Merrill Markoe's Blog, page 9

If this doesn't appear to work, click on thru to our good friend You Tube. And Happy 2011.

Driving to the airport yesterday to pick up my nephew , and there it was. The most amazing double rainbow ever. I knew I had no choice but to take on the mantle. The torch has been passed.

Yes, its a virtual Santa fest. Time to have all the fun with Santa that 2010 can afford. First, something that I have been wanting to do ever since they started selling complicated holiday animatronics in October and putting them on closeout by November .

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And now that it is,at last, the week before Christmas… of course it is time to re-acclimate my dogs to all the important signposts before the big day hits.

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Damn. Contest is over. Not that it was much of a contest. But…I might still give away a few more soon since I dont seem to have made much of a dent, shelf-wise. Stay tuned.

Well… the holidays are almost here. And so, in the spirit of giving, but also in the spirit of clearing space on my book shelves, I would like to give away about ten books.   I need the shelf space to house the 9 foot pile of books by other people that are balancing like a tower on a table in my office. And its just too painful for me to throw out my own books.

So, if you would like a book by me, write to me c/o this website or my Facebook page and leave your name. I will write you back if you are one of the first ten. AND to make it even more presenty,  I will  sign it to whoever you want. Unless its for Sarah Palin. I don't want to facilitate any present giving on her behalf.

ALSO: If for some reason you would like a copy of 'Its My Fucking Birthday" in French or German, that is something I would be especially delighted to send you.  I have a bunch of them and I only need one of each to be amused. Otherwise, I get to pick the book…because, come on, you can give it as a gift!! A gift that looks personalized and cost to you: Nothing!! Boy oh boy. You are like the luckiest person ON EARTH.

Well… the holidays are almost here. And so, in the spirit of giving, but also in the spirit of clearing space on my book shelves, I would like to give away about ten books.   I need the shelf space to house the 9 foot pile of books by other people that are balancing like a tower on a table in my office. And its just too painful for me to throw out my own books.

So, if you would like a book by me, write to me c/o this website or my Facebook page and leave your name. I will write you back if you are one of the first ten. AND to make it even more presenty,  I will  sign it to whoever you want. Unless its for Sarah Palin. I don't want to facilitate any present giving on her behalf.

ALSO: If for some reason you would like a copy of 'Its My Fucking Birthday" in French or German, that is something I would be especially delighted to send you.  I have a bunch of them and I only need one of each to be amused. Otherwise, I get to pick the book…because, come on, you can give it as a gift!! A gift that looks personalized and cost to you: Nothing!! Boy oh boy. You are like the luckiest person ON EARTH.

Its the hap hap happiest day of the year for me. The holiday season has officially started. No, I'm not referring to the beginning of Chanukah, which apparently it also is. No, I am talking about the unveiling of this year's Bob Dylan Christmas tableau.

As you can read here, I have been fascinated by Mr. Dylan's Christmas pyrotechnics for a few years now, probably because I am generally fascinated by Mr. Dylan. He is one of the few figures in entertainment I still regard with awe. In fact, I recently re-watched Don't Look Back and liked it better than I did the last time I watched it . What I am saying is that he was a big big deal to me growing up. And I guess because he still looms so large in my consciousness, I am completely entertained by his Christmas decorating ideas.  As I mentioned in last year's post, he and I live generally in the same neighborhood. (At least I do. I have no idea how much time he actually spends at the residence that is widely known to be his.) And that is the extent of my contact with him,( except for the time when I saw him perform at Berkeley High School in the sixties and got to sit on a folding chair right on the very stage.)

I guess what I like most about his Christmas decorating approach is the understatement… reminiscent of the way my irritable Uncle Mike used to put up his lights, after a few too many beers…as though they were thrown at the hedge in a fit of resentful rage in order to shut up my nagging Auntie Annie.  But this year, relatively speaking, Bob has gone all out. He not only appears to have used a ladder for the second year in a row, but he has added to the little winter wonderland display that looms just beyond the fence opening. Now there is not only a pre-lit Christmas tree and  led-reindeer, but five led- candy canes.

So thumbs up to Bob for another seasonal marvel.

Though I have to confess that I will not be truly happy until I see that he has gone to the Do It Center and purchased a few of the new mood altered hyper Santas they're showing for 2010.

We're having people over. My mother in law is here. She wakes up at 7 AM, ready to get an early start on a busy day full of cleaning. Which she wants me to lead. This is pretty much the diametric opposite of my intentions for my life.

Whee.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Yep. These are them.

PS: If this comes up with an error sign, just click thru to Y.T.

I have been cleaning out my office again…an unpleasant task I don't do often enough.  Even after I accomplish it on some level, the place still remains packed full of stuff I can't bring myself to throw away because it has been blessed and/or cursed with the title of 'potential source material.' By that I mean something I might eventually write about.  So some of it ends up on book shelves.  Some of it gets crammed in to files that I forget ever existed until the next time I decide to clean out my office.

That is how I came upon the following.  I am not exactly sure why I ever wrote this or exactly what year this took place.  It contains a Jerry Springer reference, so I guess it was the cusp of the new century.   I think I might have been preparing it for a possible stand-up set or reading series because its a lot more elaborately written than a diary entry.   (Diary entries distinguish and separate themselves from the pack by the sheer intensity of their whining.) Its also precisely the kind of incident I would not have remembered much about had I not written it down. So here it is, in honor of Halloween: My  audition for  reality show host.

THE OTHER SIDE 

I was asked to audition this past week to be the new host of a show called The Other Side—which is apparently a Jerry Springer formatted talk show with a twist. All the guests have had an extraordinary, usually paranormal experience like coming back from the dead or being abducted by aliens or foretelling the future (as opposed to the guests on a regular one of these shows, who are floundering blindly in the present or have had sex with their siblings but are still stuck living on this planet.)  So the producers sent me tapes of the show to watch since I had never seen it.  The shows had topics like "Honey, I love you, but your psychic powers are ruining our relationship!"…which is exactly 180 degrees from any relationship problem I have ever had.  I'm far more acquainted with guys who can't seem to remember that they've actually slept with me, let alone foresee the future.

Another show featured an interview with a woman who had died but instead of seeing the white light, she had seen the squealing sucking horrors of hell. That was a nice show idea, I thought.  Sure, a lot of us may be afraid of death. But now at last, here is a woman who is out to prove that its going to be much much worse than we thought.  Thank you so much for sharing that, madame…nice meeting you and please stay in touch!

So I didn't know why the producers wanted me for this job… unless they were hoping for a host who would undoubtedly goof around with the undead.  Still, I admit I was flattered enough to think that I might as well go to the audition anyway. Just for the life experience and to see what was up.  As I understood it, I was going to be asked to do a test interview. My 'guest' was going to be  a guy whose problem was that he was crippled by anxiety.  Apparently he was so anxious that he was unable to use the phone or drive a car. That sounded kind of interesting.To say nothing of a chance to make a cheery new friend!

Next thing I knew, there I was in a studio,  on a stage with a small set;  mainly a couple of chairs and a plant.  The director explained to me that the producers wanted to see if I was going to be able to handle the emotional moments of the show properly. Then he showed me how I might go over to a seated guest, kneel down beside them and hold  their  hand to offer support.  He cautioned me that at the pre-interview, my anxiety ridden guest had become to over wrought that he had broken down in tears just talking about his problem.  If that should happen again, said the director, this would be a good time for me to extend a little compassion and comfort.

And through it all I was thinking only one thing: 'If this guy is so awash in anxiety that he can't leave his damn house or use his phone, WHAT IS HE DOING GOING  ON A TV SHOW ABOUT THE PARANORMAL?" I might have no choice but to shake him by the shoulders and then slap him!

So obviously I didn't get the job. Which was clearly the best decision for all concerned. But whats weird is that the whole experience ended up making me feel sad and rejected anyway.. despite the fact that I never wanted the job to begin with and would have been too embarrassed to go through with it. It reminded me a little of the time I was asked to go on an audition for a part in a movie and the director said to me "I'm sorry. You did the lines just right but you  seem too smart for the part." And I found myself arguing with him…"No, No…you don't understand. I'm just as dumb as the next person! I swear!"

Happy Halloween.

A year ago I went to The Creation Museum in Kentucky and looked at all the proof that the world was created just 6,000 years ago. Finally it dawned on me that I could help them make their case.