Friday, December 23, 2005

Home for Christmas

Ed and Cindee at Christmas 1974Well here I am, beepners, in sunny (yes, it's actually sunny this year!) Florida for Christmas. Wheee!! I'm so glad to get out of those 20 and 30 degree temps in NYC. And, of course, the transit strike ends just as I'm leaving. But I did get to see the sign in that restaurant's window (can't recall the name) that read "Transit strikers no longer welcome"--that was awesome. I heard the woman next to me on the plane tell her relative that the strike had just ended. After I rode that harrowing bus all the way out to JFK. I think the bus ride was scarier than the plane flight (I'm not big on buses); and I was considerably more anxious on the plane than I usually am. Cux I'm almost always a really good flier. Since I mentioned that woman, I have to point out that it was clear to me that she was a Wal-Mart shopper. I'm reading this book on class in America, and I came to a page with the graphic below:

fattitude and class
And I actually felt the need to cover the illustration with my hand (subtly) while I read the pages, so that the woman didn't look over and feel embarrassed. (I saw her glance at the title of the book when I took it out. Reciprocally, I glanced at what she was reading: five [!] tabloids, dealing mostly with Jessica Simpson's marriage. No, I'm not kidding.) Yes, Virginia, she was obese. How kind am I to not remind her? HOW KIND!!!!!!

And speaking of class, and of Florida, look what the book I'm reading has to say on the subject, when discussing how where you come from determines your class:

Both Florida (except perhaps for Palm Beach) and Southern California (except perhaps for Pasadena) have been considered socially disastrous for decades. As if the facts were well known, the vilest nightclubs abroad, especially in gotten-up new places like West Germany, are likely to be named Florida. One reason no civilized person could think of living near Tampa is that during the 1970s this sign was visible there, advertising nearby Apollo Beach: "Guy Lombardo Wants You as a Neighbor."

Interesting. And I suppose, knowing nothing really about the upper and upper-upper classes, I'll have to take the author's word for it. Just like Pocahontas did in Colors of the Wind: "You think I'm an ignorant savage, and you've been so many places... I guess you're right."

But back to Christmas in Florida. First of all, the sun! The sun sun sun!!! Today my mom and I exited a mall and the sky was so bright (and so much of it visible due to Florida's almost uniform flatness) that alls I wanted to do at that moment was put a lawn chair in the middle of the mall parking lot and sit. How Floridian of me! Second of all, the temperature temperature tamporature!! It's in the 60s, and I think it's supposed to be in the 70s over the weekend. Third of all, the suburbs suburbs suburbs!!!! Mom and I went to Publix today to get some things (I confess: I could really spend the entire holiday going from Publix to Publix--I love driving and grocery stores and sun that much), and when we exited the Salvation Army lady, who was NOT ringing a bell, offered us a quiet, "Merry Christmas." WHAT A CHANGE from the loud LOUD LOUD (I'm loving this repetition thing today) "PENNY FOR THE HOMELESS! ONE PENNY! SIR! ONE PENNY IS ALL THEY NEED! CAN'T YOU SPARE A PENNY!!!" I thought, "Wow. I could get used to this."

One thing I could not get used to, however, is this dial-up internet. Who knew it was so slow? Who, I ask you, WHO???!?! Additionally, I've gotten sick, for the most part, of Christmas music. I feel like I've eaten too much cake or something. But you can't throw up music. Can you? If you could, I'd have a whole new CD!

Briefly, I came to the realization that in Florida, as in much of the country, Christmas light displays are all about quantity. Not art, but quantity. Kind of like the light displays in Indian restaurants on 6th st.

So Christmas is coming up soon--tomorrow I'm supposed to be hanging out with an old friend, so that should be cool. Then the big day. I have a few good gifts under the tree, but I think the best gift was something that I couldn't get from a store, something totally unexpected: My parents got a scanner, so I've been scanning in old pix of myself and the like for the past recentism. Like the one at the beginning of the entry, which is me and my sister at Christmas in 1974. What could I be thinking?! And these:

My certificate for excellent citizenship


My 8th grade yearbook picture. Was I hotter-than-hot or WINGAPO?!?!?!

And I STILL can't keep my hair cut at regular intervals!

But, of course, I would be remiss if I didn't post these bits:

My certificate for completing the Four Star Shooting Camp
A pic from my second birthday
(I remember being blonder. This pic must be underexposed.)
So anyway, that's the beep for now. I have to say again that I'm so glad the transit steerike is over. So glad. Now it just needs to warm up about 30 degrees and the day needs to get 3 hours longer. Then we're in business, Manhattan! So for now, this is Ed Shepp signing off. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone!

Ed Shepp

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Happy Beeping Holidays!

Sheesh! You try to write down notes for things to enbloggerize so you can write timely entries... ...and then you STILL take a month to put up a blog entry!!! Gaklers! Oh my cods...

Well we're in the middle of my 4 weeks of holiday (Christmas) shows--yay!!! Those were fun to make. Go here to see them. Oh, and The Ed Shepp Radio Experiment has become podcastable, so go here to get the podcast. And my holiday cards (CDs) are out too--yay! If you didn't get one, and you really, really want one, and you don't mind receiving it after Christmas, because you celebrate Chanukah or Kwanzaa or something (cux if I mail it now, it'll NEVER get anywhere before Christmas), email me, I guess. It's really just stuff from my shows and other music. Beep.

And I finally found an 18'' pink Christmas tree for my desk, after those kids at 3 different Urban Outfitters told me that what I was asking for didn't exist (in spite of the fact that it was listed on the sign). So yay. I only wish it could be pink fur and decorated with nude Barbies. Either that, or a real pine tree, burned up one half. Would that be a "slap in the face to bourgeois values"?

I went to a dinner party over the weekend. I was going to bring champagne (pink Andre, of course), but the liquor store I went to didn't have any that was cold, so I ended up bringing a pointsettia. I was the second person to bring a 'plant.' When I was getting food in the kitchen, I noticed a huge bouquet of white flowers all wrapped in cellophane, gift-ready. A closer look revealed they were fake. But it took a moment after I realized they were fake to put it together in my mind that someone had actually brought a bouquet of fake flowers as a gift!!!!! Frankly, I can't believe it hadn't occurred to me before. But I had to start trouble: I mentioned the beautiful flowers, and it was clear to me that the person who had given them was standing right next to me. "Are they freesia?" I asked. "Yes, they are." "Oh. ...Are they fragrant?" "Hmmmm, I don't know." (Freesia, when it grows from the earth, is fragrant.) It was funny. Beep.

A last anecdote that I forgot to mention: a friend of someone in another city apparently hired a hewer recently. (No, I am not talking about myself. With the money something like that would take, I could have, like, 5 bottles of cologne, right? An hour of whatever versus months of scents? The choice is clear.) Apparently when the hewer arrived at my friend's house he said, "You know, I don't really feel like having sex today," to which the, er, procurer replied, "Well, I don't feel like paying $200 today." Ha!! I thought it was funny. OK, that whole story was fake.*

And that's the beep for now, gnooplets! Happy holidays all!

Ed Shepp

*Actually, it wasn't fake.