If you read the entry below, you know how I now feel about facebook. Not wanting to let that message of hers just lag into infinity, I finally worked up the courage to send her a response:
Between Debbie McCluney and You
Luanne Askew Kendall October 31 at 1:31am Yes, Debbie you know me. And no, as far as I know Steve doesn't do anything on a computer. His daughter is here (http://www.facebook.com/carsonsmommy26)
and his son is here (http://www.facebook.com/taylor.askew1). If you want to get in touch with him, that is probably the best way.
Luanne
Updates, if any will become available as they happen, and I can bear to deal with them.
I knew as soon as my new sister in law wanted me to sign up, claiming that it would be easier for all of us to coordinate family get-togethers and what not, that I was going to be sorry.
And I was right.
I have been inundated with "Help me with my Farmville", "Sign my petition", "Join my group", "Send me a smile, jelly bean, drink, etc." ad nauseum. I usually just delete or ignore most of them, cause I don't have the time to devote to building a hen house, bulking up somebody's group, or screaming for a cause. I would much rather spend my time here, where I have friends I know and actually talk to, and where it doesn't involve downloading a MULTITUDE of applications to keep in touch. Facebook is more complicated than anything I have ever fooled with, and I ain't the most computer literate person in the world. I didn't even sit down at a computer until I was in my late thirties, something I have mentioned lots of times in various entries here. So I'm a late bloomer. When everybody else was taking computer classes, I was slaving away in art classes. What a shame that years later, I learned that I could incorporate my artistic talents with the computer age.....lol.
After I signed up for Facebook at Kristy's request, it was ok for a bit. I had my new family on my list, we could coordinate things together, and all my wedding pictures went up for the far flung in our family to see. I would answer the occasional request for "send me a kiss" or whatever, and it was ok.
Then some of my friends on here started logging in, and I added them too. The requests for the various applications got heavier, but they understood my schedule when I told them I didn't have time for that kind of thing, and life went on.
Then some of my friends from other sites that I used to talk to wanted to add me, and I agreed to that. I had talked to them before, the site we met on no longer existed as I had known it (Audiogalaxy became Rhapsody, and the rest is history) so it was just a continuation of what we had there. I eventually deleted my MySpace account, because I was never there.
I was always here, like a good little vampire...lol
Then the inevitable started.
The people I went to high school with found me.
Fuck.
Suddenly I had all these people who wanted to "be my friend", "Join the graduates of First Presbyterian School", yadda yadda yadda.
People who at best wouldn't give me the time of DAY when we were in high school, and at worst bullied me and picked on me, suddenly wanted to be my BFF and have me help them build pig pens, and what not.
So let me get this straight. For 4 years you wouldn't even SPEAK to me, and NOW you want to be my best friend???
I don't fucking think so, pardon my French...
Girls who teased me unmercifully about my weight, my glasses, my braces, my less than stellar wardrobe suddenly wanted to trade secrets. Don't get me wrong- some of my best friends in high school also cropped up, and I am glad to have them back in my life, but damn.
Guys who wouldn't spare me a second glance suddenly wanted to pop up and tell me I'm hot, how's it going, am I coming to the 30th reunion (yes, I really am that old)....(and no, I didn't)
So, I take it with a grain of sand. In this day and age, you're either connected and take the good with the bad, or you live in a bunker in the middle of Butt Fuck, Montana and talk to goats. All things have a light and a dark side, just like the Force and duct tape.
Then on Tuesday, all that complacency blew up in my face.
When I was 18, I decided to take a break from college. I had worked with my dad for a year, and I decided I wanted to take a trip. Alone.
My mother was less than thrilled. But then again, my mother was from a time where women simply didn't throw a bag in their car and take off alone. It just wasn't heard of. But what the hell. I never was one to do things exactly the way my mom, or anyone else, did.
Part one of the trip was to go see a friend of mine graduate from college for the first time- she managed to earn herself several degrees at three different colleges, and we were very close. And yes, she has as low an opinion of Facebook as I do...lol. So after work, I loaded up the car, and headed to Spartanburg, SC, to see her, party with her and her friends, and just in general relax and find some space of my own. That was about 4 days of a two week, give or take, trip.
After all the partying, on Sunday I decided to head to Gadsden, Alabama to spend some time with my maternal grandmother. I needed to be old fashioned mothered, and she was the optimum choice for said experiment. Of course, again my mom didn't appreciate that worth a damn, because she had always thought her mother was "ignorant" and "unyielding" because all they ever did was fight.
Funny, all my mom and I ever did was fight too...go figure....
And I think it pissed my mom off alot that grandmama and I got along when I was a teenager, when she didn't. Such is life.
So off I went, driving across three states, landing at grandma's house (and yes, while I did go over the river, there were few woods, but alot of mountains...lol).
I got there, Grandma Ann took good care of me, fed me monster amounts of her home cooking, we went to church together, went shopping together, I had hours of time to do needlework, and just relax in the slow moving, old fashioned environment that was Gadsden at the time. I visited relatives with her, cooked with her, and just in general relaxed some more. The only issue I had was with my uncle (mom's brother). He would come over to eat because he was too fucking lazy to get a job and put food in his own house (which he didn't have to pay for because he had wrangled it out of Grandma after Grandaddy died). He would be shovelling food into his mouth with one hand, and waving a bible at me with the other, telling me I had to get right with God.
Lovely. But thankfully his visits were short, and I was after all bigger and stronger than he was, so I wasn't worried too much.
While I was there, I also spent some time with my cousin Debbie. She was a year younger than I was, a senior in high school, and had a monstrous crush on this guy in her class. She also thought I was the living end, because I was in college, AND I had a car, AND I was old enough to drink legally at the time. So when she finally worked up the courage to ask this guy out, she asked if she could borrow my car (I had a burgandy buick regal, her mom had a volkswagon bug- do the math) and if I would buy her a six pack of beer to take with them.
I was an idiot, and I wanted to be her best friend. What can I say. I also had issues with self confidence....and feeling like the cool older cousin was great for my ego.
Besides, I had found out, through Debbie, that a guy that had been 2 years ahead of me in high school was not only living there, but had asked about me. And he and I had a date, and he was picking me up, so what the hell. Everybody was going out to have a good time.
My date went well, we talked alot about high school and what not, but there wasn't any spark or chemistry or hoopty or whatever you kids call it these days. I just wasn't feeling him, ya know? So we parted company, I went inside, and the next morning, Debbie came by to drop off the car.
She was ecstatic. She thought she had made a good impression on her man, what with the beer and the classy car, et al, and she was sure everything was paved all the way to the altar. At 17, I guess you can feel like that without too much embarrassement. These days 12 year olds know better, but back then...
So she wanted to know if I wanted to go with her to the mall. She wanted to go by where this guy worked, flirt a little, and see if he wanted to go to the movies when he got off work in an hour. Since it was something I wanted to see as well, she asked if I wanted to go, sort of as moral support. I agreed, cause what the hell else was going on? Nothing, so off we went.
We talked about boys, we talked about drinking, we talked about the kinds of things girls are wont to talk about.
We got to the mall, and Debbie introduced me to Michael.
*pause*
He was adorable. Blonde haired, blue eyed, tall, even for me, and nicely built. great sense of humor, loved to talk, the works.
And he absolutely could not abide having Debbie around.
She was flirting her ass off, hair flipping, giggling, the works, and he was having none of it. Instead, he was talking to me about my college courses, comparing it to their high school, with the occasional flippant comment thrown to Debbie now and then.
And I was head over heels in love. I hid it well. I wandered off to look around the store so they could talk, but it always ended up with them following right behind me, mostly because he was following right behind me. It was heart breaking, looking back at it now, because Debbie really thought he was it. And she never stood a chance with him, with or without me in the picture. It was that obvious he didn't care about her that way. He tolerated her the way guys like that tolerate a younger sister.
So eventually she got around to asking him if he wanted to go to the movies, and the first thing out of his mouth was "Is Luanne going?"
He's looking at me, Debbie is standing behind him nodding furiously in my direction, and so I said yes.
So we went. Mike insisted on sitting between us, claiming he could look like a stud with two beautiful women, one on each side. Debbie ate it up like you would expect. I don't even remember what we went to see, but I do remember how warm his hand was when he slid it under my jacket to hold my hand.
He gave Debbie a ride home, I went back to Grandmama's house, and I watched tv, and ate dinner, and talked like I was actually there, but I wasn't.
Later that night, "past a decent hour" as my grandmama said, the phone rang. It wasn't that late, not for a worldy college girl (it was only 9 pm) but my grandma was old fashioned, so she *harumphed* a couple of times as she handed me the phone.
It was Mike, and he was upset. He wanted to talk to me, and suggested we meet at the Cherry Street park, a place I had grown up walking to and playing in all my life whenever I visited my grandparents.
Grandmother was not impressed...lol.
Decent women didn't do things like that, but she trusted me (which was more than my own mother would have done) because she knew how I had been raised, and that I wouldn't do anything to get into trouble.
So off I went, and as I got out it started to rain. There was an old field stone building, arched doorways at either end, and I ran for it, just as Mike ran in from the other side. We giggled at each other, and I asked him what was going on. We stood in the center of this arch, watching the rain pouring down in sheets, and he told me how he felt about Debbie. She was a good kid (talk about damning with faint praise, at that age) but it just wasn't what he wanted at that point in his life. Girls his age bored him, because it was all about clothes and makeup and partying, etc.
Everybody who EVER heard this conversation please raise your hand....
So I asked him what he did want.
He wanted me.
No one had ever wanted me. I wasn't what you would call the multi-dating type. For reference please see the above rant about the guys in my class now hunting me up on Facebook...
I was awkward, tall for my age, not real cool.
He wanted me anyway. And for all the reasons that most guys didn't.
Then he stepped in, put his hand on my cheek, and kissed me.
That kiss will probably go down in history as the most romantic movie type kiss in my life. He put his arms around me, and when my knees started to give out, he lowered me to the old stone floor, and kissed me again. The rain was pouring outside, there was thunder and lightning, and I was head over heels in love for the very first time in my young life.
After we talked for another hour, I told him I had to get home before Grandma locked me out. He asked if he could see me again before I left, and I told him he had to take care of things with Debbie first, but I gave him my address and phone number back home, and told him to write me when he decided what he wanted to do. He agreed, and we both went our separate ways.
Apparently he talked to Debbie, because while I didn't talk to her but once before I left, I did have the dubious pleasure of her dad, my uncle, coming over for lunch the day before I left. She had talked to him, and here he came up the front stairs for lunch. He came in, sat at the table, and just went berserk. He was swinging that bible at me like it was a fly swatter, calling me every nasty heathenish name he could think of, prefacing every sentence with "My girlfriend on the 700 Club told me that you were a______"
See, my uncle was convinced that one of the choir singers on the show was his girlfriend because while she was singing, she was looking right at him through the tv, and he just knew God wanted them to be together.....
He swore at me like any good Christian, threatened me, swung that bible at me, and while it is not one of my happiest memories of him, what came next was.
My grandma, all 5 foot nothing of her, stepped out of the kitchen, pointed the cooking fork she had in her hand to turn her homemade fried chicken with, and she said "Now you listen to me. You will not talk to my granddaughter that way, I don't care of you ARE my son. She is a good girl, she has done nothing wrong, and Debbie is just going to have to learn that if she is going to have doins with menfolk, that she is occasionally going to get her heart broke. Now either clean up your filthy mouth, or get your feet out from under my table and hit the road."
I have never been so proud of that woman in my life, and I took her out to dinner that night to say thank you. I also bought her flowers, and had one of my needlework pieces framed so she could have it.
Debbie called, and said she was going to make things work with Mike. I felt like ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag, but I wished her well, and I headed back to Macon.
A day after I got back, I got my first letter from Mike. It was full of how much he loved me, how happy he was when he was with me, how much he missed me. He was going to work at the World's Fair that summer, and he was going to save all his money so he could come see me. He had talked to Debbie, she hadn't taken it well (no surprise there) but he felt ok about everything. I wrote him back, saying the same things, telling him about school, about working as a cocktail waitress, and how much I missed him.
Two days later the phone rang. My mom called to me in my room and said it was Debbie, and she wanted to say hi.
Suffice it to say that what followed in the next 30 minutes on the phone bore little resemblence to someone who wanted to say hi. When mom heard my end of the conversation, she picked up the phone in her room and listened in.
What she heard curled her hair, and mine too. According to Debbie, I had ruined her life, she was never going to talk to me again, she swore like a sailor, using words even I had never heard, and that certainly my mother would have never heard in polite conversation, or any OTHER kind of conversation, much less USED, and she was insisting that I had turned her into a......
Lesbian.
That's right folks. I have the power to take women and turn them against men and into lesbians by sheer force of will. Amazing how that kind of power makes you feel, ain't it...
My mother had a conniption. Not the funny, Bill Cosby "her head split down the middle and a flame wrapped skull appeared" conniption.
My mother had a knock down, drag out FIT.
She called me everything in the book short of a dirty little white girl, and would have gone there if my Dad hadn't intervened. My dad seemed to understand a little bit better what was going on, mostly because I had told him what had happened, and he could see from the look on my face just how badly this was upsetting me. So he got my mom away from me, finished the conversation with Debbie (I could still hear her screaming into the phone, and her mom in the background), and then got me to my room. He held me till I stopped crying, and then he asked me point blank if I loved this guy. I told him yes. And he said "Fine. Then we will work everything out."
And I trusted him. He was my dad, and he had always helped me when the chips were really down, and he would do it now. He went off to talk (calm down) my mom, and then the next day we had a nice long conversation, all three of us, and we decided we would let things happen the way they were intended to happen, and they would try to talk to Debbie.
THAT conversation was never repeated to me. Suffice it to say, Debbie and I were not on speaking terms ever again.
Mike and I wrote back and forth all summer. It was glorious to have someone who felt that way about me at that time, and I was reveling in it. He sent me postcards from the fair, with flowers drawn on them. I know it doesn't sound like much now, but back then......
Shortly after classes started, I came home around noon, to have lunch and get ready for work. When I walked into the house, Mama was downstairs in the kitchen. When I walked in, she stopped what she was doing and told me Grandmama had called. I asked her if everything was ok with her, she said yes, and then she asked me if the name of the guy that Debby and I had fought over was Michael Adams. I said yes, why, was Debbie causing trouble again?
For one of the few times in my life, my mom walked over, sat down next to me and put her arms around me. She said no, that grandmama had called because she had bad news.
Michael. My beautiful boy. Mike had been coming home from work one night, and a drunk driver had crossed the center line and hit him head on. Mike was killed instantly. I was never going to hear his voice, feel his arms around me, or feel that way with him again. He was just gone.
And the kid that hit him was just that. Some kid who had conned an adult into buying him beer, and was driving hammered.
I have been a bartender for 30 years. I have carded people who were forty just so I could keep from selling to minors ever again. I quit drinking for a year, making sure that all my college buddies had a safe ride when we all went out.
A week after he died, I got a letter from Michael. Full of love and excitement about the fact that he had the money to come see me. How he was looking forward to being with me and showing me how much he loved me.
That was 30 years ago.
On Tuesday, I logged into Yahoo to check my email. THIS is what I found:
*******************
Hi Luanne,
Debbie McCluney wants to be friends with you on Facebook.
Debbie McCluney
Debbie says, "Well..hi dont i know you? british columbia...really?? Steve not have a page?".
Thanks,
The Facebook Team
*****************************
Steve is my asshole brother- haven't talked to him since he showed up to Daddy's funeral drunk, for obvious reasons.
I have yet to figure out what I am going to do. Steve's son and daughter are on facebook, and certainly have better access to their dad than I do, more or less. He doesn't treat them any better than anyone else, so they pretty much don't have much to do with him either.
I hate Facebook.
COMMENTS
You can block all apps on Facebook. You can also change your username, so new peeps won't find you as easily. It's your account, so YOU choose how you want to run it. *Hugs*
Scott and I are debating getting aland line, now that we have a house unto ourselves. Making long distance calls using the cell phone is quite frankly eating us out of house and home, and not in a good way.
So I am entertaining all thoughts as to the best long distance plan available to make calls between Canada and the US. This is not only so that I can keep up with my growing young un (who just turned 10, thank you very much) but to also be able to call my friends from here, and they can call me, without me having to take out a second mortgage....
Gimme yer best shot, boys and gulls.....
COMMENTS
I would check VoIP services; such as Skype, MagicJack, and the such. I think (not 100% sure) that they provide free calling between US and Canada; and provide you with a real phone number. You just need internet ... which I'm guessing you have -_o
I know vonage does free international stuff! but I dont know whats up there....
So eh....is that a southern accent you have??? cause its pretty strange (LOL)
I made a pit stop at the store to pick up some odds and ends for dinner tonight. As I am walking out the door, I notice the woman in front of me.
She has an environmentally conscious bad that is SCREAMING save the planet, kiss a whale, whatever you want all over it, slung over her shoulder....
Her groceries?
In two separate plastic bags, one in each hand...
First part? Last night's little debacle.
Since everybody got the email about the latest round of "letting people go" for the "good of the company" (bearing in mind these people that were "let go" knew more about running that golf club than anybody I know, and were damn good at their job), last night was a little on the depressed side. There was me (of course) two chefs, two servers (Pam and Mimi), the dishwasher (Desmond) and Kat (the supervisor). None of us were feeling real frisky, because all of us have lost friends in this latest round of hatchet jobs. But as I am wont to do, I made everybody giggle (mostly with renditions of what I remember from getting so hammered last week) and off we go to get set up in our respective areas.
What we were working was a rehearsal dinner for the people who are having their function there on Friday night. Bar opened at 8 pm, when the people were supposed to be there, dinner was at 8:30, bar closes at 10:30, everybody out.
Oh HELL no.
8 pm. Nobody is there.
8:15. Still nobody, and we're all watching the Canucks game (again, a stupendous waste of time.)
8:30 Rob (one of the chefs) walks out of the kitchen with the function sheet, that has all the particulars listed, and points out that at the top of the sheet it says THURSDAY October 20th. Well, it is the 20th, but definitely NOT Thursday.
8:45 Kat starts calling managers. I called Carissa the salesperson. Everybody said the same thing, that they had talked to this woman that morning, and made sure that they would be there THAT night.
Kat got the number for the bride, and called her cell. The phone was picked up, but all Kat heard was her talking to somebody else, no answer to her repeated hellos.....so she called back, and this time got her voice mail.
9:00 While Kat tries to call the manager again from her cell phone, I went up to monitor the house phone in case this woman called back.
She didn't.
At 9:15, a HERD of people came rolling through the door. The food was still sitting on the trolleys and in the hotbox, because obviously we are not going to put out food if the people aren't there yet. So both chefs and servers are standing there waiting for these people to file into the main room, so that they can get the food set out.
And here. comes. the. Bride.....
"Can we start eating? It's after 9...."
SERIOUSLY??
From Kat, the supervisior:
"Ma'am, if you and your guests will find your seats in the main room, we will finish setting up the buffet, and then you and your fiance can go through, and I will start calling the other tables."
"No, we'll just all go together, and we'll go now"
And there they went. The chefs are still trying to get the food out, and these people are standing in line, all the way past the bar, plates in hand, and tapping their feet.....
Suffice it to say, they are NOT endearing themselves to us.
They had booked this function for 48.
SIXTY FOUR showed up to eat.
They had booked in a bartender *waving*
I might as well have been a piece of furniture for all the attention these people paid to me.
SIX tried to sit at what basically amounts to a pub table and 4 chairs. They had plates FULL of food, they cram other chairs up, sit down, and then EN MASSE, they turn around and look at me.
Nobody said a word.
Nobody asked me a thing.
They had no silverware, because the silverware was on the tables that were SET for these people in the other part of the room. They had nothing to drink, because all the full water glasses?
Yup. On the set tables in the other part of the room.
For fifteen minutes, while the kids were hurriedly setting up another table for these nitwits, these people just stared at me.
Kat came behind the bar, I whispered what was going on, and asked her if she wanted me to take care of the table for her. She immediately said no, that if they were going to be that rude, they could damn well sit there or get up and have some manners and ask me for whatever they needed.
I love this gal. Good thing I trained her to be bigger than life like me, cause she is all of 5 foot nothing.....
These people acted like animals. They treated all of the staff like shit, they were crude, vulgar, mannerless, and demanding. They demanded that the food buffet be left up until 10:30, which is when their function was supposed to be over, and then everybody up and left at 9:30, more or less.
I entered the same numbers for the end of the function that I did for the beginning, I put up what little I had out, and locked everything up because everybody was leaving, and Kat said to shut it down. I finished fast (what was there to do???) and then went to check with Kat to see if there was anything else I could do for her.
She, bless her heart, was standing on the other side of the bar, talking to one of the "decorator guys" (yeah, you can fill in the so gay he glows remark here, too.) She was explaining when the main room upstairs would be set for their wedding on Friday, where everything would be, and how the bill would be done for the night we had just endured. She informed him that she had put in a total of 64 people....
"But we only booked the function for 48."
That may be, but you had 64 show up and eat.
"But we only agreed to pay for 48"
No, you agreed and signed off on paying for however many of your friends and family showed up for this little shindig.
"Are you sure? Maybe you counted wrong."
I might have, but the two other people who counted, inlcuding the bartender *waving* counted up the same number of people. You had SIXTY FOUR people eating tonight.
"We had a bartender?"
The reception is Friday night, upstairs in the big room.
There will be 225 of these people in attendance.
I am not looking forward to working tomorrow night.......
COMMENTS
You have the patience of saints.
No, that's not right.
Like, if Superman bred with some Saints. You guys have the patience of that lovechild.
And here we go. Ever since the bowling alley people bought the country club, it has been one thing after the other. These people have not one CLUE how to run a place like this, and are too arrogant to ask people who DO know. They would rather let things go downhill than ask for help- yet they are making the most assinine decisions in one direction to save money, when in the long run, it has done nothing but COST them money. And we of course get caught in the middle.
First they fired all the upper management people, including the General manager who had worked his way up from caddy to become GM. You just don't fire someone who has that kind of knowledge and background, it just isn't smart.
But for these people it is all about money- and it cost too much to pay these people.
Then it was trying to save a few bucks with stupid shit, like turing off the parking lot lights before everybody had left at night, causing more than a few unsettling walks to the car for alot of us.
This past year, the mandatory staff meetings got cancelled, because if you make a meeting mandatory, you have to pay the people who come to the meetings, and they didn't want to do that. So things started to slide, stuff wasn't getting done properly, and so on and so forth....
Now we have gotten to the end of this golf season. All of us are heaving a big sigh of relief, and gearing up for the upcoming Christmas party season.
And the next round of firings have begun. NOW middle management is getting hit hard.
There have been 5 so far. One of which is the security person we have to walk around and make sure everybody behaves themselves during Christmas party season with us. And some have outright quit, to save the trouble.
I checked. Our financial statement just came out, and the banquets side of this venture raked in $500,000 last year in revenue.
That's HALF A MILLION dollars, people. That I and my bunch netted for these people.
Now I know everybody is saying "Don't worry, you are good at what you do, but you'll find another job if necessary, etc."
Here's the thing.
Most of the people there are kids. Either in school and living at home, or young enough to be able to move on.
I, however, am neither of those things. When I got this job, I was certain that this would be the last job I had, because I like working there. It is flexible enough to suit me and my lifestyle, but generates enough income for me that Scott and I can do the things we want to do.
I am too old to be starting over at this point in my life.
Please keep your fingers crossed. I have NO idea what is going to happen in the next few months. I do not want to be out job hunting at this point in my life.
I'm seriously scared.
Thing is, if these "people" default on the loan, the country club reverts back to Wesbild, the people who owned it when I started.
From my lips to God's ears, truly....
COMMENTS
Ok since when did Bowling alleys buy COUNTRY CLUBS!!
Good luck to you, I will say a little prayer that everything works out. This sounds exactly what happened when the corporate IHOP store I worked at got bought by an individual. Out the window went all our stock first thing, then they started with cutting things back, letting people go who had been there the longest (too expensive to pay them!) etc etc....so many people quit (including myself) that the new owner was obliged to hire illegal aliens. When he was caught and busted, the store was closed....from good corporate store to empty lot in less than 5 years. FUBAR!
lol poor girl sounds like the hillbillies in Hollywood , bowling alley people do not run Country clubs, hell they don't even cater to the same class of people. what in the hell were they thinking.
Sounds like these folks were looking for a quick buck and figured they could run it just like a bowling alley which obviously doesn't work. Keeping my fingers crossed for you too.
First Barbara Billingsley, now...
Actor Tom Bosley of "Happy Days" dies: report
Tue Oct 19, 10:51 AM PDT
Actor Tom Bosley, whose career spanned five decades and included his role as the father of a typical American family on popular 1970s TV comedy "Happy Days," has died at 83, according to media reports on Tuesday.
Celebrity news website TMZ cited family members as saying Bosley died at his home in Palm Springs, California and recently he had been battling a staph infection.
A spokesman for Bosley was not immediately available for confirmation.
Bosley's everyday manner and looks helped him forge a career in Hollywood as a character actor and guest star in a number of popular 1960s television shows such as "Route 66," "Dr. Kildare," "Marcus Welby, M.D." and "Bonanza."
But it was on the long-running "Happy Days" that he enjoyed his biggest success, playing the father of the show's central character Richie Cunningham, who was a teenager growing up in the 1950s.
"Happy Days" ran from 1974 to 1984 and was a smash hit series that made Henry Winkler (Fonzie) a major Hollywood star and sparked the adult success of Ron Howard, who played Richie and would later go on to a career as a film director.
When the show ended, Bosley returned to character work on TV with roles in numerous popular series such as "The Love Boat" and "Murder, She Wrote." He continued working well into the 2000s with parts in series such as "That '70s Show."
(Editing by Jill Serjeant)
COMMENTS
Another really nice guy. I mean, who couldn't like Mr. C? He was the dad I wish I'd had. RIP Tom, you gave me a lot of laughs and good times.
See, this is what I get for partying like it was 1999 the other night. I get to put up with assholes of all races, and religions.
Last night it was a 10 year high school reunion. Most of them were pretty nice, except for the twatwaffle (thanks guys) who decided that she was going to stand on my last nerve in high heels. And believe me when I tell you, she was WAY too short to be copping that kind of attitude with ME.
She toddles up to the bar, and looks at me, then starts talking to some guy who has sat down next to her. So I asked her if I could get her anything, she looks at me like I just asked if she wanted a shit cocktail, then goes back to talking. So fine, I leave her to it. I ask the guy she is talking to if HE wants anything, and he just ignored me. So fine. I went back to the well, where there were people standing, and took care of them.
After about the third time I walked past these two, I hear this long drawn out sigh from her....so I look at her, and THIS is what I get...
"Do you think you could possibly get me a glass of club soda, PLEASE???"
Oh hell no. I know you did NOT just talk that shit to me.
"Of course I can, would you like a lime with that?"
"Well, of course, what kind of bartender ARE you..."
*growl.......*
After about three times of this, and might I add she did NOT tip, I was about ready to pull her apart like bbq pork and scatter her to the four winds.
Then here come the drinkers...they have had enough canapes to feed a small country at this point, so now they aer ready to party...
"I need four shots of cuervo."
One of the first things I got hammered on wednesday.....
"I need four Burt Reynolds shooters (1/2 Captain Morgan, 1/2 butter ripple)
One of the second things I got tore up on...
"I need four king kongs"
That would be 1/2 crown royal, 1/2 banana liquer. Not one I got into, but the smell was enough to top off the rest of them...
"I need four Vegas bombs."
Okay, I will admit that one brought me up short. So I asked him what was in it, and I'd happily make it for him.
"Well, if you don't know, maybe you have no business working as a country club bartender. The bartenders at ********* (the cheaper golf courses) know how to make it.
Well, that did it. I looked him straight in the eye, and told him straight up:
Now you listen to me. I have been doing this for 30 years. I have FORGOTTEN more drinks than you'll EVER think up. And just because I don't recognize it by the name you Canadians call it, doesn't mean I haven't made hundreds of them in the States where we call them something different. Now, if you WANT the drink, I suggest you give me the ingredients.
Well, I must say, homey straightened right up, apologized profusely, told me what he needed (1/2 crown royal, 1/2 butter ripple, bombed into Red Bull)
The Red bull was the final straw. Were it not for Dramamine, homey would have been wearing his red bull at that point, because I was having SERIOUS deja vu at that point, and all I wanted to do was puke...lol
And that....was LAST night- I can't very well stand her at work and type about this fiasco I am stuck in now. But it is tuning up to be about as bad, only in Korean
COMMENTS
People think they can talk however they want to the serving people of the world. I LOVE it when they get a little of that crap back at them. and p.s. the Burt Reynolds shooter sounds yummy...I may have to investigate that one first hand!
I,m sorry hun , want to barrow my bat?
*pat pat hug* At least you know the badger loves you and would bite those motherfuckers in the crotch with a steel trap if she was there.
Wouldn't that be amusing?
It sounds like they are wannabes, people with real class and breeding, just dont talk like that to people who try to help them. They sound like asses.
Here's a good one... I ordered a rusty nail
Was asked what was in it... told her... and my bar keep gave me:
Scotch and CRANBERRY juice
o.O
And she wondered why I didn't drink it and sent it back *sigh*
And writing in my journal-
Bear in mind, I am at WORK.
Bartending for a 10 year high school reunion. I plan on poking my ears out with knitting needles when I get home from the sheer hip hop overload.
And NO, they are not drinking either that much or that creatively.
And the Canucks....
Well, I made the mistake of making a rather snarky comment under my breath just as a customer walked up. He asked what the score was (2-0 LA), and then asked what I had said as I turned around.
"I said just like my daddy used to say, they couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with a handful of sand."
Poor Canadians....they just NEVER know what I am going to say next....lol
Red Dragon:
1/2 151 Rum
1/2 Raspberry Sour Puss
good GRIEF.....
Last night was the end of golf season party for work.
I think I may have hit my personal best for stupidity.
When I finally got up, and could stand without puking, I hunted for my bar tab.
Thanks to buying shooters for the kids my bar total for last night was.....
*drum roll*
COMMENTS
Fuck. Me. Running. o.o
You gave me a SHITTY TIP TOO!!! :p
Odd....it LOOKED like a guy I was getting tray after tray of drinks from...lol
And let me tell you summ-unh else, sugar....
$200....is not a shitty tip...lol
Even in Canada....lol
Shit!!!! 200 Bucks for a tip is more than I make in a week!
I so need to become a bartender
Source: By Lindell-Donahue, Associated Content
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Tue Oct 12, 2010, 3:50 pm EDT Comments
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Every October, the Witch's Dungeon Classic Movie Museum in Bristol, CT opens its doors for a glimpse into horror movie history. Featuring visual and audio replicas from classic monster movies, the museum has garnered attention from film greats like Vincent Price and Mark Hamill.
Unlike a typical museum, the Witch's Dungeon was built in a small building that resembles a cabin or shack. Guests make their way through the seven to eight minute tour with brief stops at movie re-creations that include "The Fly", "The Creature from The Black Lagoon", and "Dracula," among others.
The museum was created in 1966 by a then young Cortlandt Hull with help from his father. As word of the museum spread, he garnered more support and was able to expand it during the 1980s. As it stands today, the museum features 14 different displays filled with recreations and actual movie props.
Before guests enter, a recording from the late Vincent Price introduces the museum, but the highlights of the museum are its lifesize character replicas. Price himself is portrayed in two. The first is his character from "The Abominable Dr. Phibes". The decaying skeleton-like Dr. Phibes barely resembles Price, but "House of Wax's" Professor Henry Jarrod definitely boasts Price's unique look.
Other highlights include Boris Karloff's Frankenstein, Max Schreck's Nosferatu, and one of the creepy Mole People from the 1956 film of the same name. The accurate details in the creations, along with sound effects and dialogue from films make it seems like the creations could come alive at any second.
Among the recreations is an original creature created by Cortlandt Hull. Zenobia the Gypsy Witch has become the mascot for the Witch's Dungeon and she appears on the logos and banners supporting the museum. Her character is more cartoon-ish than others though still a classic witch as een in many horror films.
Lines to enter the museum can be hours long during its annual one-month opening, but there is plenty to enjoy while it dwindles. A large projection screen plays some of the featured classic horror movies. There is no set schedule, so at any given time you can watch films like "House of Wax," "Frankenstein", or "The Mummy".
A souvenir shop in an adjacent trailer hosts T-shirts, posters, and a special "Witch's Dungeon: 40 Years Of Chills" documentary DVD that focuses on the creation, expansion, and popularity of the attraction.
The October-only dates may seem inconvenient, but the Witch's Dungeon plans on expanding to a year-round attraction known as the "Silver Screen Movie Museum and Archive." Along with the life-size figures, props and backdrops, the museum will also feature props from other films like a headpiece from "The Exorcist", props from "E.T", and animation cels from classic cartoons and animated films.
Until the new museum opens, the Witch's Dungeon Classic Movie Museum remains a must-see for horror movie fans. Cortlandt Hull has put his life into the museum and it shows with the impressive displays.
The Witch's Dungeon Classic Movie Museum is open on select weekends during October. Check their official website for more information.
COMMENTS
Cortlandt Hull....now there's a blast from the past. I used to hear about him while reading Famous Monsters. If I was closer I would go for sure! Sounds terriffic.
Scientists discover a fish they name “dracula.” What’s the origin of the word, and does the fish sleep in a coffin?
October 13, 2010 No CommentsShare
Scientists recently released a list of new species that were discovered in the Greater Mekong Region, which comprises parts of Cambodia, Laos, Myanmar, Thailand, Vietnam, and China.
One of the more peculiar species on the list is a translucent fish that scientists call “dracula.” The fish actually was first found in 2009, in a fish tank in Britain, but was only discovered in the wild this year.
The literary Dracula was known as “king of the vampires” in Bram Stoker’s novel, published in 1897.
The origin of the name is disputed. But the predominant belief is that “Dracula” was the nickname of Prince Vlad III Dracul of Wallachia (now part of Romania.) The brutal prince was also known as “the Impaler.” It’s said that he oversaw the murder of tens of thousands of rivals, criminals, and other enemies. Take a stab at his preferred method of execution.
(If this sounds scary, consider this: The word “hello” actually originates from danger. Why? Learn the genesis of this everyday word, here.)
Prince Vlad’s father belonged to a secret fraternal order of knights called the Order of the Dragon. This order is supposedly the source of the name “Dracula,” as it translates as “son of Dracul.”
Let’s get back to the fish.
It is only 1.7 centimeters long. And the “dracula minnow,” like its namesake, does indeed have fangs at the front of each jaw. Danionella dracula has been observed using its bone “fangs” to stab other fishes.
The first one...
"Find your new love!"
The second one...
"You know she wants it!"
The third one...
"A year's supply of free diapers!"
COMMENTS
I got "Make your penis 3 inches longer by the end of the week." Feh.
Well at least the spammers got it in the right order!
Ummm ... babie or adult diapers?
I worked another wedding Saturday- They came in early, but fotunately they also left early, so all was right with the world.
Then I met the DJ......
He came over after setting up and doing his sound checks. This guy was 6'6", black, wearing a pink button down and a hat that would have made Sinatra weep for joy.
He ordered a Stella, I got it, traded a few lines with him, and he looks at me with a perfectly straight face and says:
"You're funny."
Me?
"Nah, I'm southern, it's just an occupational hazard."
So he calls me sweetness, sings along with the Diana Ross part of "Endless Love", is so gay he glows in the dark, and his take on me?
He said I was flamboyant.....
*snark*
Then I went to Safeway for last minute accessories for tonight's dinner, I turn around to get my wallet out of my purse, and lo and behold what is standing behind me but a 50 something Elvis wannabe, complete with GIANT gold sunglasses. He listens to me call the clerk darlin', and tells me I have an interesting accent....
I swear, I must be flypaper for freaks.....
COMMENTS
LMAO you get,em girl!! and you are funny you just don't realize it .
No, that was me. I put the freak magnet in your underwire. *cheesy grin*
One of these days, I am going to.....
I am prep cooking some things in anticipation of cooking my first thanksgiving meal for my inlaws here in our new house. The couch won't be here until Halloween, unfortunately, but we still have ample seating around.
The turkey is thawing in the sink (damn thing could be a country unto itself, it is so fricking big), sweet potatos have been roasted off, pecan pie is cooling, cornbread is about to go in for the stuffing.
The whole house smells wonderful, and I have all the windows open to let in the nice breezes that have welcomed a beautiful sunny day.
I also have to work tonight- a 200+ wedding upstairs (for a change) but thankfully it has a bar close time of 10:30, which I guess makes up for it being a hosted bar (probably no tips)
12 people are going to be eating diner tomorrow on my beautifully refinished antigue oak table tomorrow, and I couldn't be happier. But I keep thinking "You know, I should make this or this...."
And Scott of course wants butter tarts...and tells me after I have gone to the store...guess I'll be pitstopping on the way home tonight.
And it is McDonalds for dinner- cause I still have more to do....lol
I love this time of year, but I do miss having Thanksgiving in November- this is just too close to Halloween for comfort.
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For the price of a membership here on the Rave. I have been danicng in and out of Indulgence's journal here lately, ever since she put the line in her journal from "Kodachrome".
Today it was "Sixteen Tons" from Tennessee Ernie Ford, another favorite I grew up with....*chuckling* I laughingly asked her just how old she really was for that one...
I can remember watching from behind the couch, after I was supposed to be in bed, as my parents turned the lights down, and danced around the living room. This is the song they would dance to, along with Andy William's "Moon RIver". But this is the one they always were smiling at each other over...
COMMENTS
I LOVE Roger. Heard all his tunes growing up. Those were the good ol' day!
I read. Alot. Books, magazines, etc.
I am what you would call voracious.
That extends to the journals I read here on VR. Amazingly enough, I don't read the "popular" ones. I don't read Cancer's all that often, I don't read the top ones, and I try to avoid the troublemakers. I read the ones that make me laugh, the ones that make me think, the ones that make me cry.
Tonight I was reading along, when I got to Image's journal. Her's has always been a personal favorite of mine, even before she became a part of the zoo, and we got to trading tales, funnies, recipes, etc.
Today she was talking about how she couldn't stop enjoying things, people in her life, the weather (and having lived in the south, I can definitely relate to her gratitude for cooler climes at this time).
Today I was complaining to my mother in law about work, etc. She listened, commiserated, and let me get it out of my system. She didn't condemn me for what I was doing as a job, she didn't blow me off, acting like my problems were no where near as bad as hers. She was there, just like she has always been since I got here that first day, and she hugged me tight, looked me in the eye and said "yep, you'll do fine."
As I was leaving, she gave me a big hug, as she always does. After that, I headed over to my favorite Thai food place, where the girls know me on site, usually have my food cooking by the time I am on my way in from the parking lot, and I had the most amazing meal.
Then I was off to Walmart to get "stuff to spiffy up with". See, this is our first non-flaky year in our new house, so Thanksgiving is on me- I'm cooking the major stuff, and everybody is bringing something along. I wanted to do some tweaking in a small way to make the house look and feel like the holidays. On the way, my car decided to drive itself over to Scott's work instead of taking me to walmart, so I popped in, met his new trainee (Trevor from Ireland- and yes, fresh OFF da boat Irish....yum).
As I walked into the shop, Trevor saw me coming, and poked Scott to let him know there was someone behind him. He turned around, got this big grin on his face, and jogged over to give me a hug.
"I'm so glad you came by. I miss you. You just made my day".
The weather is cooler outside, but not raining so much yet.
I can see the snow on Mount Baker when I go to work.
I have a job to go to.
I have a family of inlaws that wants to come to my house for Thanksgiving because they know there will be good food, good times, and lots of love.
I have a husband who adores me, and tells me so, and is genuinely glad to see me. We are comfortably well off, we enojy being around each other, and we have friends we enjoy.
And for the first time in a long time, it dawned me yet again that I am very happy here.
What a difference a day makes? No. What a difference a life makes.
COMMENTS
=') You made me smile with a tear in my eye, ya big goob.
Te adoro, muchita.
:)
I got a big grin on my face and a fierce need to hug you sugar ;) You so deserve happiness
Yes it is indeed good to be loved so much and to be happy and content . to bad more people don't think about these things.
Fresh off the boat Irish aye? Yummy
and I know how you feel.....it's about time we all go YAY!
NBC, Bryan Fuller Remaking The Munsters
By Joyce Eng Thu Sep 30, 7:06 AM PDT
Time to move back into the Munster Mansion: NBC and Pushing Daisies creator Bryan Fuller are remaking the 1960s classic sitcom The Munsters, Entertainment Weekly reports.
NBC has ordered a pilot for the project, described as "Modern Family meets True Blood," according to EW. (So, funny and full of unsexy sex scenes?) Director Guillermo del Toro (Hellboy) is also said to be interested in a behind-the-scenes role.
Watch clips from The Munsters
The Munsters — which revolved around an average blue-collar American family who just happened to be monsters — aired from 1964-66 on CBS, running concurrently as ABC's spooky satire, The Addams Family. Shot in black and white, the show was canceled after Batman premiered in color. The show has since spawned several TV movies and the '80s series Munsters Today.
Pushing Daisies' Bryan Fuller heads to Syfy
The Munsters will be Fuller's second TV project this year: He's also adapting the sci-fi novel The Lotus Caves for Syfy.
An e-mail to NBC was not immediately returned.
Would you watch the remake? Which actors would you like to see play the Munsters?
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