MOVIE WEEKEND: LEE DANIELS' THE BUTLER

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

This weekend I have a movie for you about which I have mixed emotions. It's Lee Daniels' The Butler (2013, Rated PG-13, Available on DVD).

I guess we should begin with an explanation of the title. It seems that about two bazillion years ago someone made a movie called The Butler, which has long since disappeared. But because The Butler existed once upon a time, according to the Internet Movie Database, the following occurred: Warner Bros. Pictures released the 1916 silent short film The Butler (1916), and filed a claim with the MPAA to rename this film. The MPAA allowed the Weinstein Company to add Daniels' name in front of the title, under the condition that his name was "75% the size of The Butler". On July 23, 2013, the distributor unveiled a revised film poster, with the title "Lee Daniels' The Butler".

"The Butler" is Cecil Gaines (Forest Whitaker). As a child, his sharecropper father is murdered by a white man. It's unclear to me if the woman played by Vanessa Redgrave is a member of the white man's family or a caretaker in charge of the servants. She takes in young Cecil to make him a "house nigger". He's told he'll learn to serve so that no one will notice he's in the room.

When Cecil becomes a young adult, he takes off for greener pastures and becomes a valet at a swanky hotel. Eventually, he's hired as a butler for The White House. He begins his tenure there during the Eisenhower administration and leaves during the Reagan administration. He's married to Gloria (Oprah Winfrey), and they have two sons. As Gaines serves in The White House, American history swirls around his family, strongly affecting them.

At first, I felt bored with this movie. Forest Whitaker at age 52 and Oprah Winfrey at 60 look kind of old to be the parents of two young teens. Toward the conclusion of the movie when Mr. and Mrs. Gaines are elderly, Oprah's heavy make-up and grey hair look ridiculous. When Cecil Gaines first enters The White House staff room, another butler played by Cuba Gooding, Jr. tells a very crude "joke". The audio is removed at the end of the joke, but what he says is obvious. The joke is not at all necessary.

Oprah Winfrey plays her part over dramatically at times. For the most part, The Butler is just plain miscast. Why so many well-known people in small parts? They don't serve the film well. I felt shocked to see Robin Williams, of all people, playing Dwight Eisenhower. I laughed, and not because Williams is funny. John Cusack, with a strange prosthetic nose, is Richard Nixon. (Richard Nixon: I don't want to say anything negative about that Kennedy boy. I'm sure he's a real nice fellow. But do you really want that spoiled rich son-of-a-bitch fuck to be your next president?) Why is Mariah Carey young Cecil's mother? She doesn't even speak in the movie.

However, the point that bothers me the most is that The Butler is supposed to be based on a real butler in The White House – someone with a different name, who had one son. It's fine with me if the movie is dramatized, but if that's the case, don't say it's about a real person. I wonder how that man's family feels about some of the horrible behavior in this "fictional" family? I would be very upset if someone made a movie based on my life that portrayed me or a relative as an adulterous drunk, with a son who is arrested repeatedly.

But now, let's talk about why I like The Butler. Alan Rickman and Jane Fonda make a surprisingly good Ronald and Nancy Reagan. Winfrey has one beautiful scene in which she defends her husband when he's derided by their militant son: Gloria Gaines: Everything you are and everything you have, is because of that butler. 

The juxtaposition of life in the sheltered confines of The White House against the nearly insane tides of American politics is well done. Parts of the film are moving. Cecil Gaines has a triumph in one fight against "The Man" in The White House, and he succeeds with the assistance of Ronald Reagan. 

I should add that a number of people seem to like The Butler much more than I do (based on IMDb responses), and some are unhappy that Winfrey wasn't nominated for a Best Supporting Actress Academy Award. 

Should you let your children watch? Age 13 and younger, I say "No". Older teens can watch and it could be an especially good time for you to enlighten them about some aspects of American history. As always, I urge you to watch the movie first and then decide if your kids should see it. You might not want to explain what Gloria is up to with the neighbor. Maybe you're too young to know anything about The Black Panthers and wouldn't be able to elucidate that aspect of the movie.

Thus, Lee Daniels' The Butler earns The Janie Junebug Seal of Approval. Watching it is better than skipping it, unless you can't stand Oprah, but it's not good enough for my Highest Approval.

Happy Viewing!


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

FUNDAY WITH WILLY DUNNE WOOTERS CONTINUES

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

On Monday I told you HERE about Willy Dunne Wooters falling out of bed on Sunday, which turned into Funday.

The fun continued during the afternoon as I prepared to grill steaks. We started the grill, and WDW walked out to join me on the deck. As he did so, he closed the door to the house behind him.

Now, you have to understand that the very first time WDW visited my house, I said, Always leave the back door ajar unless you have keys to the house in your pocket or your hand.

Scout had a special talent for locking and unlocking doors. Plus, the back door is finicky. I swear it can lock itself, and that's what it did on Sunday afternoon.

Neither one of us had keys or a phone, so we couldn't call Favorite Young Man, who has a key.

I considered becoming hysterical but decided it wouldn't do much good.

So I descended the deck steps and traversed the yard to a window that doesn't lock well. I pried off the screen and tried to open the window. Couldn't do it.

I went around to the front of the house. Couldn't find a window that would open.

Suddenly Willy Dunne Wooters called out, Miss Junebug! I got the window open!

I rushed to the back yard and told Willy Dunne Wooters to get a ladder. I would climb up and in the window.

But, no! My manly man insisted that he would make the climb. He jumped on the air conditioning unit and prepared to slide through the open window on his tummy. Being ever so aware and wary of my OCD, he stopped and asked me what he should do about the shelves just below the window. He knew he was going to knock over my office supplies. I boldly told him not to worry. Everything could be picked up and put back in its place.

Just move the lamp, I said, so it doesn't break.

Willy Dunne Wooters managed to toss the lamp onto the theater seats, where it landed as lightly as a feather.

Then through the window he went, as we laughed hysterically over the struggle to get through the small space, over the shelves, and onto the floor without landing on his head. I longed to take photos and had actually grabbed the camera from the top shelf, but I didn't quite dare to say, WAIT! I must photograph your rear end and legs sticking out of the window.

As he completed his glide, Willy Dunne Wooters looked very much like this:

Yes, he resembled the Wicked Witch of the East with her feet sticking out from under Dorothy's house.

Willy Dunne Wooters got all the way into the house without breaking any bones. This is going on the blog, I told him.

Then I reminded him about not closing the door, but forgiveness was not required because how could I be angry with such a man?

Ah, Willy Dunne Wooters. I love you so.


Infinities of Wooters love,

Janie Junebug

GRATITUDE TUESDAY: YOU CAN'T CALL ME BIG ASS 'CAUSE I'LL WHOOP YER ASS

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I continue to lose weight with my high protein diet.

I was probably at my chubbiest when I tried to teach high school a few years ago. A number of the kids would pretend to cough to semi-camouflage calling me "Big Ass". I wanted to slap those racist juvenile delinquents and remind them that their butts were even bigger than mine.

I ignored it instead, because I had many more important problems with my students, and I use the term "students" loosely.

Well, no one can get away with calling me Big Ass now. I don't know how many pounds I've dropped, nor how many inches have melted away, but today I went to the dentist to have my teeth cleaned and I wore a dress that I bought about 15 years ago when I was a reporter.

The dress isn't as loose as it used to be, but it isn't too tight, either.

Now, I ask you: Is this a picture of a woman with a big ass?

Case closed. I think my tummy is bigger than my rear end, but I'll keep whittling everything down.

And yes, I know I didn't make my bed this morning. I'm too busy being grateful.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

FUNDAY WITH WILLY DUNNE WOOTERS

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Yesterday was Funday, not Sunday.

Willy Dunne Wooters and I awoke early, as always, and went to church. *snort* We attended the contemporary service and then stayed for the traditional service. *double snort*

All this snorting means we stayed in bed, as we always do. That's where what Willy Dunne Wooters said would happen actually done happened. Remember the post when WDW (always makes me think of WMD, Weapons of Mass Destruction) said that we can't get down on the floor for some fun because we wouldn't be able to get back up? I know. TMI. You can read the post HERE if you missed it or can't remember it, though I don't know how you could forget the ick factor of sex amongst the elderly.

Anyway, we were in bed, and afterwards, I got cold. I couldn't pull up the flannel sheet and the blanket because Willy Dunne Wooters has this special talent for getting his rump on top of them when we play Twister in bed. Here I am, freezing to death in Florida, wearing my birthday suit, and I can't have any covers.

Roll over, I told WDW. He did. It's wasn't enough.

Farther, I told WDW. Still couldn't get those covers out from under his cute little butt.

I NEED COVERS, I told WDW. He rolled even farther, and rolled right out of the bed and onto the floor.

I had the good grace to ask him if he was hurt before I started laughing. He was fine, so we laughed like the maniacs we are; but Willy Dunne Wooters couldn't get up. "His" side of the bed is close to a wall. He was boxed in between the wall and the bed, and it took him forever to crawl backwards enough so he could turn and grab the bed and pull himself back up. While he was fooling around on the floor, I pulled up the covers.

We had another adventure late in the afternoon on Funday, but I'm going to tell you about it some other day when I can't think of a post. Yeah. Like I never have something to say.

Willy Dunne Wooters in church yesterday.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

MOVIE MOVIE WEEKEND: PROMISED LAND & FEAST OF LOVE

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I have two strong candidates for you today. You might want to see both of them.

The first is Promised Land (2012, Rated R, Available on DVD).

Steve Butler (Matt Damon) and his colleague Sue Thomason (Frances McDormand) arrive in a small town as representatives of a company that wants to buy drilling rights for natural gas. At first, they're welcomed. The economy is bad, and people need the money. But then questions and concerns arise from former teacher Frank Yates (Hal Holbrook) and the leader of a grassroots campaign against fracking, Dustin Noble (John Krasinski).

This movie isn't brilliant, but it's interesting and worth watching to see how certain characters evolve. The conclusion has a twist that I didn't see coming. Damon, McDormand, and Krasinski are almost always worth watching. In fact, Damon and Krasinski wrote the screenplay, along with Dave Eggers. Gus Van Sant directed.

I wouldn't watch this movie with young children since it's rated R, but teenagers might learn something from it. I don't know if they'd be interested, though.

Promised Land earns The Janie Junebug Seal of Approval.

And now we have a somewhat older movie: Feast of Love (2007, Rated R, Available on DVD).

Directed by the great Robert Benton, Feast of Love explores those small, intimate moments when we fall in and out of love. Bradley Smith (Greg Kinnear) owns a coffee shop in a small Oregon town where some of the characters meet, and where former professor Harry Stevenson (Morgan Freeman) likes to hang out, sometimes dispensing advice.

Bradley has difficulty finding the right woman. Bradley employs young Oscar (Toby Hemingway), who falls in love at first sight with Chloe (Alexa Davalos). Oscar and Chloe dream of a bright future together. One woman falls in love with another woman, and yet another woman loves a married man. When Harry goes home, he mourns the death of their son with his wife, Esther (the beautiful and dignified Jane Alexander).

I had never heard of this movie until Netflix told me I would probably like it. And I didn't like it. I loved it. Feast of Love has that sweet, magical touch that can only be found with the mystery of love as the central topic and Morgan Freeman as a central character. One might think that all the characters revolve around Bradley because he owns the coffee shop, but Morgan Freeman is the sun against whom everything rises and sets.

This movie is not for children. It has some pretty graphic sex scenes and nudity. Also, Oscar's father is violent and filled with hatred. You have to decide if it's okay for older teens to watch.

I admit that the conclusion of this movie might have left me with a tear in my eye. It could have been an eyelash. I'm not admitting to definite tears, but if there were tears, it was only one or two.

Feast of Love earns The Janie Junebug Highest Seal of Approval.

Happy Viewing!


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

FRANKLIN FRIDAY: DOWNTOWN BLABBY

Note from Janie: I apologize for being an absentee landlord. I didn't feel well yesterday, and today I'm super busy. I watched Downton Abbey yesterday, and I feel comfortable with re-publishing Franklin's post. I'll try to get to MOVIE WEEKEND tomorrow. Thanks!


Hi! Hi hi hi hi hihihihihihihihiihihihihihihiiiiiiii! It's me! It's me! It's me! It's Franklin the Bordernese!

I can't believe how long it's been since I got to write a post. It was back before Kissmas. Mom has been keeping the laptop all to herself, but right now she's watching Downtown Blabby. After she's done watching – and believe me, we aren't allowed to talk while she's watching – then she talks on her phone to somebody and they fuss about a merry lady who's sad (I know: It doesn't even make sense) and they go on and on about stuff the douger counter said because she's so funny and they say they still miss lady syllable.

Whatever.

My friend Willy Dunne Wooters is coming to see me tomorrow night. I guess he's coming to see Harper, too, but I know he likes me best.

 I make sure Harper knows I'm the favorite and then sometimes we get into kind of an argument.

But I know I'm right. Willy Dunne Wooters loves me so much. He gets down on the floor with me and he kisses me and talks to me. I guess he kisses Mom and talks to her, too, but not on the floor. They sit in chairs and make me sit on the floor. If Willy Dunne Wooters needed to take me someplace, I bet he would carry me just like this:

Mom said she's going to make steaks on the grill, and you know what that means, don't you? Steak bones for Harper and me! We have to chew on them outside, but I don't mind.

Uh-oh. I think I hear Mom coming.

Time for me to click Publish and pretend I haven't been doing anything at all.

Okay. I love you bye-bye.


Franklin the Bordernese

JANIE JUNEBUG'S TEASE: MY ONE THOUSANDTH POST CELEBRATION

Considering that I have now written 1,045 posts, I think it's time to make an effort to wrap up my ONE THOUSANDTH POST CELEBRATION. Weighing in at #3 on the top of the pops chart, here's JANIE JUNEBUG'S TEASE GRAND OPENING.  Originally published on March 3, 2013, this post has been viewed 1,886 times. 

However, I feel compelled to point out that in spite of the many page views, I have never earned enough to receive one single check from Cafe Press. Thanks to you lazy louts    cheap bastards kind people, I haven't met the minimum amount in profits that would grant me a check for $25. Pffffffffft.

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I'm so excited! I've designed a line of t-shirts, and they're available in my online shop, Janie Junebug's Tease, at CafePress.com.

I had the idea for these shirts years and years ago but didn't know how to get them made and sell them until the famous author and publisher EC Stilson, a.k.a. my middle child Elisa at The Crazy Life Of A Writing Mom, said, Hey my mother from another planet, you can go to CafePress.com and design your t-shirts and they'll sell them for you.

I looked into it, and of course my brilliant middle child knew of what she spake. That's why she's a famous author and publisher who's on Wikipedia (can you tell I'm proud of my girl?). (Note: Sadly, Wayman Publishing was forced to go out of business recently.) CafePress doesn't charge me anything. I get a royalty for anything in my shop that sells.

For now, I'm sticking to white t-shirts with black lettering. But if you want me to add canvas bags or coffee mugs or bumper stickers, you just let me know and I can do it.

I have men's, women's, women's plus sizes, and junior's t-shirts. They come with short sleeves, long sleeves, or without sleeves. I hope you'll think they're cute.

Here's what I have available:

CATHOLICS DO IT WITH A VIRGIN

LUTHERANS DO IT WITH GRACE

SEVENTH DAY ADVENTISTS DO IT ON SATURDAY

BAPTISTS DO IT UNDERWATER

PENTECOSTALS DO IT WITH TONGUES

UNITARIANS DO IT WITH ANYBODY

ATHEISTS DO IT ALONE

AGNOSTICS DON'T KNOW IF THEY DO IT

JEHOVAH'S WITNESSES DO IT ALL OVER YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD

MORMONS DO IT IN MAGIC UNDERWEAR

If you have an idea for a shirt you'd like me to add, then please let me know. No copyright infringement, of course, and no profanity and nothing pornographic (that leaves out your ideas, Coffey).

The link to my shop is at the top of the sidebar on this page. It's www.cafepress.com/JanieJunebugsTease. I'll love you if you check out my shop and give me some feedback. I'll love you even more if you buy a shirt and/or if you spread the word on your blogs and on Facebook and Twitter. (I owe $2500 in taxes and I still can't find a job.)

But, you know what? If you don't do a darn thing, I'll still love you. I can't help it.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Update: I have added Editor's Tips Tease and Military Tease, and I'm not sure I love you as much as I did when I wrote this post.

WHAT WILLY DUNNE WOOTERS DONE TOLD ME

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Willy Dunne Wooters made me laugh yesterday – nothing new.

My Knight In Shining Armor and I were watching a DVD of a TV show. I don't want to reveal too much in case you want to watch this show and haven't seen it yet. The title of the show rhymes with Glad Ben. The main character, Con Paper, is having an affair with a neighbor's wife. He insists that she meet him in a hotel room, and then he gives her orders in regards to the removal of clothing and other things he wants her to do.

I'd never tell you to get down on your hands and knees, Willy Dunne Wooters said to me.

Why? Because you know I wouldn't do it? I queried.

No. Because we'd never be able to get back up, said Willy Dunne Wooters.

And that's all for sex lives of the old and infirm.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

I TOOK DOWN A POST, AND I APOLOGIZE

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I apologize to anyone who saw FRANKLIN FRIDAY. I've removed the post because I really hadn't watched Downton Abbey. I just did so, and I'm so upset about what happened to Anna that I felt it was inappropriate to joke about the show.

I realize that Anna is a fictional character, but anyone who has been abused in any way or even threatened probably relates to her experience on the show (I won't say what it is in case you haven't watched it yet). This experience is horrific.

I apologize. Perhaps Franklin will write about Downton Abbey again some other time.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

MOVIE MOVIE WEEKEND: THE GUILT TRIP & CELESTE AND JESSE FOREVER

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I have to play catch up because of the movies I watched over the holidays, so today you get a double dose of MOVIE WEEKEND.

First, I present for your consideration The Guilt Trip (2012, PG-13, Available On DVD and Netflix Screaming).

Andy (Seth Rogen) has invested all his money in his own invention. Now he has to travel around the country to various companies to try to sell his product. He stops to see his mother, Joyce (Barbra Streisand), and ends up taking her along for the ride. Of course, she has to give him non-stop instructions about what to do and how to behave. Maybe this movie should be called The Nag Trip.

The Guilt Trip wasn't nearly as irritating as I thought it would be. Although it's totally predictable, that's not always a horrible thing. Sometimes I like watching a movie and knowing where it's going. I like Seth Rogen. I like Barbra Streisand. I don't know if I like them together and in these parts.

You can probably watch this with kids about 10 and older, but I have my doubts about it holding their interest – or yours.

The Guilt Trip earns The Janie Junebug Kinda Sorta Seal of Approval because I don't hate it and I don't love it. If you enjoy it, I promise I won't think you're stupid.

Next up is Celeste and Jesse Forever (2012, Rated R, Available On DVD).

Celeste (Rashida Jones) is married to her longtime best friend, Jesse (Andy Samberg), but they're separated, but Jesse lives in his artist's studio behind Celeste's house, but they spend almost all their free time together, but they don't really seem to be moving toward a divorce, but Celeste doesn't want to stay married to Jesse because when she has children she wants to be married to a man who has a job and is more stable and stuff like that. Of course, life has a way of surprising us. Jesse starts to move on. Celeste needs to accept it. Can they remain friends?

I started watching Celeste and Jesse Forever one evening and decided to go to bed after 20 minutes or so. Bored. I'm glad I didn't mail the movie right back to Netflix because I tried it again two evenings later and was surprised to discover I like this movie, I really like it. When I wasn't tired and distracted, I found the repartee between Celeste and Jesse very witty. It's not laugh out loud funny, but it's cool. The whole movie is a little bit sarcastic. I like sarcasm. I am the Mistress of Sarcasm, but I don't get into it as much as I used to because I've discovered most people can't handle it. Is that kind of like admitting I'm into S&M, but I've put away my whip because Willy Dunne Wooters doesn't care for it?

If you expect this movie to be a romantic comedy, as the title suggests, then you'll be disappointed. Yes, it's amusing, but it's also tender, poignant, and bittersweet. It's not a milk chocolate movie. It's dark chocolate. It's almost the bitter dark chocolate that you can get in Europe and I wish I had some whenever I want.

Celeste and Jesse Forever is an indie film. I tend to like indie films. Celeste and Jesse Forever earns The Janie Junebug Seal of Approval.

Kids? Oh, yeah. Kids. Maybe you can let teens 15 and older watch with you, but check it out first, dudes. It has sexual situations and some drug use and a good bit of alcohol. Maybe you don't want your kids to watch it. You need to decide on an individual basis.

Happy Viewing!


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

BOOK NOOK: KINETIC BY S.K. ANTHONY

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

In the past I've posted AUTHOR AUTHOR interviews the day before I reviewed a book on BOOK NOOK. I've decided to combine the two features into BOOK NOOK. 

Our special guest today is S.K. "Katherine" Anthony, the sparkling young author of Kinetic (The Luminaries). Let's get to know Katherine.

Q. What was the very first idea you had that led to the writing of Kinetic?

A. I remember having the word Luminary coming to my mind and thinking, This sounds cool. Who would a Luminary be? Then I also liked the idea of having a secret organization with super powers and a heroine who was a bad ass but broken inside, and Kinetic was born ;) 

Q. Did the book change as you wrote it, or did you stick to a plan?

A. Oh, yes! I did stick with the main storyline throughout but a lot of the bigger (and smaller) details changed quite a few times. I’m really big on revisions and rewrites, what can I say? I’m a pantser and I like it!

Q. How long have you had these fantastical characters and situations running around in your brain?

A. A bit over five years now. Annie was that one character who kept nagging me to share her story. I started to write it on and off during that time but it wasn’t until I became a stay-at-home mom that I decided it was time to stop letting fear win. I had no more excuses, so I got to work.

Q. What question would you like to ask yourself? (As in, no one asks me this question and I wish someone would.)

A. Oooh, the possibilities, I think I would go with: Would you like me to send you on a paid vacation for two, everything included? And my answer to that person, if they ever do ask, is: YES, yes please.

Q. What's your favorite part of Kinetic? Do you have a favorite sentence?

A. I’m not sure about one favorite part, but here’s one of my favorite lines:"Because you will forgive me; you have to. You and I aren't a matter of ifs and whys. You and I are inevitable."

Q. Tell us a really cool secret about you.

A. Hmm…my real name initials make me: Triple S.

Q. What are you writing now?

A. Apart from this answer :P, I’m rewriting and revising Static, the second Luminary book. Not that it’s a continuation of Kinetic, but it’s the same world. This one is all about the teleporter, Kevin.

Q. What do you now know about publishing a book that you wish you had known before publication?

A. Nothing I can think of. I did a lot of research beforehand so I was prepared, and so far the only thing is: the second book isn’t any easier. Sadly.

MY REVIEW: So Katherine has just revealed that her initials are really S.S.S. That must mean she sizzles because she gives us a debut novel that reveals great talent and potential for even better books to come.

Kinetic revolves around a young woman named Annie Fox, who is part of the Organization. She has been genetically altered so she has special powers that allow her to go after criminals, with the help of a number of colleagues. Annie is divorced from Nick Logan, and sought by her boss, Derek Lane. Thus, we have romance combined with action on top of superhuman abilities.

Isn't this cover lovely and appealing?

One of my favorite parts of blogging is that it takes me out of my reading microcosm. Normally, I would not choose to read Kinetic. It's not my type of book. But because I started following Katherine's blog, 

at http://www.skanthony.com/, I wanted to read the novel written by such a fun and talented person. 

And I enjoyed it. Anthony's characters are fully formed and interesting. Her writing is smooth. Sometimes, maybe she provides a few details too many and could cut some words, but it's not a serious problem. I would enjoy seeing more of The Luminaries in action:

My hands lit up in such a beautiful light blue color. I heard the engine die, and I began to force the train to start slowing down. The rails sparked and screeched, but I dug in and was able to bring it to a complete stop. 

I like the romance, too, which is suggestive but not overly graphic:

We looked into each other's eyes as he walked us towards the bed. He pushed my hair away from my neck and began kissing it softly as he lay on top of me.

Oi! Katherine, that's some good writing!

You can purchase Kinetic on Amazon at http://www.amazon.com/Kinetic-The-Luminaries-S-Anthony/dp/1492128759.

Kinetic earns The Janie Junebug Highest Seal of Approval.

Now, c'mon. What ho! You know what I expect of you. If you can assist in supporting and promoting this young author, then it's time to do so. Buy her book. Review it on Amazon and on your blog. Follow her blog at  http://www.skanthony.com/.

Happy Reading! Thank you, Katherine!


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

GRATITUDE TUESDAY: THE MAN WHO LIVED IN HIS CAR

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Once upon a time, a man got laid off from his job. Eventually, he had to live in his car.

The man was able to park his car in front of a relative's house–for a while. The relative allowed the man to come inside once a week to take a shower. Finally, the man had to move in with his elderly father and step-mother until he could get back on his feet.

And he succeeded. He heard that jobs might be more plentiful in Florida, so he headed to Jacksonville, where he found a good job he's held for eight years.

I'm telling this man's story for GRATITUDE TUESDAY because he's the kind of person who never forgets the way it felt to be homeless. He leaves large tips for servers. He's generous with his girlfriend. He's helped numerous family members.

The man who lived in his car is Willy Dunne Wooters.

Last weekend, we encountered a friend who was experiencing financial difficulties. Willy Dunne Wooters said, Let's go out to dinner! So we took the friend to a buffet where he could eat all he wanted. We put together a little care package of food for the friend. Then Willy Dunne Wooters insisted on giving the friend some money. If WDW doesn't get paid back, I know he won't whine and complain about it.

He just wants to help.

I'm so grateful for Willy Dunne Wooters, and not only because he's my sweetie pie. I'm grateful that the world has so many good, kind people who go out of their way to help others.

Thank you, Willy Dunne Wooters, for the good example you set, yet you don't call attention to yourself when you're generous.

Infinities of Wooters love,

Janie Junebug

CELEBRATING LIP LOCK: MY ONE THOUSANDTH POST CELEBRATION

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

As promised, I'm presenting my top ten most popular posts as part of my one thousandth post celebration. Lip Lock was first published on July 17th, 2012. I'm not sure why it's been so popular.

It's #4 on my top ten hits list, and here it is after 1,159 page views:

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I have had many discussions with people, some of them actual friends (I DO TO HAVE FRIENDS), about the reason people in olden golden times didn't smile when they had their pictures taken.

We've always reached the conclusion that it was the custom then. Besides, if you had your photo taken once in your life, or maybe once every twenty years, then it was a serious occasion. You wouldn't be flashing them pearly whites.

Or maybe having your picture taken was frightening. What could possibly come out of that machine? Would the flash blind you for the rest of your life?

And then there are the people who couldn't bring themselves to smile cuz they were mean and grouchy as a result of constipation (my opinion of Milton).

But recently I was sitting in one of those restaurants where they have pretend old photos on the walls, and a thought struck me. Slapped me right on the jaw. Yes! I had an epiphany!

Maybe most of those people didn't smile for the same reason I don't: I hate the way I look when I smile. I don't have gorgeous pearly whites. I'm not that crazy about the way I look from the neck up even with my mouth closed, but I really hate a picture that shows my teeth. I never had the orthodontic work I needed.

In olden golden times, folks probably tended to have rotten teeth, or no teeth, or crooked teeth, or . . . who knows?

But as the years passed, more and more people -- except in England -- saw dentists and orthodontists and had toothbrushes and toothpaste. Crest was invented. And as the years pass, we start to see people smiling in photos.

Courtney Cox's High School Yearbook Photo

Halle Berry (now that's a smile)

It's always been my contention that Princess Diana
was revered in England because she was
the only person with nice teeth. *See note after post, please.

Perhaps, after dementia sets in, you'll be able to take a photo of me with my mouth open. I imagine it will look something like this:

I think I still have a few good years, though. Perhaps as many as three or four. So until my ability to keep my mouth closed for photos ends, please keep in mind the following: Do not even think of taking a picture of me when I'm unaware that you have a camera, and my mouth is open. If you take that picture, then obviously you hate me, and I'll show you some serious teeth.

By the way, Favorite Young Man and The Hurricane saw an excellent orthodontist. They have beautiful smiles, and they show off their pretty teeth every time a camera is pointed at them.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug, the insecure one


*Note: People of the U.K., please do not write a million comments telling me how nice your teeth are. I know that dental work has improved in your country. At least a dozen of you have had the braces you needed.

She's from London.

She's from Devon.

Camilla Parker-Bowles' High School Yearbook Picture

CELEBRATING SALINGER: MY ONE THOUSANDTH POST CELEBRATION

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

To celebrate the recent publication of my one thousandth post, I've been posting my top ten posts, but also posting some sad posts that received very little attention. I wrote this post soon after J.D. Salinger died during January of 2010. Farewell, J.D. has had a measly 16 page views, and no one has ever commented on it.



And so, Gentle Readers, we bid farewell to J.D. Salinger, the man who finally proved he would stop at absolutely nothing in his quest to escape his fans.

Allegedly, he ate a rather strange diet and drank his own urine. He also died at home of natural causes, which can mean all sorts and varieties of deaths in my active imagination.

Jerry goes to kiss his considerably younger wife. "You ain't kissin' on me no more, Pee Mouth," she hollers. And so it's only natural that she strangles him.

By the way,that was her nickname for him - Pee Mouth - affectionate at one time but not so much after the many years of frigid New Hampshire winters spent in hiding with the One and Only, the Great and Powerful.

The man who was said to be obsessed with a hatred of phoniness and desired getting at the absolute truth . . . hmmmm . . . he doesn't seem to have been so genuine and sincere. Jerome "Jerry" Salinger took a dump on a number of women during his life. If you scroll up a bit on my Message Center you'll find a portal to Amazon.com, one of my favorite cyber places in or out of this world. [no longer in existence] You can order Salinger's books there. And then if you must satisfy your curiosity about the man who created the Glass family, read Joyce Maynard's "At Home In The World" and Margaret Salinger's "Dream Catcher." I recommend the books. They are interesting and well written and probably more genuine than the man.

It's been many years since I last read "The Catcher in the Rye." My favorite younger man told me recently that he thinks it's his favorite book. I'll have to reread it and see what I think. Will the star dust have faded or will I still think it's good? I certainly never considered it my favorite, but it has legions of fans. It made the Top 100 list of greatest novels of the last century, coming in at #64, according to the males-only board of Modern Library.

Salinger also supposedly wrote a number of novels, which he locked up in a safe at home, after he stopped writing for public consumption. If those novels are released, how can they ever live up to his rep?

So, Salinger, maybe you reveled in the attention you attracted by hiding in plain sight. Maybe your writing wasn't so hot anymore and you knew it and you kept your star shining by refusing to release your work. You let people speculate about you when you could have allowed your readers to get at the truth of you. You could have shed light on your writing and your process. You could have taught, but maybe you were so weird you were afraid nobody would have you. Or maybe you thought you were too good for the rest of the world. Easier to dazzle naive young women with your fame and with fake promises. Keep a woman at your beck and call. Engage a town in hiding you. Your own little world revolved around you.

The citizens of Cornish, N.H. admitted they got sick of all those people coming to town looking for Salinger so it was only natural that somebody finally came after him with a shot gun?

Love,

Dumped First Wife

MOVIE WEEKEND: THE CALL

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Today I present for your consideration a true thriller called The Call (2013, Rated R, Available on DVD).

An experienced 911 operator named Jordan (Halle Berry) accidentally assists a serial killer in finding his prey. Distraught, she turns to training new operators, but soon after she begins her new duties, a call comes in that only Jordan is skilled enough to handle. A teenager named Casey (Abigail Breslin) has been abducted by the same killer. She calls from the trunk of a car. Then we're in for quite a ride as Jordan does everything in her power to save Casey.

This movie had me on the edge of my seat. I was scared half to death. Halle Berry is very good in her part, and Abigail Breslin isn't Little Miss Sunshine anymore. The conclusion of the movie is totally implausible, but it didn't bother me. I went where Jordan went and stayed right with her and didn't even think about it not being "real". Strange stuff happens all the time, so why not believe in this ending? We're talkin' female empowerment.

I think you can allow teens of about 14 and older to watch with you, as long as they're not prone to nightmares. If YOU'RE prone to nightmares, then maybe you should watch during the day, or not at all.

I'm torn on my seal of approval for this film. It's not a brilliant, amazing movie, but it certainly captured my interest and kept me going to the last minute.

Aw, what the heck! I hereby present The Call with The Janie Junebug Highest Seal of Approval.

Happy viewing!


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

WHAT? WEDNESDAY: FAVORITE DOWNTON ABBEY CHARACTER

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I watched the season four premiere of Downton Abbey yesterday, so we can talk about it now. We won't say too much, though, just in case you haven't seen it yet and want to do so.

Well, what did you think of the show? Lady Mary is certainly the picture of depression. She's so thin she's a stick (so is Lady Cora). Her eyes are sunken. She looks quite the walking corpse. It's good that Tom has her taking an interest in the estate. When she went on his rounds with him, did you notice she wore her mauve coat and hat instead of the black? That's encouraging.

Anyway, today's question is Who is your favorite Downton Abbey character?

It's not easy for me to answer. I know a lot of people don't care for Lady Mary, but I like her because she's so bitchily honest.

I can't help loving Anna. She's so good and so determined. Talk about loyal. Remember that incident with Mr. Pamuk during the first season? Anna helped out with the corpse. She wanted to protect Lady Mary. And then there's Thomas. He's hideous, but it's fun to have hateful characters. We don't want everyone to be good all the time. How boring.

Speaking of Thomas, do you believe that O'Brien really up and left? Or do you think it's possible that someone murdered O'Brien and then was able to dress in her clothes and make it look as if she left? I can think of someone who could and would do such a thing. I doubt if we've heard the last of O'Brien.

But I know who my favorite character is. She's bitchily honest, yet loving and compassionate. I have to choose the Dowager Countess, Violet.

Her little asides, which aren't always asides but often are spoken quite openly, are hilarious. Yet when she arrived for darling Lady Sibyl's funeral . . . oh, my. How I cried. And she really does try to help people. She's not cruel. She's just old enough to say what she thinks, and she's not afraid of getting involved in other people's affairs.

Now how about you? Who is your favorite Downton Abbey character?

Did anyone else watch the preview special for season four? It was hosted by Susan Sarandon. It's fun to see the characters as the people they really are. Anna, with her hair down, is startlingly beautiful. Edith, with her hair down and her nose still beaky, is startlingly unattractive. Mrs. Hughes doesn't look like Mrs. Hughes. I was shocked at the sight of her. Thomas is hot, and I do mean sizzling.

I'm so glad we have Downton Abbey to enjoy each week–for a while. We'll have to discuss suitors for Lady Mary as they pop up.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

GRATITUDE TUESDAY: THE MIL

Gentle Readers  . . and Maxwell,

As you may recall, I gave my (former) mother-in-law a hint before I sent the box filled with 82 birthday cards for her. I said, I'm sending you a box with 82 birthday cards in it.

She seemed a bit bewildered and then excited by the thought that people all over the U.S. AND in other countries had sent cards for her 80th birthday.

Well, a few days after she received the box she called me. (Get out your hankie.)

She said she had the cards in a basket next to her and she had looked through all of them and was re-reading some each day. She couldn't believe what beautiful cards they were and that so many of you wrote kind notes to her. She asked me to thank you and tell you how much the cards mean to her.

Then she said it, the thing that really got me. She said, This makes me feel as if my life has been worthwhile. 

Take heart, Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell. You've done a good thing.

Please don't fret if I haven't mentioned receiving your card. They continue to trickle in, and I'll be sending her more as they arrive. The mail seems to be a bit slower coming from some countries. It's okay. She'll be happy to get more cards. It gives her something exciting to look forward to now that the holidays are over.

I thank you. I feel such gratitude for all of you, whether you sent a card or not. And so many of you tweeted or mentioned on your blogs that I was gathering cards. Thank you. And thank you again.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

IT'S COLD

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I'm sorry I don't have a post to publish today.

Well, I know that what you're reading right now is kind of a post, but it's not the post I had planned.

You see, the problem is . . . it's cold. It's supposed to get down to 25 tonight.

I realize that if your temp today was 25 below that getting down to 25 above is nothing to you.

But in Florida, cold weather turns us into slugs. Our blood is thin from the usually warm weather. We can't cope with cold. When it gets down to 60, the natives wear winter coats and gloves and hats.

So try to imagine how we suffer when it's below freezing.

I must be going native because it's so cold that I wouldn't leave the house today.

I have an excuse. I don't own a coat. I sold my coats on ebay after I moved here, thinking I would never need them again.

One of the coats was a full-length, faux fur that looked so real that people were always asking me, Is that real?

No! I would cry in disgust. I would never wear real fur, I'd say with contempt.

I miss my faux fur coat right now.

I looked a lot like this when I wore it:

And listen up, ass wipes morons idiots people who tend to neglect the animals who depend on you for safety and security: Just because your dog and cat have fur coats, it doesn't mean that "them there animals is meant to live outside. They like being outside."

You go outside to sleep in the snow and cold and see how long you can stand it before you're whimpering at the door.

I realize you're not going to put sheep in bed with you, but for God's sake, bring the dogs and cats inside and make them comfortable. If they're not accustomed to being inside and don't know how to behave appropriately, it's your own damn fault for not teaching them so go fuck yourself. If I hear you've left your dog or cat or hamster out in the cold, I will teach you a lesson you will never forget.

And it will involve the loss of body parts.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug


P.S. I know Downton Abbey premiered last night. Please don't tell me what happened. I shall be watching it sometime this week with my close personal friend DVR.

CELEBRATING EMBARRASSMENT: MY ONE THOUSANDTH POST CELEBRATION

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Franklin agreed to give up Franklin Friday because, as promised, I'm presenting my top ten most popular posts as part of my one thousandth post celebration. EMBARRASSING WHAT? MONDAY was first published on July 9th, 2012. As many of you know, asking you a question is an on-and-off feature on my blog. 

It's #5 on my top ten hits list, and here it is after 1,010 page views:

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

What is your most embarrassing moment?
If your most embarrassing moment is sooooo embarrassing that you can't bring yourself to tell us about it (like you shat your pants while on a date), then please tell us about something embarrassing that isn't unbearable.

I've had plenty of embarrassing moments in my life. Haven't we all?

But I've managed to choose one to share with you.

I went camping when I was a young teenager -- probably 13. In and of itself, that's plenty shocking. Me? Camping?

Yes, the woman who thinks that staying in anything less than a five star hotel is tantamount to camping actually stayed in a trailer with a friend and her mom for a week. We camped at a lake and had a rather good time swimming.

However, one day my friend's sister -in-law came to visit. She brought her little boy with her. He was standing up in a playpen. I think he was about a year old.

I picked him up for a cuddle. Yes, I used to think all babies were cute.

I was wearing a top my mom had made for me. It was sleeveless and had a tie on top of each shoulder that held up the top and kept it together and all that.

Did you already guess what happened?

If you figured out that the darling baby untied my top on one side, then you got it. There I was -- a young girl with one boob in and one boob out, deedle deedle dumpling I felt like a fool, for I wasn't wearing a bra. I was old enough and developed enough to wear one, but I didn't wear a bra with that particular top because the straps would have shown. During the seventies, we preferred not wearing a bra to letting our bra straps hang out.

So there's my boob, looking kind of like a piece of raw pink salmon next to the rest of tanned me. I quite calmly walked over to the playpen, put the fucking little fucker of a baby back in it and tied my shirt, covering up the boobster.

My "friend" was smirking. Her sister-in-law was laughing.

The friend looked a lot like this.

That's o.k. I may have been very embarrassed at the time, but the friend stayed flat as a board for as long as I knew her, while I continued to grow big, beautiful boobies.

I look a lot like this. And don't you forget it.

Now it's your turn. What is your most embarrassing moment?

Infinities of love,

Janie Juneboob