PENELOPE SPEAKS: AT LAST I GET TO TELL YOU ABOUT KISSMAS

 Hello. It is I, Penelope, most adorable doggy in the world. Here I am on my couch, where I rule the living room.

It has been about a million years since Kissmas and I haven't gotten to tell you about my presents from Santa Paws because Mom Mom has been hogging the computer. Her selfishness knows no bounds.

Of course, you already know about one of my gifts––if you had enough sense to pay attention to me before Kissmas. I have my beautiful hoodie costume.

Santa Paws brought the hoodie because he knows I am THE CHOSEN ONE who will star in a new movie about the adorable reindeer who can fly and his friend, the pink polka-dotted elephant. I will play the elephant in this costume, of course, and in the new movie, mine will be the starring role.

Santa Paws also brought something very special for us on Kissmas Eve. 

My big brother Franklin and I each get our very own Bark Box every single month for forever. 

Mom Mom said, YOU get a Bark Box and YOU get a Bark Box. Everybody gets a Bark Box.

She seemed to amuse herself by making this ridiculous statement so I tolerated her silly behavior.

The first Bark Box had yummy treats and some toys. This is my dragon:

My dragon makes squeaky noises. He is funny. I removed one of his ears. I think he wanted me to chew on him a bit.

Mom Mom asked me, Do you want to be a surgeon, Penelope?

Sometimes Mom Mom says the most pointless things.

I cannot be a surgeon. It is my destiny to be a movie star.

Franklin also had a dragon in his Bark Box. If Franklin wants to play Doggy Toy Sneakery, then he can take his dragon outside for Mom Mom to pick up and bring back inside. He is not allowed to touch my dragon. I want my dragon in my house.

All right. I have said what I came to say. Goodbye. That is all.

DAVID CROSBY 1941 - 2023

 

SERIES WEEKEND: GEORGE & TAMMY

 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I don't care about George Jones.

I don't care about Tammy Wynette. 

I don't even care about country music, other than Loretta Lynn and Dolly Parton.

So why do I love George & Tammy?

Michael Shannon as George Jones and Jessica Chastain as Tammy Wynette.

These two are magnetic.

This six-part series (2022, Rated TV-MA, streams on Showtime) is based on the 2013 memoir The Three of Us: Growing Up With Tammy and George by their daughter, Georgette Jones. 

The series has its flaws. The supporting cast is nothing to write home about. Steve Zahn plays Tammy's evil manager and last husband, George Richey. Nothing special about his performance, and he looks kind of dumb in a wig and fake beard.

 

Things also happen awfully fast. During the first episode, Tammy is an unknown singer married to another man. She meets George Jones. By the end of that episode, George declares his love for Tammy and they run off together.

I read a couple of reviews that said the two leads were great, though, and it's true. I've never been a Michael Shannon fan, but I like him now. I wasn't a Jessica Chastain fan until I saw The Eyes of Tammy Faye, for which she won the Best Actress Oscar. She was riveting in that role.

To say that George Jones and Tammy Wynette had a complicated relationship is an understatement. They were very successful performers, separately and as a duo, but their working association and personal lives were severely damaged by Jones' alcoholism and, later, Wynette's addiction to prescription pain medication.

I also read that much of what is portrayed is based on verifiable facts, while some events may or may not have happened, and are probably as a loving daughter saw them.

Shannon and Chastain do their own singing. I don't know if they do justice to George and Tammy since I'm not familiar with their voices. I only know I loved the series because of the two actors and the story of a loving relationship gone wrong.

Infinities of love,

 Janie Junebug

IF IT'S TUESDAY IT MUST BE POLITICS AS USUAL

Thank you, Katie Porter & Hakeem Jeffries.

DOCUMENTARY WEEKEND: ADRIENNE

 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I watched an excellent documentary recently: Adrienne, the story of the late actress, screenwriter, and director Adrienne Shelly, as told by her widower, Andy Ostroy (2021, Rated TV-MA, streams on HBO Max). 

Shelley wanted to be an actress from the time she was very young, according to her mother and childhood friends, who describe her early success. As a young woman, she became known for her roles in some indie films, but her greatest success came after her death in 2006.

I love Waitress (2007) and have watched it several times.

Shelley had decided that if she wanted to be a success, she would need to create her own material. She wrote Waitress while she was pregnant with her daughter, Sophie, in 2003.

Shelly then directed the movie and played one of the roles. The movie is funny and sad and sweet. Little Sophie has a cameo at the end.

Perhaps the most poignant parts of the documentary are a teenage Sophie's words about the mother she can't remember.

Before her death, Shelly knew the film had been accepted by the Sundance Film Festival.

Ostroy tells the story of Shelly's death himself. After he found Shelly's body, the police assumed Shelly had committed suicide. At Ostroy's insistence, police carried out an investigation leading to the discovery of her killer.

The only part of the documentary that I didn't care for was Ostroy's meeting with the killer.  The film strays into self-indulgence at that point.

Overall, however, Ostroy creates a loving tribute to Adrienne Shelly and preserves her memory for their daughter. Adrienne is as luminous as the woman herself.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

THE MANTEL GANG ISSUES A PRESS RELEASE

 Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

The fine folks who usually live on my mantel apologize for not yet updating you on their holiday location and the events they attended.

They remain sequestered in a special spot. They are laughing so hard at Kevin McCarthy and the GOP's inability to elect a speaker that they find it difficult to do anything else.

This shit never happened with Nancy Pelosi.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Franklin, Penelope, The Mantel Gang, and I 

wish you

a very 

Happy New Year!