as a game show host, but he makes me laugh, and seems to enjoy himself doing it.) 

A friend of mine has been talking a lot about the Marx Brothers lately.  I love the Marx Brothers, myself, and hadn't seen any of their movies in a long time, so I put a couple in to watch this week.  It made me realize that my favorite Marx brother is Harpo.  He always has been, even when I was a kid.  I usually feel like Groucho gets all the attention, and he's definitely funny, but I'll always adore Harpo.

Also, somewhat related to my Marx brothers "epiphany," Wakko is my favorite of the three Warners in Animaniacs.  I thought Yakko was for the longest time, but it was always Wakko.  After all, all those years ago when I was a rather rude "hostess" when a friend was over and I insisted that she watch Animaniacs with me when she wanted to watch X-Men it was because it was a Wakko-heavy episode, not Yakko. 

Goodness, this has been a rambling and silly entry.  If you made it this far, consider yourself hugged.  I'll try to be more intellectual in my next letter. 

Isn't that a little rude, though?

Dear friend,
This past Sunday our family tried a new church.  It was a nice service, the music was good, the people were friendly and the sermon encouraging.  We met the pastor, and it was obvious that he was making an effort to remember us by name, in order either to recognize us if we came back or to pray for us, who knows. During the conversation he asked me a question that I hear far too often, "How old are you?" 

I know that in my case people ask me this because they can't tell just from looking at me.  I know that in a church there are groups separated by age.  I know that he didn't intend to offend me or set off an angry switch in my soul.  Because I know all of this I answered calmly and truthfully, but I made a decision. 

I am not telling people how old I am anymore.

Part of this decision is because I'm definitely old enough to adopt the "lady-like" policy of keeping such information to myself.  Part of it is because I don't feel my age.  I haven't for years, and as they say, you're only as old as you feel. 

So, from now on, I'm ageless.  

It's a bitter world, I'd rather dream

Dear Friend,
My affection for Adam Young, aka Owl City, is well documented.  I've mentioned that in general I will get over a celebrity crush in about a month, but this guy is different.  But I've noticed another difference besides longevity in this crush; it feels like having a crush on someone I know.

Obviously a crush on a "real life" guy is different than a crush on a "fake" celebrity.  As far as I'm concerned a celebrity may as well be a fictional character.  I like it that way.  However, if I'm interested in a guy in real life it is to my benefit to know more about who they really are if there is any chance of getting involved with them.  No one would argue that I have a good chance of having a personal relationship with someone famous, therefore the less I know about them, the better, and the easier it will be to move on when their moment in the spotlight of my affections is over.

But, something is weird about Adam.  I think it may be his Blog.  I love the way he writes.  Reading a new entry of his blog (which I get to do, mostly every Monday, like clockwork) feels like having a casual conversation with him.  He writes so well and so easily that you feel like you get to know him through his words despite the lack of precise details.  He's funny and eloquent and manages to write about things that everyone can relate to.

The weird, personal feeling of this famous-person-crush came to its peak when I heard the song Lonely Lullaby.  This song is an extra feature of the Owl City Galaxy app for Ipods or Iphones.  It is a very personal song about a break-up, and it is lovely.  I found out that the song isn't an abstract song about sadness in general, but specifically about his ex-girlfriend Anne Marie.  One night, while I was listening to music and playing video games the song came on and I got that weird, jealous, sympathetic, frustrated feeling that you get when you listen to someone you like go on about how wonderful someone else is.  No one enjoys that feeling.  Let me tell you, it feels even worse when you realize that the feeling is completely unjustified and slightly stalker-like.
I eagerly await the day I can simply listen to the song, enjoy it, and move on when the track ends without feeling this bizarre slurry of emotions. Hopefully this written confession, a sort of emotional exorcism, will speed that day along.