Thursday, June 12, 2008

Toss 'Em?

I was going to get some photos of Guatemala to scan in and post here, when I stumbled over this:


An autographed photo, signed by John Waters and Divine. It was opening night of the movie Hairspray. And there they were in the lobby. Well, all right.

I guess I could put it on eBay. But what about the autographed photo signed by Cooter from Dukes of Hazzard? What am I supposed to do with that one?

18 comments:

John Bligh said...

Love the Divine/Waters one... Frame that.

:0

Don Hudson said...

I'll give you six bucks for the photo.

Sue said...

Keep the Hairspray photo! Come to think of it, the Dukes of Hazzard is cool too. Keep em both.

Matt Hollingsworth said...

You should hang the Dukes one inside the garage where you park Henry.

BTW, I explained to the locals that American girls name their cars. (Which, in my experience is true. Every American girlfriend I've ever had named their car.) Naturally, they think you're all crazy.

;-)

Marie said...

Oh, good idea for the photo! It will inspire Henry to know someone (Cooter the mechanic) is keeping an eye on him.

BTW, this is my first-ever car with a name, and I didn't name him!

Turbo (an Australian guy, not an American girl) named Henry. It was actually Turbo's car first, though it was in my name for complicated reasons involving driver's licenses, social security numbers, and American car insurance.

By the time Turbo left and Henry was all mine, the name had stuck. Henry has been as loyal as a dog, steadfastly standing by me through three different state license plates, 50,000 miles, six years, four men not in the gravy boat (at least three of which were not even aware there was a gravy boat), and multiple national parks.

Matt Hollingsworth said...

Heh heh. Okay!

Cooter's in the news today. Coincidence? I think not.

http://www.cnn.com/2008/SHOWBIZ/TV/06/12/people.benjones.ap/index.html

Marie said...

"A year later," he said, "I walked into an audition and was cast in what was to become one of the greatest television shows in the history of entertainment."

Um...

Sara Kocher said...

...four men not in the gravy boat (at least three of which were not even aware there was a gravy boat)...

Um, what? I'm so clueless, I have no idea what this means. I tried Googling to no avail (although I did learn that you should watch out for lumpy rugs when carrying a filled gravy boat).

Oh, and everyone knows DoH isn't one of the greatest television shows in the history of entertainment. That honor has to go to Three's Company, hands down. He is being ironic, right?

Marie said...

"Gravy boat" is just a shorthand I have for doing more than just showing up. Showing up is good, but men (and women) have to try too, that is open up and risk their hearts and pain, to throw themselves in because while the food is good and all, the gravy makes it all the better.

The gravy boat is a warm place with the gravy, the add-ons, the special stuff that make it more than just showing up.

All right... you didn't really ask, but let us use Exhibits A, B, and um, D. (Don't use C because that is shorthand for something else on this blog and he is not in this exhibit, mostly because he reads this and probably wouldn't be real happy to have his gravy boatness discussed. Repeat: No in this demonstration model and no allusions are implied.)

Exhibit A:
Pros:
Ideal on the surface. Totally handsome, totally useful, totally funny. Has a job. Has a home. Has a bunch of wild animals in the yard. Friends think he's Mr. Wonderful. Also very useful at fixing things.

Cons: Two "I love yous" over the same number of years, both under departing situations. Distant individual, not responsive to more and more desperate attempts at emotional interaction.

Diagnoses: Not in the gravy boat, though probably utterly unaware of its existence so what's to be expected.

Exhibit B:
Pros:
"Dead sexy" is how one friend described him. Totally funny. Electric interaction at first. Worshipped me while he thought I was Lara Croft. Fascinating lifestyle, fast motorcycle, one of those fab connections that is addictive.

Cons:
Financially destitute. Once he discovered I was in fact Marie, not Lara, his interest plummeted. Had a fear of intimacy and commitment that taught me that I had one too and had to get over it. Had a childish fantasy idea of romance, which was useful only during the euphoric stage, not too terribly useful once reality set in. Fab connection once so fab later felt like it would kill me. Number of "I love yous" over two years: Zero. One "Incredible woman." Incredibly unhealthy for me once the fun was over.

Diagnoses: Tentatively dabbled in the gravy boat until he thought he'd drown there, and fled fled fled at the speed of a Yamaha XT Tenere.


Exhibit D:
Pros:
Incredibly smart, nice, filthy rich, tall, thin, from a country with socialized health insurance, keen to form a commitment. Adored me and supported my writing like no one else ever has short of my mother.

Cons:
Collapsed under an ex-wife's whim.

Diagnosis: Not in gravy boat.

I'd give you an example of someone in the gravy boat, but I don't think I have any. Which is pretty sad, I suppose, but in reality see above-referenced issues of commitment and intimacy.

The good news is that I don't think I have any more wild fantasy ideas about men and romance. See, I can learn. I want to stay in the gravy boat, not go sliding off the turkey onto the floor. The floor is quite a long ways down and dinner is up here. Best served with gravy.

Does the gravy boat make any more sense now?

Amanda Castleman said...

Some of the gravy nomenclature dates back to this blog post, but ultimate props to Mimi Smartypants'...

Marie said...

I had no idea that's where it came from! Thanks,
Ax.

Sara Kocher said...

Oh, yes, it sure does. I had my own exhibits, K, W and B (not your B, of course) and I'm pretty sure I'm exhibit S for at least two guys.

If I ever again hear "I love you, but I'm not IN love WITH you" I now know to just walk away right there. Learned the long, hard way that there's no point in sticking around after that.

Amanda Castleman said...

I'm rather amused we've built an elaborate theory of romantic dynamics off a Mimi Smartypants aside...

It's like Newton and the apple.

Well.

Kinda.

Marie said...

Or is it like Apple and the Newton?

Anyway, for the record, there is a serious gravy mythos that came to me from Polly too, who is totally into gravy metaphors.

Marie said...

Sara, the comment you quote says more about the person saying it than about the person at the receiving end.

And one thing I've learned, to quote my friend Lisa, is that so much of it is simply a matter of timing.

Amanda Castleman said...

Maybe gravy is a hive mind thing?

Steve Jobs axed the Newton apparently. But according to this 2002 Wired article
, it just won't die.

Yes, I realize I should be working, ma'am.

I will stop passing notes in class.

Marie said...

I should be working too, but I just had an insane day that involved water. Maybe I'll write about it tomorrow. It involved water and the car, and water and the laundromat, but not at the same time.

I'm more and more pissed about the damn gravy boat. What is so hard about attempting to open up a little bit? I know we all have barriers but if you see a cliff and back up, you'll never get to the bottom of it.

Marie said...

Ax, that Newton story is incredible. Wonder what happened to my Newton...I think I gave it to my mother.