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Thanks to everyone who attended recent performances of "My Ship" and "Cole Porter" with Michael Gott (right, with Laura).  You can read the BroadwayWorld.com reviews here and here. 

And here's a review of the recent McDavid Studio shows!


We will schedule more public shows as soon as possible.  If you would like to book either show for theaters, cabarets or private events, click here.


Click for links to Hurricane aid groups who need help now!

LAURA'S DIARY


This blog is where I expand on the ideas in "My Ship Has Sailed."  I also comment on news about ageism, fashion, plastic surgery, cosmetics, diets, health and looks that we find every day while writing The Comedy Wire radio service; discuss what it's like to do a one-woman show; and post some of the best comments I receive from people who want to share their own experiences with the "last big culturally-acceptable bias."  Write me at  laura@lauraainsworth.com.

To see photos from the show and the "Ship" TV special and shots with Rob Becker, Eve Ensler, Irma P. Hall, Bill Paxton, Michael Urie and other favorite people, click here.


To be informed when new public show dates are scheduled, keep checking back here.   Or subscribe to our free, no-spam newsletter for first notice of new bookings, plus lots of funny stuff and the occasional freebie.  To sign up, just write to webmaster@lauraainsworth.com.  You may also write to that address for info on booking the show for clubs, cabarets, theaters, corporate events, private party concert performances, or on having Laura give a humorous after-dinner presentation to your group about the show and ageism in general.

 


                              NEW STUFF!

LAURA'S BLOG IS NOW HOSTED AT http://lauraainsworth.blogspot.com,  WHERE YOU CAN LEAVE COMMENTS ON THE POSTS!

Laura's husband Pat has a hilarious new website based on his book, Hollywood Hi-Fi, about  wannabe celebrity singers.   Hear Bette Davis, Robert Mitchum and more trying to be music stars!

 A video profile of Laura from the Dallas Morning News' NeighborsGo section!

ALL OF LAURA'S "AGE OF LOVE" RECAPS ARE ON ONE PAGE HERE!

A VIDEO OF LAURA'S PERRICONE DIET ARIA IS NOW ONLINE!  SEE IT HERE! 

INTERVIEWS WITH LAURA BY THE PRODUCER OF "FAT GIRLS," POSTED ON YAHOO HEALTH:  ONE ON HER SHOW'S TAKE ON AGEISM AND ONE ON OVERCOMING MENIERE'S DISEASE.

ALSO, A CLASSIC, IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT YET! :  Dove's Campaign for Real Beauty Video




And now...The Blog!
(Warning: Older links may no longer be active!)


May 26, 2009

Yes, I know it's been over a year since I posted anything!  I apologize for letting this drop, but I've been very busy with other things, including performing, recording, writing, moving, trying to sell a house in a terrible real estate market, recuperating from hand surgery and pneumonia, and starting a new "day job" with a new national show for ABC Radio Network.  In addition, my computer conked out and had to be replaced, while my husband Pat, who is the webmaster and posts all this stuff, was too busy to help (he also was working on the ABC show, in addition to writing a third daily radio prep service for awhile for USA News Network).  Something had to give, and blogging was what gave.  But things are actually settling down a little, at least enough to sneak in the occasional post.  I'll try to do more, when I have time. 

Today, two things:  Interesting quote about Botox and plastic surgery from Mary Louise Parker in the new More magazine:

"Somebody told me that they'd read that I had all this work done and showed me a picture, and it was totally airbrushed...It made me so mad.  I don't like what that says to other women.  I'm 44, and I look OK for 44.  I'm not trying to look 34."

Of course, in Hollywood, looking 34 could be the kiss of death.  Heck, looking 24 is the kiss of death for a model.  But she makes a good point: don't believe any photos you see in fashion or celebrity magazines.  These days, a good PhotoShop artist can not only make anyone look like a movie star, they can make it appear that you're sitting in Abe Lincoln's lap, and for good measure, erase Lincoln's unsightly mole.


And here's a little something I wrote for our radio service, the Comedy Wire.  I really love Susan Boyle and her whole story, but it was annoying to me that these TV singing contests keep getting judges who seem to know nothing about singing (David Hasselhoff is going to judge someone's singing? Really?) and never say anything remotely useful.  So after Susan made her second appearance on "Britain's Got Talent," singing "Memory" from "Cats,"  I decided that if nobody else was going to say anything constructive, I would.  So here it is: 


When a voice breaks the way Susan's did at the very beginning, it's often because the pitch is in the singer's passaggio, or transition area. (A passaggio is sort of like a car shifting gears.) Different singers have different passaggios; for instance, one of mine is around C#-D above concert A.

Singing through it requires breath and volume control. Susan's song was probably pitched so it would be in her "glory spot" for the end; unfortunately, that gave her a more difficult note to start on. My guess is that she had a little stage fright - how could she not? - which caused her first breath to be too shallow. It's challenging to control volume on a first note, too, because you haven't heard yourself yet. She probably tried to sing that note at a higher volume than her breath could support. Result: CRACK!

Susan seemed to sense the problem; did you notice that she touched her diaphragm? Very soon, everything evened out and she sounded wonderful.

***************************

Okay, that's it, and I promise it won't be another year before I post again.




April 3, 2008

Lots of news piling up to comment on, but I'm in the middle of moving, so I'll get to it ASAP.  In the meantime, two quick messages:

The May 30 date for "Cole Porter: Elegance & Decadence" is now firm.  The magnificent Michel Gott and I will be performing two shows, at 7 and 9:30, on Friday, May 30, at Bass Hall's McDavid Studio.  It's a beautiful 200-seat listening room with great sound.  We plan to do a lot of promotion for the date, and I want our friends to be there, so please get your tickets early!  They are available only through BassHall.com.  Click here for tickets and full info! 

Secondly, thanks so much to everyone who came out to Grand Prairie for the four shows last weekend!  That was my first professional performance in the town where I grew up, so you can imagine how much it meant to me.  A million thanks to the Grand Prairie Arts Council and the Women's Club for bringing in the show, for all their hospitality and for providing us with such a terrific venue. 



March 26, 2008

Incredibily busy this week with the Moonlady Fest showcase (very nice gig, and thanks to everyone for their warm welcome and laughter), moving and preparing for the shows (you will be there, right?), but I wanted to take just a minute to say thanks for all the wonderful media coverage of the show.  I have done interviews with both the Grand Prairie newspaper and cable TV channel, and articles have appeared in the Dallas Observer and last Sunday's Dallas Morning News Metro section.  It's all much appreciated. 

Just one minor note: not to quibble, but the DMN article makes it sound at the end as if we've given up getting the show into Vegas and are sort of moving to retire or something.  Perish the thought!  We are working feverishly to book the show nationwide, we are in talks about getting it into a great theater in Vegas (we could have done it in January, but the notice was too short to clear the schedule), and we are moving to streamline our lives and make it easier to sell the bigger house we're in now.  So if you know someone who'd love a great deal on a four-bedroom, Preservation Dallas award-winning 1913 house, drop me a line!  Or better yet, talk to me after one of the shows!   Gotta run (and no, it's not to get Botox). 


March 11, 2008

Very busy getting ready for multiple shows (see links at the top of the page), but here’s a shortie for you:

Two Beverly Hills plastic surgeons recently surveyed colleagues to find the most requested celebrity body parts, and the Star tabloid figured that if you combined them all, it should create the perfect face. To find out, they pieced together a photo of a woman with Katie Holmes' eyes, Katherine Heigl's nose, Keira Knightley's cheeks, Jessica Simpson's long blonde hair and Angelina Jolie's lips; and a photo of a young man with Daniel Craig's blue eyes, Leonardo DiCaprio's nose and Matt Damon's lips. To be perfectly frank (or perfectly Frankenstein), the woman just looks to me like a lot of women who’ve had too much plastic surgery, and the result of stitching all those perfect young male parts together is a face that looks surprisingly like a young Jay Leno with a smaller chin. I guess this means Jay Leno is just one chin surgery away from perfection.

Ironically, if Jay Leno went to a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon, he’d probably come out looking exactly like a young Jay Leno with a smaller chin.

I suppose if a woman didn't want to have all that done to her face, she could just get Dolly Parton's breasts.  Then she'd never have to worry about any man ever looking her in the face again.



Feb. 24, 2008

Ooohh, tonight is Oscar night! Of course, for me, the nominated films – for the most part, a depressing and bloody lot this year – must take a back seat to the annual Red Carpet parade of The World’s Most Beautiful People. The Perfect People. The Sexiest People. The Perpetually Youthful People. The People Who Are Supposesd To Make Us Run Out And Get Plastic Surgery To Look Like Them.

But in order to maintain that essential illusion, Hollywood actresses will each spend untold thousands on designer gowns, hair color and extensions, weeks of intensive personal workouts, radical “cleansing” diets, diamond-particle “signature” facials, fat injections, wrinkle fillers such as Radiesse, subtle “one-stitch” facelifts for 30-something actresses, “spot” lipo to smooth every molecule of bulge, foot surgery to help them stand in stilettos, dental bleaching, and even calming doses of anti-anxiety drugs. If the Hollywood economy lost billions of dollars during the writers stike, the money spent on looking beautiful for Oscar night should make up for it.

Jeez, if I had this much pressure on me to look fabulous, I’d probably be popping Xanax, too.

I haven’t even mentioned Botox yet. Goodness, movie stars photographed outdoors in the afternoon sun can’t look squinty, so virtually every one of them will be Botoxed on the forehead and between the eyes. Of course, some Hollywood stars will come close to mainlining Botox. A few will look very pointedly paralyzed. Botox is also injected into the armpits to keep stars from perspiring on the Red Carpet or while waiting nervously for that possible Academy Award. Finally (this is something I just learned about, in a more detailed article in the London Daily Mail), Botox is now used to RAISE THE CLEAVAGE and make breasts look more youthful. (With all the breast implants in Hollywood, I would hope the dermatologist would take extreme care using needles around breasts!) There’s even a special cleavage “facial” that’s essential for anyone wearing a low-cut dress.

Oh, and here’s a newly popular but squirrely idea: false eyelashes made of mink or squirrel fur! They cost thousands of dollars a pair, but it you take good care of them, they’ll last five to seven wearings. Madonna got some that were made of mink and diamonds.

If all this isn’t enough to make the actresses look drop-dead gorgeous, they’ll also be dripping with diamonds and other precious stones. Many will have every square inch of skin airbrushed the perfect glowy color. They’ll strut in Jimmy Choo shoes -- and if their feet don’t look perfect in them, there are anti-inflammatary injections. Also, did you know that celebrity makeup artists can charge several thousand dollars for creating just one Oscar-caliber makeup? Appointments are booked many months in advance.

Sometimes an actress can do all this and still be savaged by the snarky TV and tabloid critics. So I understand why stars want to look as lovely as possible. At the same time, we out here have to keep all their efforts in perspective. There is so much we can do to take care of ourselves and look like real, relaxed, healthy, beautiful women without obsessing about our looks the way narcissistic movie stars do. Really, who do you think would make the more interesting dinner companion – you, or a perfectly-manicured J-Lo in hair extensions and mink eyelashes?

Of course, the mink might be a better conversationalist than J-Lo.



Feb. 6, 2008

DEMOGRAPHICS AND THE PRESIDENCY

Disclaimer: The following commentary about age as it applies to the Presidential campaign has absolutely nothing to do with my choice for President of the United States, which reflects, as it should, my very close examination of the issues facing this nation and how they might be addressed in the real world by a real person. What does this individual think about the role of government? Is he or she able to communicate his views well? What philosophy might affect his or her choices for Supreme Court justices? What might we ACTUALLY SEE in the world as a consequence, intended or not, of this person's election? In my opinion, race, gender and, yes, even age are not relevant to this analysis and should be set aside so voters can consider the things that really matter. So there.

***************************

I'm writing this on "Super Tuesday," though I live in Texas and thankfully won't have to go out into the hailstorm (no exaggeration!) to vote now. But if I were voting today, the choice, as it's been presented in the media, seems clear: Do I want the young, dynamic black guy? The older white woman? Or maybe the super-old white guy? Hey, the Baptist or the Mormon? The only major demographic contest we don't have - at least, as far as we know - is gay vss. straight.

In fact, I'm reminded of an episode of "Will & Grace" in which Will (gay) and Grace (Jewish) are trying to decide whom to back for City Council: the gay man or the Jewish woman. Will, predictably, backs the gay man, while Grace, just as predictably, backs the Jewish woman. Later they realize they can't support either candidate -- not because of their demographics, but because of their incredibly horrid views.

But let's get back to our real election, where the stakes are higher because they are not fictional. Here, the young black guy has a Kennedyesque coolness and a hopeful message that inspires blacks as well as whites, some of whom perhaps long to recapture that wonderful media creation, Camelot. The older white woman is doing well among Latinos, Asians and, not surprisingly, older white women, some of whom have remarked, understandably, that they just want to see a woman president before they die. (Additional disclaimer: Please do not assume that I think everyone supporting these candidates is doing so strictly because of demographic kinship, but many obviously are.) The really old white guy is doing very well in the polls, but in spite of that was recently deemed too old to be President by columnist Anna Quindlen. ("Race, gender - they're both up for grabs in this election. It's age that has become the new taboo in a vitality culture.")

Quindlen refers to McCain's age as "the elephant on the campaign trail," saying, "There's been plenty of talk during primary season about gender and race; it's age that has become taboo." Personally, I think all three should be immaterial and are a convenient way of tap-dancing around real issues. There has already been too much playing of the race and gender cards, not so much from the voters themselves as from those candidates -- and their husbands -- who think it can help them. If candidates truly believe that race and gender shouldn't play a part in this election, then they should refrain from bringing them up.

But now Quindlen plays the age card. She dismisses our society's so-called "age is just a number" mentality - oh, how I wish we had that mentality, instead of obsessing about age the way we do - and goes on to say this: "The gentle but inevitable passing of the guard that once gave young people an opportunity to rise has stuttered and sometimes stopped." WHAT?? I'd like to know what planet Ms. Quindlen is living on. As a woman in my chosen field, I'd see my opportunities increase exponentially if I were in my twenties today.

Quindlen also points out that Old Man McCain suffers infirmities from his years of incarceration and torture: the inability to climb stairs quickly or to raise his arms to comb his hair due to multiple fractures he received at the hands of the Viet Cong. My first observation: What hair? My second: I wonder whether she would've supported the young, dynamic-looking, poufy-haired John F. Kennedy if she'd known he suffered from Addison's Disease and almost incapacitating back pain? When the cameras weren't on, he must've climbed stairs as slowly as McCain. What about Franklin D. Roosevelt, so ravaged by polio that he had to use a wheelchair? How much correlation does age have with vitality and ability, really? If the writers of the Constitution had seen such a connection, they never would have specified that Supreme Court justices could serve for life.

In fact, I recently saw McCain's 95-year-old mother, Roberta, on the news and she is incredibly youthful and gorgeous! Oh, my god, have you seen this lady? She must use Perricone. And she's had the vitality to accompany her son throughout the campaign, city after city. McCain definitely got some good anti-aging genes.

When I think of the years of excruciating torture and lasting pain McCain has endured, I have no reason to conclude that this has left him a hobbling, feeble man. Instead, I'm reminded of the saying, "What does not kill us makes us stronger."

George Washington first took the oath of office when the average life expectancy was under 40, so even at age 57 he was way past his physical prime -- including his teeth, which had long since been replaced by a full set of painful dentures. He served two terms and left at age 65, which in those days was considered positively wizened. Ben Franklin, though never elected President, was active in government affairs into his 80s at a time when few even survived to that advanced age. We've had Presidents who were young, old, athletic, frail and even morbidly obese. Granted, Grover Cleveland could never be elected in the Media Age - not with the camera adding ten pounds to a body that already fluctuated between 300 and 332 pounds! It was only after serving as President that he relieved his severe sleep apnea by losing 80 pounds, and then he continued to serve, as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court.

No one who publicly asserted that a black person or a woman shouldn't be President would be respected today, no matter what rationalizations he or she might employ. But not so long ago, if we'd had a woman at the top of the ticket, there would've been dire warnings day after day about the emotional fragility and hormone swings that render all women -- with the possible exception of Margareet Thatcher -- unsuitable for high office. Thank goodness we're past that. Yet some are starting to talk about age in a similar way. It's as I always say...AGE IS THE LAST BIG CULTURALLY-ACCEPTABLE BIAS.

Of course, with a 71-year-old candidate, the choice of his running mate rises in importance, and Quindlen addresses this, posing the question, "If you enter the process stressing a hedge against mortality or incapacity, shouldn't that suggest something about suitability for the job in the first place?"

Answer: NO. Just the fact of being President is as much a risk of mortality as being older. It's a hazardous job in ways that have nothing whatsoever to do with age. I'm sure Presidents Kennedy, Lincoln, Garfield and McKinley, all assassinated while in office, would agree if they could speak to us. The choice of a running mate is always important. If you scan the obits, as I often do, you see that death or incapacity can strike at any age.

It's great that we have such demographic diversity among our candidates this time. Still, we won't be over our prejudices until these differences are simply incidental and play no part in our choice for President. I think we're still a long way off.

(I'll now pause to review the election returns from Super Tuesday, and wrap this up in the morning.)

******************

Well, it's just as I thought. According to a detailed demographic breakdown from Katie Couric and the gang at CBS News that made me want to tear out my hair, Hillary did well with white women, Latinos and Asians, and not so well with blacks. Obama received most of the black vote and did quite well with younger whites. The pattern was so striking that pundits expressed concern about the preeminence of "identity politics" among Democrats.

Among Republicans, Romney didn't fare too well; he won his home state of Michigan and also states with high populations of Mormons, who wouldn't vote for Huckabee, a Baptist, if Huck paid them to. Huck can't afford to do that, anyway - he runs a very low-budget campaign! Thus, another stereotype is shattered: rich doesn't necessarily trump poor in the Republican Party.

But it's the short, balding, white-haired, achy-jointed candidate who really won the night. That's right, the Grand OLD Party came out for creaky old John McCain. Thankfully, his age wasn't an issue to the voters, and I didn't even hear it mentioned by the pundits.

But if he gets the nomination, mark my word: we'll be hearing about it a LOT.



Jan 23, 2008

A LATE WORD ON DONDA WEST – CELEBRITY DOCS CAN BE BAD NEWS

Well, did you miss me?

Perhaps you noticed – God, I hope somebody did – that my last blog entry was a few long months ago. As luck would have it, just at the time I was assessing the myriad news reports of the plastic-surgery death of Kanye West’s mother, I broke my hand.  Kid you not. I slipped on a bit of nonstick cooking spray that had drifted onto the kitchen floor and, after doing a fabulous impression of Kristi Yamaguchi careening about on the ice, landed smack on my left hand with such force and at such an angle that my ring finger was turned completely around to the side. Oddly, there was no pain at all involved in this.

X-rays showed that the finger itself wasn’t broken, but there was a complicated “spiral” fracture of the metacarpal below that finger. So I had to have hand surgery, involving a long metal plate and numerous little screws, a few of which I can actually feel in the palm of my hand. Pity the person who has to stand behind me in line for the metal detector at the airport. Also, there’s now a long, red scar on the back of my hand that makes me glad I wear gloves while performing. It seems to be healing well, though; nice to know I’m a good “healer” in case I choose to go in for a facelift someday!

I found that recovery from hand surgery can really put a crimp – and even, at times, a cramp – in keyboard-related activities. Surprisingly, the pain didn’t start until after my finger had been put back in place, but then it was brutal. While I was slowly recovering the motion in my hand, so much age- and beauty-related news accumulated that I didn’t know where I’d begin. So I procrastinated, even after I was able to type, and more news piled up. You know how it is.

But let’s pick up where I left off: the sadness and horror of Donda West’s death. What a tragedy. “My mother is my everything,” Kanye West said at the time. The story of her death so dominated the celebrity tattle-shows that by now it must be “old news” to the relentlessly forward-moving press; still, a woman died under shocking circumstances, and I believe it’s not too late to weigh in:

Apparently, fame lends such an aura of infallibility to TV doctors such as Dr. Jan Adams that their patients don’t even wonder why they’re being operated on in an outpatient facility in a SHOPPING MALL.  Donda West was going in for a breast reduction and a tummy tuck – increasingly common procedures but still major, major surgery – and that’s where the work was performed. AT THE MALL!  Then, instead of being moved to some type of recovery facility where she could be watched, she was taken back to her room and LEFT THERE ALONE. (Pardon all the total caps; I have no other way to express in print my sheer contempt.) This was so wrong that only someone who’s been falsely told her surgery will be a breeze would ever agree to it. She certainly could have afforded the best of post-surgical care if she’d been under the impression that she needed it.

I had better surgical facilities and follow-up for the little bone in my hand than Ms. West had for her two major surgeries. And I had great confidence in my doctor, a specialist who does nothing but repair hands.

TV doctors are on TV because they’re good on TV. Never, ever give your trust to any doctor – or political candidate, but I digress -- just because he or she is telegenic. Even a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon “to the stars” isn’t necessarily any good – look at some of the stars! They look godawful! We tend to think celebrities are special people, with special abilities, but they’re not. According to “The Insider,” Dr. Adams has had 15 malpractice suits filed against him since 1998. My hunch is that the best plastic surgeon on the planet has a name known only to the lucky few who’ve been referred by word of mouth.

By the way, the “mommy makeover” -- breast surgery combined with a tummy tuck -- is rapidly gaining popularity.  Women shocked at what pregnancy has done to their bodies, leaving them with sagging breasts, flabby stomachs, stretch marks and loose skin, are rushing to plastic surgeons. I haven’t had children, so I can’t write from firsthand experience, but it’s easy to understand their haste to undo the damage. Still, with all the physical, hormonal and emotional changes that take place in the months after childbirth, many doctors advise waiting on breast operations until at least three months after breastfeeding has finished, and postponing a tummy tuck until at least six months after giving birth.

Now, I’m not an A-list actress trying to schedule the birth of my child with shooting a movie in a bikini three weeks later, but this advice makes sense to me.

Of course, celebrity or not, in this age of political correctness, any time a woman considers having plastic surgery, the debate can’t ever just be about what the woman wants. Thanks to organizations such as the Boston group "Our Bodies Ourselves," it has to be about why she wants it.  Is she doing it for the right reason? Columnist and mother-of-two Theresa Walsh Giarrusso, writes, “Yes, your body changes after having children. And, no, it’s not going to be the same again. But that’s OK. You’re a different person mentally and emotionally after bringing children into the world. Why shouldn’t you be different physically? Do we really need to look good enough to compete with 20-year-olds?”

Jeez, it’s not enough that we’re under societal pressure to maintain our sexual allure. We’re also under societal pressure to let go of our allure, from the very people who claim to be fighting societal pressure.

Personally, I really wouldn’t want to let it go. If I didn’t recognize my body anymore after pregnancy, I’d probably wait the recommended length of time, lose the baby weight, get super-healthy, and have the surgery. But I sure wouldn’t have it at the Mall.

Coming next: ABC News asks, “How far will Chinese women go in the pursuit of beauty?”



Oct. 21, 2007

Sure, as always, there’s plenty in the news relating to age and beauty. I’ll get to all that. But first, I have to satisfy an urge I’ve had for awhile: to create my very first official List Of Pet Peeves. If you haven’t ever made one, try it sometime, just for fun, because it can tell you a lot about yourself. For example, I don’t consider myself that easily peeved-off, but my list of peeves turned out to be pretty darn long!

Some of these relate directly to The Age Thing (how could they not?), some only peripherally, and some not at all. Also, I chose not to include things we all hate, such as loud cellphone talkers, bad drivers and anything having to do with air travel. These are personal; some you will no doubt share, while others may just reflect my own quirks. They’re in no particular order. So, here we go, with the things that make me say, “Give me a break!”


LAURA’S LIST OF PET PEEVES

the term “baby boomer,” also any variation such as “boomer,” “aging boomer,” etc.

being pointed at or gestured at from a music video

competitive eating contests

MORE magazine (if you read my blog, you know why)

fake call-in radio talk shows that are really infomercials

phrases such as “most unique,” “more perfect,” “the most complete”

the Nobel Peace Prize

“over-the-hill” birthday parties with black balloons

flawlessly PhotoShopped models

Magazine lists such as “The 50 Most Beautiful People,” “The Top 100 Movies Of All Time,” etc. (there are many of these, and they all need to go away, but they won’t. Maybe I should list the Top 50 Reasons for Them To Go Away.)

white walls and beige carpet

“tear-downs” and starter castles in once-charming old neighborhoods

being lectured to on global warming and foreign policy by Hollywood stars, many of whom didn’t even graduate from high school

concert reviews that insist on critiquing the age and degree of hipness of the audience

awards shows – come on, how often does the most deserving person win?

thug culture

Christmas overkill: Christmas season starting before Thanksgiving is over (let alone Halloween!); also, 90 percent of all the Christmas songs that have ever been recorded

on the other hand, having to call the Christmas tree a “holiday tree,” when everybody knows it’s a Christmas tree

fashion magazines’ monthly lists of “must-haves”

the term “reinventing oneself”

the age limit on “American Idol,” also the constant references to contestants’ ages

extremely passionate, argumentative people who are absolutely convinced of something that’s factually incorrect

today’s Saturday morning cartoons – the worst politically-correct pablum! (where are Rocky and Bullwinkle when you need them?)

saying of any actress with millions of dollars to spend on herself that she is “perhaps the most beautiful woman in the world”

gross-out comedies – I won’t go see “The Heartbreak Kid” and will never, EVER see “Kingpin” again

using “they,” “them” and “their” as singular, as in, “Give your child the things they deserve.”

Hollywood-style celebrity “justice”

overuse of the phrases “if you will” and “at the end of the day”

seafood from China

impenetrable business jargon

image politics

politicians who run on an issue that disappears off the radar screen once they’re elected

dividing us by decade, as in “your 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s and beyond”

ads for mascara in which the model is obviously wearing fake eyelashes

child beauty pageants

adult beauty pageants

reality shows, except for “American Idol” and “Dancing With The Stars”

food companies that sell their products as healthy when one look at the label tells you they are SO NOT

swarms of paparazzi – arrest those locusts for stalking and harassment

my frustrating and unending quest for sexy shoes that don’t hurt

rappers yakking over great old hit songs written by real songwriters

those not-so-fabulous fakes: dark spray-on tans, chopped-off noses, wind-tunnel faces, expressionless eyebrows, clown lips, chalk-white teeth, bowling-ball breasts

Dennis Hopper talking to children of the ‘60s about financial services

Hardee’s (The “Monster Thickburger”? Please, Hardee’s, stop the obesity!)

those long loops on dresses for keeping them on hangers – I can never seem to keep them tucked inside!

Conan O’Brien’s opening, with the loooooong, earsplitting trumpet blast at 12:30 AM (11:30 AM Central). Conan has a fantastic band, but how many thousands of times have they done that by now?

laugh tracks

televangelists, “psychics” and “faith healers”

hearing any actor called “the greatest actor of his generation,” especially if it’s Sean Penn, because he probably believes it

the term “generation” (because unless you’re talking about someone’s family tree, people are born on a continuum and generational divisions are arbitrary, so there!)

commercials that say, “Get the (whatever) you DESERVE!” (because, hey, for all they know, I’m an axe murderer and don’t deserve squat)

status designer handbags that cost as much as a new luxury car


Whew, that turned out to be a long list! It’s good that I don’t get very worked up about most of these things, or my life would be miserable. Fortunately, I’m an easygoing sort; there are only a few things that seriously chafe me. And I need this long list of annoyances to write comedy about.

Besides, the list of things I love would be much, much longer.

Next: "Absolutely Safe," a new documentary on breast implants.



Oct. 14, 2007

In honor of October, National Breast Cancer Awareness Month, here is my wonderful friend and mentor, queen of the satirical folk song, Lu Mitchell, singing her hilarious song, "The Mammogram," and actually finding humor in what we all have to go through...





Oct . 13, 2007

PLASTIC SURGEONS LOSING PATIENCES WITH PATIENTS

Definitely check out the October issue of Allure magazine. I was at the hair salon just long enough to read the article on plastic surgery patients who present themselves to their doctors as self-styled experts. This is becoming a frustrating problem for cosmetic surgeons and dermatologists.

These patients – almost all female -- have never graduated from medical school, but they’ve spent a lot of time on the Internet, where the real truth is, and they walk into the doctor’s office armed with stacks of single-spaced typewritten pages of exacting instructions. They’ve created computer morphed “Before and After” shots of themselves. They know all the medical terminology and sound well-informed to the layman. The problem is, they’ve never actually performed surgery, injected Botox and wrinkle fillers, or learned the hazards of many of the procedures they want their doctors to perform.

Nevertheless, they’re insistent. And they’re never satisfied – they have to keep tinkering. Ultimately, they have even more procedures to “fix” the bad results caused by the original procedures. Then they have to “fix” the “fix.” And then “fix” that.

One doctor quoted in the article spoke of a patient who had returned from Mexico with a vial of some kind of bone cement (I’m not kidding) that she wanted him to inject into her face. As any reputable physician would, he refused, explaining that he had no guarantee of what was in that vial. He could literally be injecting her face with anything, and he wasn’t going to be responsible for that. So she waved bye-bye with her perfectly-manicured hand and continued her search for someone who would do it for her.

No doubt she didn’t have to search for long. I've heard of dermatologists in Dallas who very openly perform procedures – or have their assistants perform them – that are unapproved by the FDA and pose serious risks to one’s health and/or appearance. You can probably find their names on various plastic surgery websites that extoll the virtues of such procedures. Go ahead, look them up, so you’ll know who not to patronize.

This problem seems to be a variation of Body Dysmorphic Disorder, which is what makes anorexics see themselves as fat when they’re actually starving to death and Michael Jackson think he’ll be perfect after just one more plastic surgery. Often it’s a focus on one particular physical flaw, but once that flaw is addressed, it can morph into a pathological appetite for perfection that will never be satisfied.

My friend Dr. Brown, who’s known as one of the best plastic surgeons in Dallas (and that’s saying a lot!), tells me he has women come in and tell him exactly how to make over their breasts. A common instruction is, “Make me as big as you can make me!” But Dr. Brown doesn’t do that. Often, he’ll counsel a patient that because of her height and bone structure, he can’t make her more than, say, a “C.”

I think I can safely say he didn’t do Pam Anderson’s breasts. Or the breasts of any woman who aspires to look like her.

Quite a long time ago, I actually consulted Dr. Brown about a possible reshaping of my nose, and the experience taught me a lot about the psychological aspects of plastic surgery. If you look at pictures of me on my website, you’ll probably say, “Her nose looks just fine! Why would she want to change it?” (at least, I hope you'd say that). Well, the reason was one photograph, taken from an odd angle, that really did make my nose loom large. So I told Dr. Brown that I didn’t want to change the shape of my nose, just make the proportion a little smaller.

He listened, then had me come in for some “Before” pictures, both front and side view. The assistant behind the camera looked confused and had to ask me, “Now, what is it that you wanted changed?”

I’ll never know if Dr. Brown had told her to ask that question, but it sure made me think. “If this person,” I wondered, “who sees hundreds of plastic surgery patients every year, can’t even tell that it’s my nose I’m concerned about, then what is my problem?”

Then, when I saw the photos and realized that they looked more like “After” pictures, I told Dr. Brown that I’d decided against having any work done on my nose. He must have been relieved. And I’m glad that he trusted me to come to my own conclusion; if he’d just said at the outset, “You don’t need it,” I might have just answered, “Well, I think I do.”

Unfortunate, overdone nose jobs are as common as paralyzed faces these days. One big difference, though: Botox wears off in a few months, while, to paraphase James Bond, a nose job is forever. And if the first attempt isn’t right, there has to be another procedure, and perhaps another. I’ve seen many hypershortened noses that are beyond saving. Then the question becomes like a bad trip to a casino: Do you want to walk away with your losses, or risk what you have on another procedure, knowing you’ll probably come out worse but might come out better? In that sense, the addiction to plastic surgery seems to me a lot like the addiction to gambling. With this kind of risk, you might lose the ranch or lose your nose – or, like Michael Jackson, you might lose both.

This isn’t to say that a nose job is never a good thing. If you really don’t like your nose, if it’s caused you to suffer comments and heartache all your life, then I say, “Rah-rah, rhinoplasty!” If you’re in show business, and a slight change in your nose will make you photograph significantly better, then go for it, as lovelies from Paula Abdul to Halle Berry have. But find the best surgeon you can, one who will get it right the first time. Find one who will listen to you, and then…LISTEN TO HIM. Have the work done. And then, if at all possible, consider it a finished work of art.

Your life is a work in progress; your face shouldn’t have to be.




Oct. 10, 2007

A round-up of news from all over...

THE HALLUCINATORY HALO OF HEALTH

The famously shrinking Jared lost tons of weight by eating all his meals at Subway. So everything they have at Subway must be healthy, right? Wrong!

Cornell University found that people who eat at Subway, billed as the healthy, lowfat alternative to typical fast food, tend to consume more calories than McDonald’s diners. They gave students coupons for either a Big Mac (800 calories) or a 12-inch Italian sub with cheese (900 calories) plus any free extras they wanted. Subway eaters were more likely to add chips, a cookie and a non-diet drink because, researchers concluded, Subway has a “health halo” that makes people assume everything is low-calorie. Subway eaters were also more likely to snack later in the day because they think they ‘deserve it” for eating so healthily.

Also because, as everyone knows, free food has no calories.

Their snack of choice? I’m betting it was a Big Mac.

Does anyone really think Jared lost all that weight by eating 12-inch meatball subs with cheese? I’m thinking that most of the people in this study were college students with fast metabolisms, who got the extra cookie because it was free and Subway has really good cookies. The ones who did have weight issues probably just thought, “Well, this is free; I’ll diet tomorrow.” And maybe it’s not that Subway has a “health halo” but that McDonald’s has the opposite: an especially bad rep as unhealthy fast food that makes people choose more carefully. This study may have some merit, but I’ve noticed that researchers, after painstakingly accumulating and analyzing their data, often interpret the facts in an incredibly subjective way. On the bright side, if deluded people keep chowing down on Subway meatball subs, Jared has plenty of big old pants he’d be happy to sell them.


BIG SOUTH AMERICAN BREASTS

I didn’t know this, but it’s become a tradition in Venezuela, a truly beauty-obsessed nation, to give one’s daughter breast implants for her 15th birthday. There’s more plastic surgery taking place in Venezuela than anywhere else on earth – is it any wonder that it produces the most beauty queens? -- and the 15th birthday implants are so popular, they’re advertised on TV. Breast augmentation has become a rite of passage, like nose jobs in Beverly Hills.

Proving the old adage that even a broken clock is right twice a day, socialist president and aspiring revolutionary Hugo Chavez has come out against the ridiculous fad, calling it “horrible” and “the ultimate degradation.” He also wants his country rid of “Western icons”such as Barbie dolls. He lectured the country about this on a recent Saturday TV appearance that ran eight hours.

I hear that people actually watched the whole thing, transfixed. Maybe because it was illustrated.

Obviously, Chavez hasn’t thought this thing through. If he wants a socialist revolution, what could be more helpful than a country full of giant boobs? Also, his stand against fake breasts could be the final straw that makes Venezuelans rise up and overthrow him. He’s said some crazy things before, but this time he’s gone too far!


MORE ON BOOBS

Scientist Patrick Mallucci presented a breakthrough report in London this week. He thoroughly researched photos of hundreds of female celebrities with fake boobs to help plastic surgeons create perfect-looking breasts for clients. (Millions of guys do this job on the Internet, and he’s apparently the only one who gets paid for it.) Speaking to the Breast Enlargement Conference (yes!), he said he’d found the ideal breast job is a “45-55 percent proportion,” with the nipple at least 45 percent from the top and not at the halfway mark or lower.

He also declared British model Caprice to have the best fake boobs in showbiz (they’re absolutely capricious), while the worst are Victoria Beckham’s, which are “unnaturally round.” I tend to agree. Of course, they look that way because in honor of her husband, she had two soccer balls installed.

Also, her nipples are in the bottom 10 percent.

This researcher had wanted to study female celebrities with real breasts, but, unfortunately, he couldn’t find any.


THE RULES OF ATTRACTION: HIGHS AND LOWS

McMaster University in Canada studied the Hadza tribe of Tanzania and found that men with deeper voices had more children than men with higher-pitched voices. Researchers said previous studies found that women find males with deeper voices to be more attractive, judging them to be older, healthier and more dominant and masculine. Also, men perceive women with higher voices as more attractive, subordinate (!), feminine, healthier and younger.

Okay, then, I want to know why Jessica Rabbit, the most seductive cartoon character ever, was voiced by Kathleen Turner, not Jennifer Tilly or the woman who voices Minnie Mouse. And why have men traditionally been attracted to sultry-voiced women like Lauren Bacall and Susan Hayward?

Conversely, why did women like the Bee Gees in the ‘70s? Sting sounds as though he’s on helium, yet he’s perceived to be all the things on the above laundry list. And look at Mick Jagger and Robert Plant: they don’t have deep voices, and I’ll bet they’ve got more children than anybody. Some they don’t even know about.

I personally tend to like lower voices, for both men and women. My husband has worked in radio and doesn’t have the basso profundo “voice of God” announcer’s voice, but it’s still pretty low. It makes him more attractive to me than he’d be with a high voice. On the other hand, he doesn’t have kids. I think this may be another one of those studies in which subjective conclusions have been drawn. Or maybe those conclusions are just particularly true in Tanzania.


STUPID MAN COMPARES OLD WIFE TO NEW

A 43-year-old man in Johor state, Malaysia, was in bed with his 48-year-old wife when he began unfavorably comparing her sex skills with those of his new, younger, second wife. Bad idea!

Wife #1 became enranged, grabbed a kitchen knife and nearly deprived him of his manliness. He managed to get to the hospital and have it sewn securely back in place.

Though the wife could get up to three years in jail, she’s not worried. All she needs is one woman on the jury. Then it’s “justifiable penicide.”

Men, listen up. Never, I repeat, NEVER, compare your older first wife to your younger second wife. Especially when you are naked, and there’s a kitchen knife within reach.


STILL TOO FAT FOR THE RUNWAY

Have you seen the billboards that show anorexic French actress Isabelle Caro nude? The shocking pictures of this emaciated woman are captioned with the slogan, “NO TO ANOREXIA.” There’s a magazine ad, too, and Caro has been featured on Entertainment Tonight and other TV shows. Critics say girls might look at Caro as a role model because she’s getting to be a celebrity, and they have a point. But photographer Oliviero Toscani said that girls with anorexia who look at it would say to themselves that they have to stop dieting, not that they have to look like Isabelle Caro.

My thought is that girls with anorexia will say to themselves that Isabelle Caro looks fat.

Or maybe they’ll look at the pictures and say, “Hey, I’m not that thin... I’d like to be…”

I’ve seen what she looks like, and it’s a skeleton with some skin stretched over it. I don’t know how this woman is still alive. In fact, my theory is that she’s not actually alive. I think there’s been some taxidermy involved. She’s been stuffed and mounted.

Well, mounted.


THE BRITISH ARE PHYSICAL WRECKS

A study by the gym chain L.A. Fitness has found that the fitness of Britons has reached a new low: 53 percent can’t touch their toes, 68 percent can’t do 20 sit-ups, 60 percent can’t carry their weekly shopping home from the supermarket, and a quarter of British women are too fat to fasten their own bras. It has occurred to me that these are the very women who really need to wear bras! I suppose many of them just give up and wear tube tops.

The Brits seriously need to start getting in shape. Here’s one suggestion: If they’re having trouble carrying home their groceries, maybe they should stop buying so much food.

Next: In October’s Allure magazine: Plastic surgery obsession from the doctor’s point of view.



Oct. 7, 2007

DON'T BELIEVE YOUR EYES...OR ANYONE ELSE'S

I’ve just watched two absolute must-see videos. The first one, Onslaught, a Dove film at campaignforrealbeauty.com, opens with a closeup of a lovely fresh-faced girl, maybe about 9 or 10 years old, and then takes off into a bombardment of edgy media images at breakneck pace: flawless faces, perfect bodies in tiny bikinis, and “transformed” skin, interspersed with yo-yo weight loss and even a brief flash of the toilet bowl as it awaits an upchucked meal. (This all happens so fast that one may need several viewings to take it all in.) It ends with another shot of the young girl with her friends as they walk to school and the message, “Talk to your daughter before the beauty industry does.”

Bravo, Dove! Of course, it has to be said that Dove is a part of the beauty industry, but they deserve a huge commendation for their unique approach.

Several months ago, I was surprised by the cynical reaction to the Dove campaign expressed by an acquaintance of mine. “I can just see the executives and ad people sitting around the table, talking about how they need to position their company to cut through the clutter,” she said (I’m paraphrasing here), her eyes rolling. “That’s all it’s really about.” And she considered it exploitative to show the women of various body types in their underwear.

I must confess -- cynic though I am -- that I love the Dove Campaign For Real Beauty. The quest for perfection forced on us from all sides can be so damaging; this campaign shows how we can be suckered by it and helps us find our way back to the real world. Even if, in the end, it is just a way to sell products, at least it’s the right way. May they break all sales records with this campaign.

Dove has another great video that rapidly details the amazing powers of Photoshop to “beautify” a woman’s face. It’s called Evolution, and it's been on their website for some time; but there’s a new one, not associated with Dove, that does the same thing with a woman’s entire body. It’s called The Power Of Photoshop. Unless you’re a professional photographer who’s already skilled at this process, you have to see it to believe it.

In the video, an extremely heavy woman is posing with much of her ample flesh exposed. The Photoshop artist gradually reproportions the woman’s body and face, much as a sculptor chips away at a block of marble to create his vision of Aphrodite. The woman’s dimply skin becomes flawless, her breasts are lifted and shaped, her dark hair triples in volume as her hips become one-third their original size, and the light around her glows like hundreds of buttery candles. She has become a completely different woman, and the effect is totally realistic. Now, she’s ready to post her picture on eharmony.com.

Wow, this is even faster weight loss than they promise in those ads for weight-loss products. No hunger, no surgery, no sagging skin, and the weight stays off!

I’m urging every woman to watch this, in the hope that she’ll never try to compete with Photoshopped media images again.

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A WORM’S-EYE VIEW OF TIME

As any reader of this blog knows, I follow the Perricone Prescription. That means no sugar or other high-glycemic foods and plenty of antioxidants, both in food and as supplements. I think it’s had quite a remarkable effect, not just on how I look but on my overall health, so much so that I even sing an aria, “O Worship Dr. Perricone,” in my show.





Scientifically, Perricone has been on the cutting edge, but the jury is still out on some of his recommendations. For example, the German Institute of Human Nutrition says that a key to living longer might be giving up sweets and – here’s the surprising part – avoiding vitamins.

At least, if you’re a worm.

In their study, they blocked the ability of worms to process glucose, with the result that they (the worms, not the researchers) lived 25 percent longer. In a human, that translates into about 15 years. The scientists found that restricting sugar at first caused the worms to build up free radicals that cause aging. You’d think that would be a bad thing, but their bodies responded by building up stronger, long-lasting defenses. This might explain why taking antioxidant vitamins to wipe out free radicals doesn’t seem to help people live longer. The researchers said, “The bad thing in the end promotes something good.”

So it seems to me that, if you restrict sugar and take antioxidants, you won’t live longer, but you will look younger when you die. Very important if you want an open casket. You should have seen how young these worms looked – you wouldn’t even have known they were segmented! They looked unsegmented!

Actually, I know what preserves worms best of all. Tequila.



Oct. 3, 2007

TO GRAY OR NOT TO GRAY

Did you know that the typical mega-bookstore has an entire section devoted to aging? It's true! You see, it's very important to age in exactly the right way, because every choice you make is going to be a political and personal statement, loaded with implications about your values. I just found this out in an article called "The War Over Going Gray" by Anne Kreamer, who has also written an entire book on how your hair should age. It's called Going Gray.

Kreamer, after coloring her hair for over 20 years, decided to stop doing it. "I found to my surprise," she says, "that by visually challenging my peers (if I was really gray, so must they be!), I unwittingly landed myself on the front lines of a public struggle - literally superficial but at the same time almost existentially meaningful to American women - with the vicissitudes of age."

She says she encountered two reactions: "a sort of proud, sometimes, sanctimonious right-on-sister enthusiasm from fellow gray-haired women," and "an equally proud, sometimes resentful don't-judge-my-choices-I-do-this-to-feel-good-about-me defensiveness in the comments of the committed-to-dyeing cohort."

"Hardly anyone was lukewarm in their reactions," she continues, "which suggests to me we may have a contentious new baby-boomer argument over gray hair that is as mutually judgmental as the mommy wars between working and stay-at-home mothers was in the 1980s and '90s."

Again with the boomer thing. Never mind that the youngest boomers -- many of whom, I'm sure, are graying now -- were three years old during the Summer Of Love. Among even the oldest boomers, I'll bet I could find a few who weren't cutting class to join sit-ins or dropping acid at Woodstock. Nevertheless, there's an assumption that all the baby boomers used to be hippies and they'd be selling out, man, to do something as dishonest as color their hair! It's ironic: former flower children are obligated to say goodbye to the hair they had as children. The kids who believed they should "never trust anyone over 30" are now forced to deal with the politics of age. Well, what goes around comes around.

I know I live in Dallas, home of the hair that's big and blond, but have I completely missed something? Where is the existential meaning in the decision about hair color? Why is hair color an "age thing" at all? High school girls color their hair. High school boys color their hair. Twelve-year-old girls get highlights, just for fun. Most women of all ages change the color of their hair or at least enhance it in some way.

Women go gray "in their 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s and beyond." Hair color, including the way it changes through the years, is a genetic trait. Raven-haired Lara Flynn Boyle has said in an interview that her hair turned totally white in her twenties but that she chose to keep it dark. (I agree that the dark hair is very dramatic against her fair skin.) But all-over silver hair can beautiful at any age; I think women such as Emmylou Harris who attain it at a young age and look beautiful in it are lucky. And just think - if you're tall, skinny, have great skin and beautiful white hair, you can be quite successful modeling for Chico's.

I didn't get the "white hair" gene. My poker-straight blond hair, about a decade ago, started turning a little darker and more ashy. I had it highlighted for awhile, but so many Dallas women are blond that I'm glad I made the decision eight years ago to turn it a vibrant but natural-looking red. It makes me feel good. It makes my eyes look bluer. And the shade suits my overall coloring so well that most of the people I've met in the past eight years are stunned when I tell them I'm not a real redhead.

Judging from my eyebrows, the hair on my head is probably coming in an ashy-blondy-brownish color. If I stopped coloring it, the occasional gray hairs that might be there would probably blend in and look like subtle highlights, if they were noticed at all. My mom didn't get much gray in her taupe-colored hair until very late in life, so I probably won't, either. I'll never have Emmylou Harris hair. I have as much chance of that as of having curly hair. Or thick hair, drat.

Never did I dream that by coloring my hair I was being dishonest in any way or making some kind of personal statement about aging. But it seems I have been, without even realizing it!

Kreamer points out that of the 16 female U.S. Senators, not a single one has visible gray hair, though they range in age from 46 to 74. Of the 70 female members of the House, only seven have gray hair. "Political professionals," she reports, "say that the double standard is a great unspoken inequity but that candidates and officeholders don't dare publicly discuss it for fear of seeming trivial."

What double standard? There may presently be, percentage-wise, more gray-haired men than gray-haired women in office, but that number is going down as more and more men feel the pressure to look young and vital. Ronald Reagan dyed his hair. (The joke was that he'd gone "prematurely orange.") I'm sure quite a few men in Congress do. I'd be willing to bet Mitt Romney's coloring the gray, and my hunch is that other Presidential candidates - not just Hillary Clinton -- are, too. Joe Biden got a hair transplant. And imagine how many toupees there must be among politicians! How many men in politics are being "dishonest" by covering their male pattern baldness?

Kreamer's article paraphrases Clairol's in-house creative director of color and style as saying that one powerful motivator of gray-haired women to dye their hair is to live the fantasy that they're still 30 or 35 instead of 45 or 60. (This statement chafes me for so many reasons that if I were currently using Clairol hair coloring, I'd switch to another brand.) She says that rather than sell it as a fantasy or lie, the postmodern beauty industry casts artificial color as a means of expressing a deeper truth about who one is.

Gee. I color mine because it's fun, it looks striking on stage and, as previously noted, it makes my eyes look bluer.

Rose Weitz, who wrote Rapunzel's Daughters: What Women's Hair Tells Us About Women's Lives (Jeez, another book on aging hair??), says, "Even if, in the abstract, we think we look all right with gray hair, we nonetheless feel as if we are losing our 'real selves' if we no longer have our 'real hair color' - the color we had when we were young and looked our best." If that's true, I should want to be blonde forever. And who says we "looked our best" back then, anyway? Some of us did. Some look better today.

Interestingly, Kreamer notes that when she tested gray hair vs. brown hair on Match.com, posting the pictures three months apart, she had much more success as the gray-haired version of herself. (She gave her age accurately for each posting.) Three times as many men in New York City, Chicago and even Los Angeles were interested in the "gray" Kreamer. She speculates that her honesty made her seem refreshing and accessible, or that perhaps her gray hair made her stand out among all the fake, colored hair.

Both of those possibilities may be true. But an additional consideration is that the gray just looks really good on her. Did she ever think about that?

Probably not. In her article, she says, "These days, choosing not to dye has become a statement rather than a casual stylistic choice."

She obviously didn't talk to me. But I'm telling you now that, down the road, as I get more gray in my hair, my decision about coloring it will be nothing more than a casual stylistic choice. My hair color will never be a political statement. It will not reveal my numerical age. It will not clue others in to my opinions any more than my numerical age does.

And to you gray-hairs out there, dyed or not: Unless you're in a field that demands employees who look as if they're straight from Central Casting, I recommend that you get over yourself and stop overanalyzing this issue. Do whatever you like with your hair. It's not that important. Really.

Kreamer didn't talk to my friend Lu, either. Lu is a longtime Dallas folksinger and songwriter who has straight, thick, uniformly gray hair. It's not a dramatic white or silver, just light gray. She wears it in a distinctive short cut that looks good on her. (For those who care how old she is, she's 80, though she looks many years younger, even with the gray.) I asked her about the to-dye-or-not-to-dye question; does she keep her natural color as a personal statement, or what?

Her attitude was very much like mine. She's not making any statement; she just chose to do what she liked. I saw an old picture of her with brown hair, and I have to say, I like the gray better on her. The lighter color is eye-catching, and she stands out in the crowd.

She could go blonde, and I'd say the same thing.



Sept. 22, 2007

Maddison Gabriel has blue eyes, dark blond hair, and is 5-foot 7. That’s not very tall for a model, but in this case, she could still grow a few inches. She just turned 13 years old.

Chosen when she was 12 to be the official ambassador of Gold Coast Fashion Week in Queensland, Australia, she apparently wore a number of revealing outfits during the event. How revealing? I don’t know, but I’d be willing to bet they wouldn’t have met the dress code at my middle school.

Her participation has sparked strong debate in Australia, with Prime Minister John Howard deeming it unacceptable. “Catapulting girls as young as 12 into something like that is outrageous,” he said. “There should be age limits -- I mean there has to be -- we do have to preserve some notion of innocence in our society.” Europe has set an age limit of 16 for appearing on catwalks (I didn’t know that); he wants Australia to do the same.

But Maddison’s mom has demanded an apology from the Prime Minister. He’s getting “very doddery,” she says. “He does not know exactly what 13 and 14-year-old girls are like. I used to vote for him. We’re trying to get our teenage daughters to act older.”

Why? So old rich guys will want to date them?

Fashion Week spokesman Kelly Wieler said, “Maddy got in because she was the best contestant. The judges saw that she was fit to do the job.” She added that Maddy wouldn’t be modeling swimwear or lingerie. (She didn’t mention that many designer clothes look just like lingerie and are just as revealing.)

As for Maddison, she feels she deserved to win and become the “face” of the show. “I believe that I can fit into women’s clothes, I can model women’s clothes, so I should be able to do it, she insisted. “It doesn’t matter about age. It matters that you can do the job. Modeling is all I’ve wanted to do since I was six. I don’t think I’m too young.”

If she can fit into women’s clothes, it’s because most of them seem designed for women who are built like 12-year-olds. And even though I’ve said many times and believe with my whole heart that “it doesn’t matter about age,” I am always talking about the world of adults. This is another issue entirely.

For me, the most important question to ask is why the “face” of this women’s fashion event is that of a barely 13-year-old girl. “Best” is subjective; why was she considered the “best” contestant? She’s a cute girl, and if this were a junior fashion show, she would be perfect. But this event is for grownup women, and I don’t understand why grownup women are supposed to aspire to look like a seventh-grader, albeit a very tall one playing dress-up in mommy’s makeup and heels.

This attitude about fashion and beauty is not unique to Australia. Here in Dallas, we have an annual event called the Fashion!Dallas/Kim Dawson model search. (Fashion!Dallas is part of The Dallas Morning News, and the Kim Dawson Agency is a local modeling agency.) Each year, hundreds of contestants show up at a mall to have their pictures snapped. There are specific height and age requirements. Judges select the finalists, whose pictures appear in the paper. Readers get to vote for their faves and select two Readers’ Choice winners, but the judges pick the actual winner or winners. This is a big deal; being chosen can really jump-start a career in modeling. Case in point: the first year’s winner, Erin Wasson, who went on to be a top international model.

The age threshold for a girl entering this contest is 14; the cutoff age is, I think, 21. Last year, the girl who won, Ali Michael, was – you guessed it -- 14.

I’m reminded of myself at 14, certainly tall enough to model after growing six inches in one year! My height was 5-foot-9, considerably taller than most of the boys (alas), and I was to grow another inch. I was skinny, too, with blue eyes and long, straight, very blonde hair. But I was painfully shy, absolutely naïve, and certainly no fashion plate; Mom made most of my clothes. I’d gotten contact lenses but was a year or so away from wearing makeup. Maybe someone could’ve gotten hold of me then and made a model out of me, but I’m glad nobody did. I was a baby – way too young. I wasn’t at all ready to be a model in the very adult and sometimes rough world of fashion.

Today, though, the fashion world actually seems to prefer babies to wear its grownup clothes. It’s not my imagination – the models really are getting younger. In real life, some of these models wouldn’t even be old enough to wear a prom dress.

By amazing coincidence (I’d already started writing this piece), today’s paper features this year’s finalists in the Model Search. There are a dozen finalists this year, all girls, ranging in age from 14 to 20. The 20-year-old, a 5-foot-11 brunette named Ren Vokes, is described as the “elder statesman” of the group. “Everyone here is 14 and I’m 20,” she observes. “I feel like an old person for the first time in my life.”

Cry me a river.

Not all the other girls are 14, but most are 14-16. Looking at their headshots, I’d think they all could get work as professional models. (An interesting aside: one of the 14-year-olds is Asian, and she still has Eastern-style eyes, with no fold. I wonder if this pretty girl will feel pressure to change that.) In the photos, they all look closer in age than they actually are. I don’t have a favorite to win, but I’d be more likely to bet on one at the lower end of the age range than the upper end.

I can remember, way back in the Jurassic Period, when teenage model Brooke Shields created a scandal just by saying, “Know what comes between me and my Calvins? Nothing.” It was widely thought that she was too young to do such a suggestive ad. Times have changed. Young teens now look to such stunning role models as Paris Hilton as their fashion icons.

Even so, my concern is less for the extremely young girls involved in modeling than for the grownup women who feel compelled to try to look like them. Think about it: even a 30-year-old woman is surrounded by images of girls half her age. Some of these models are in ads for anti-aging products.

What is wrong with this picture?

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Next time: “To Gray Or Not To Gray…that is the question,” and you better get the answer right because it’s an incredibly significant personal statement and a matter of political correctness. Or so I’ve read.




Sept. 20, 2007

Facing Spiegel's "Reality," Beestung Breasts & Other News

The Spiegel catalog has just arrived - I get one about every three days - and once again, there's a section called "Reality Dressing - fabulous at every age!" As you might guess, it's one of my biggest pet peeves. This one has eight full pages of how to dress in your 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s, and "ageless," which I assume is code for 70 and over.

It starts with a two-page spread featuring one women from each of the age groups; for example, the 50s are represented by Beverly Johnson, "legendary model." (This is one of those rare gigs for 50-plus models.) The other women are not professional models. They include a pediatric nurse, a real estate broker, a copy editor and a retired teacher. The 40s are represented by Lynette Lewis, author of "Climbing the Ladder in Stilettos," though she appears to be wearing a medium-height heel. All the women, from 20 to "ageless," look polished, confident and attractive.

They're all dressed in "casual chic" for fall: black pants with lots of leather. But there's a problem: I'm supposed to see how they illustrate "leather in every look for every age," but for the life of me, I can't see what it is that makes the clothes appropriate for their particular age group. As long as these women have essentially the same body shape, any one of them could wear any of the outfits. And if they could, why have they been divided into decades? I don't see the point of this whole exercise.

I personally would wear any of the outfits on these two pages, except maybe the boxy red jacket they put on the "ageless" woman, simply because I think big jackets overwhelm my willowy build. I feel swallowed by them, and would "at any age." Ditto the super-wide pants on the 60s woman.

The next two-page spread features a lineup of put-together outfits - no models here, just the clothes - with one supposedly for the 20s, one for the 30s, and on through "ageless." I'd wear the 20s and 40s outfits but definitely not the 30s, 60s or "ageless" ones. (Oops, they seem to have left out the 50s! Whatever will Beverly Johnson wear?)

The next two-page spread has another lineup, this time of "9-to-5 looks for every age and every style." None of these are my style. One possible exception is the 20s look, but it has those floppy, wide pants. An outfit that might look chic on someone - someone who isn't me -- is the black "ageless" pantsuit, which could look quite smart for the right business occasion. But with its matching long coat, it's so covered-up. Any long coat tends to make me think of Bea Arthur, and black pantsuits remind me of Hillary Clinton. As for the outfits for 30s, 40s and 50s, they look matronly and would add about 20 pounds - some might say 20 years -- to anyone's frame. (Again, these clothes are shown without models.) I would never wear them, "at any age."

Moving on to the next two-page spread, we come to my favorite part. The catalog takes one article of clothing, in this case a leopard-print "trapeze" jacket, and shows it used appropriately for the 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s and 60s. (Oops, this time they left out "ageless"!) And for each decade, they thoughtfully provide an appropriate adjective.

In your 20s, you want to be "edgy." In your 30s, "sophisticated." The 40s are "elegant." The 50s are "adventurous." Finally, in your 60s, it's time to be "dramatic." And, believe it or not, for the woman in her 60s, they pair the leopard-print jacket with A LEOPARD-PRINT SKIRT. My Lord! Even SCTV's Edith Prickley wore a tasteful black skirt with her leopard jacket. That's right, I am telling you that even Edith Prickley had enough taste to know that top-to-toe leopard would've been too much! What are they thinking??? And why didn't they include a matching, leopard-print pillbox hat?

I've tried to cultivate a wardrobe that manages to be edgy, sophisticated, elegant, adventurous and dramatic, all on a limited budget. Ironically, many of my clothes come from the Newport News catalog. Newport News is part of Spiegel.

So, listen up, Spiegel. I am not a demographic category. I have always been and will continue to be "ageless." Stop defining a woman by her decade of life. I hate it, and I'm sure many other women are sick of it, too. Your "Reality Dressing" pages are a prime example of the age-obsession that drives me insane.

It's not my reality at all.

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BEE STING DEFLATES BREAST, AND OTHER NEWS

Southern China City News reports that a woman from Miaoli, Taiwan, was riding her motorcycle while wearing a low-cut dress when a bee stung her on the breast. "My right breast disappeared in one day," she said of her saline implant. I understand this was so traumatic for her, she broke out in hives. Her surgeon said this is very unusual, but the woman is very skinny, and her thin skin was stretched tightly over the implant. (Bet that looked natural!) Ironically, her natural breasts were exactly the size of bee stings. The doctor replaced her implant but advised her to avoid acupuncture. Also, lapel pins.

Victoria Beckham should be warned about this.

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Speaking of breast implants, did you know that the Australian military has given taxpayer-funded breast implants to some of its female sailors? (Maybe they take it out of the budget for torpedoes.) A spokesman defended this practice, saying plastic surgery is provided where there are compelling medical, dental or psychological reasons. He said suggestions that they're trying to make the female sailors look sexy are not only wrong, but insulting.

Of course, suggestions that the sailors don't look sexy are also wrong and insulting.

The spokesman also noted that in an emergency, breast implants can double as flotation devices. And women who've had the surgery don't have to admit it. The policy regarding plastic surgery is strictly, "Don't ask, don't tell."

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More implant news: The Hindustan Times reports that Indian men have noticed women looking at their butts, and they're getting self-conscious about it. A doctor at one cosmetic surgery clinic said that for every seven female patients he sees, there are now two men coming in for butt treatments. "Butt therapy" can involve anything from liposuction and toning/firming to hair and scar removal. A few men have even gone in for implants, but so far, not many. Probably just Bollywood actors.

If this doctor wants more male patients for this procedure, he should tell them that butt implants will help align their lower chakras.

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A Cosmopolitan magazine survey of over 5,000 Australian women found that they are unhappy with their bodies but don't know how to change them. Almost half said if they could change anything about their lives, it would be their bodies; 42 percent consider themselves overweight or obese. Yet a quarter of the women exercise once a month or less, and nearly half don't eat fruit every day. One in six women prefer chocolate to sex, and one in ten would rather skip a meal than give up alcohol to lose weight. Yet 10 percent said they're so depressed about their bodies, they'd give up four or more years of their lives to lose weight. Presumably, they mean the years they'd have to spend on a weight-loss diet.

Realistically, as long as women are this depressed, is there any way they could give up cheesecake? Not to mention chocolate -- if it's better than sex, giving it up would be worse than death. I can also see why they'd rather give up food than booze: food reminds them they're fat, while booze helps them forget they're fat. With these habits, they may indeed lose four or more years of their lives, and still die fat.

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Speaking of chocolate, a psychologist at England's University of Bristol says that despite what chocoholics think, chocolate is not literally addictive. He said some people may think they have no control over their craving for it, but the compounds in chocolate that produce a buzz in the brain are found in higher concentrations in other foods, such as cheese and avocados, which are not generally thought of as addictive foods.

This doesn't explain the people who would do anything for a Klondike bar. But I think it's probably the same as with nuts: sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't.

I also believe there may be people addicted to avocados. I no longer eat chocolate (it causes my migraines-drat!!), but I can polish off a pretty generous bowl of guacamole. Especially if it has a little cheese on it.

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Finally, the Northern Italian town of Piobbico has unveiled a monument to ugly people. It's sponsored by the World Association of Ugly People, an Italian-born group that has spread around the world. Their motto: A person is what he is and not what he looks like. So instead of a monument showing a good-looking movie star or dashing war hero, this monument depicts "a person who is just as beautiful, but only on the inside."

It will be unveiled, then immediately veiled again.

Oh, and the person they have chosen wins a free Extreme Makeover.

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Next time: the new star of fashion modeling. She just turned 13.




Sept. 18, 2007

WEIGHING IN ON BRITNEY, MADONNA & DEMI

I've seen footage of Britney Spears as a little girl, singing confidently and on-key. After she'd had a few hits, I saw her sing live on "Saturday Night Live," just sitting on a stool with a hand-held microphone, and thought she did a good job. But Britney's appeal has been more about her hot dancer's body and her choreography - some nice moves, but certainly not too difficult for most high school drill teams to pull off -- than about her voice.

In case you are Amish or from the planet Neptune, I should mention that the voice we've heard on CDs and in concert was created in a studio. (To find out how modern hit songs are manufactured, just click here.) In concert or on TV, Britney is always lip-synching to a backing track. If you think that's because she can't be expected to sing while she's dancing, you haven't ever been to a Broadway show. And her songs, while catchy in the beginning, are now just tuneless and annoying attempts to be seductive, delivered in that generic overproduced whisper that also marks the "music" of Janet Jackson and countless other pop and hip-hop artists who really don't have much voice at all. (To be fair to Britney, these other artists also lip-synch.)

I don't know what happened to Britney's voice. Maybe she just got so accustomed to lip-synching that she lost her confidence for singing live. Or maybe she spends so much time in loud clubs, talking over music, smoking Marlboros and pouring hard liquor down her throat, that she's fried her vocal chords. Whatever the reason, Britney is a musical performer who never sings.

So what does she have left? Her ability to lip-synch, her smooth dance moves, her hot, sexy body? As we saw on the recent MTV Music Video Awards show, the lip-synching and the dance moves didn't come off well. Some of the choreography didn't come off at all. Later, it was revealed that Britney was 4-1/2 hours late to rehearsal and showed up with a frozen margarita in her hand after clubbing all night. She has only herself to blame for that, but with all the personal trauma she's been through in recent years, self-inflicted or not, and the constant public scrutiny, I'm wondering whether--deep down--she even wants to be on stage. (Check out late-night host Craig Ferguson's monologue on the relentless criticism and joking about Britney.) If she doesn't, she should go somewhere secluded, find some serious help, and get her life together. This will take some time. There are plenty of attractive girls with talent who'd love to be pop superstars and who would definitely show up for rehearsal.

She did make the cover of Entertainment Weekly, and the feature story is all about her, but I'm sorry: there is such a thing as bad publicity, and this is it.

Some might say that Britney's missing rehearsal was a sign of her overconfidence. I speculate that it was the opposite. This was to be The Comeback, and she must've been feeling more pressure than she could handle. So she avoided the situation, preferring to down drink after drink of liquid confidence to get herself up on that stage. Yeah, that helped. Good plan.

So, simply through lack of preparedness, her dance moves didn't click. She wasn't sure of the lyrics, either, even though they seemed to consist of nothing more than "gimme, gimme, gimme," so at some point she simply stopped mouthing them.

That leaves her hot, sexy body.

The Internet has exploded with comments, pro and con, about Britney's appearance on that show. They range from "Most women would kill to have that body" (probably true) to "Britney is a fat tub of lard" (a gross exaggeration). Most of the "fat" remarks have been incredibly snide, and I'd be willing to bet that most were made by people who weigh more than Britney. Weight seems to be something that no one can get exactly right, and yet it's sooooo important. Opinions vary, and everyone has to "weigh in."

Two pregnancies - along with, it must be said, mass quantities of fried chicken and tater tots - had wrought havoc on Britney's trim, sexy body long before the MTV show, but she had gotten herself into pretty fair shape for The Comeback. It was revealed later that she rejected the flattering outfit created for her as "not sexy enough" in favor of the tiny black bra and little-boy shorts she must've been carrying around in her purse. That must've been the margaritas talking. Or maybe it was the outfit she'd been clubbing in the night before.

The body that might have looked stunning in the other outfit definitely lost its "wow factor" in the bra-and-shorts. Britney doesn't seem to understand what "sexy" is. It's not getting out of a limo in a short skirt and no panties. It's not wearing as little clothing as you can get away with on TV, especially if the outfit is unflattering. In other words, this discussion shouldn't even be about Britney's weight. It should be about her taste and her judgment.

Also, have you noticed that the emphasis on super-thinness seems confined to white girls? Beyonce has a little extra poundage - temporarily lost to shoot "Dreamgirls," but now comfortably back on -- and so does Jennifer Lopez. They are both considered sexy. Queen Latifah's career hasn't been hurt by her size. It's only the white singers who have to be matchstick thin. I just read a capsule review of white blues singer Joss Stone that mentioned she'd finally lost her baby fat; would that have been said of a black singer? Unlike Britney, Joss Stone is a tremendous talent, but we're still talking about her weight.

When looking at Britney's career, it might be useful to compare her with Madonna. Both started as hot, young dancer/singers with lithe bodies and small voices. Both had the early success in pop music that's typically associated with flashes-in-the-pan. Both appealed to a young, fickle demographic. Yet Madonna built on her early success, while Britney soon faltered. I'd say - and Madonna would no doubt agree - that the critical difference was Madonna's steely determination and singlemindedness. Critics say that Madonna has constantly "reinvented herself" (a term I hate; I'll have to write about that sometime), but I don't think that's it. Her various incarnations were always expressions of the Madonna we knew; the important thing is that she grew as an artist. By the time she sang the torch song "Sooner Or Later" for the film Dick Tracy, her voice had become a lovely thing. The chirpiness heard on early hits such as "Borderline" was gone, replaced by a rich, emotional, mature sound. She sings live in concert, though probably with a backing track, and she's kept her dancer's body, even at almost twice Britney's age.

Ironically, the very maturity that transformed her voice has been her biggest liability in the pop music world. Now in her late 40s, Madonna is the brunt of jokes about her age. It doesn't even seem to matter that she's kept her body in top form. Weight is something virtually all of us can do something about, but age...well. No one, repeat, NO ONE can turn back the clock.

Case in point: Demi Moore, who is in the news. (If an over-40 actress is in the news, you can bet the subject will be age.) In the London Daily Mail, Lucretia Munro writes that four years after undergoing a massively expensive, top-to-toe makeover, Demi has failed to win the big Hollywood roles she'd hoped for. It's estimated that she spent close to half a million dollars on personal trainers, nutritionists, yoga instructors and various surgical and cosmetic procedures. Those who follow such things say she even had an operation on her knees to lift the sagging skin. Demi showed off her lean, sexy body in 2003, emerging from the sea in a skimpy bikini for Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle.

Since that time, she's appeared in only two films, with two more to be released this fall, while ex-husband Bruce Willis (almost a decade older than she) has appeared in 13.

Demi has said she hoped to overturn the belief that juicy roles should not be given to older actresses, but it doesn't seem to be working out that way, even though she's looking great. And the problem seems to be unique to Hollywood; European filmmakers tend to care much less about it. "If we are told we are not valuable once we hit 30, it is a problem," Demi said. "We have to say, 'I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take it anymore.'"

The same article quotes Sharon Stone as saying, "When I went to the Oscars, it was like, 'Oh, there's been an archeological dig and look what we've found, a 40-year-old."

Her body looks great, too, but you don't see too many Sharon Stone movies coming out these days, do you? So maybe Britney Spears should just concentrate on looking like a normal, healthy woman, growing up, finding better friends, getting to know her kids, seeing a good therapist and living a happy life. Even if she starved herself into a size 2 and decided to get serious about a comeback, she'd have to realize that untalented pop stars have an even shorter shelf life than Hollywood actresses.




Sept. 6, 2007


IT’S THE “AGE” OF INSANE FASHION MAGAZINES

Just got home from the hair salon, where, in addition to enhancing the fabulosity of my trademark red mane, I typically spend time researching the treatment of age and beauty in various women’s magazines. Today I struck the mother lode – or should I say “load” – with the September issue of Glamour.

The headline reads “LOOK & FEEL YOUR SEXIEST AT 20, 30, 40 – The hair, the skin, the body, the secrets!” Three beautiful babes are on the cover, identified as “Hot At Every Age! Claire Danes, 28; Queen Latifah, 37; and Mariska Hargitay, 43.” Inside, there are headlines such as “20? 30? 40? Who Cares?,” while the very existence of this issue shows that the editors of Glamour, their advertisers and their presumed readership care very much. In fact, they seem pathologically obsessed with it.

There’s a whole section called the “20, 30, 40 Special – Inspiration for every age” that includes features such as “What Will You Look Like In 20 Years?,” “Look And Feel Your Sexiest at 20, 30, 40” and (my personal favorite) “Everything You Need To Know About Being 20, 30, 40.”

Spread throughout the magazine are pages such as “Look-great ideas at 20, 30, 40.” I learn on this page that the 20s are a great time to live out a travel fantasy (like Claire Danes), the 30s are when you make time for a cause (like Queen Latifah), and the 40s are the time to “be proud! ‘I’m aging like a fine wine and showing young women, look at what you can grow into'” (like Mariska Hargitay). Okay, thinking of yourself as a role model is great, but can’t you travel, work for a cause, or be proud of yourself at any age? What’s with all the categories?

And while we’re at it, what are the 50s the time for? Apparently, they’re the time for death, because there is nary a mention of anyone in this magazine who’s over 49. Yet they keep repeating the mantra, “at every age…at every age…,” as if there were no women over 49. Many women I know who have the digit “5” in their ages, not to mention “6,” “7” or even “8” (one of my dearest friends is a very current 80), might legitimately wonder what the editors of Glamour mean by “every age.”

Of course, they’re not going to target women that old, because their advertisers obviously want to reach the – you guessed it – 20s, 30s and 40s. This is why so many magazines make a point of specifying these decades over and over, month after month. Their advertisers want to sell clothes and skincare products to 20-year-olds and 40-year-olds. My guess is that demographic research has convinced the editors that this is about as wide a net as they can cast and still keep those valued 20-year-olds, who are also – surprise -- turning into a big new market for anti-aging products. So Glamour can have a full-page ad for Aveeno “clear complexion foaming cleanser” (to fight acne) and also one for Neutrogena “anti-oxidant age reverse day lotion” (to fight aging). Gosh, there’s even one full-page ad, for Revlon Age-Defying Makeup, that screams “DEFY AGE” in huge red letters.

More magazine, in contrast, covets advertisers who are selling to women 40-plus, and they try – again, way too hard -- to define themselves in terms of that particular golden demographic. In this magazine, it’s the 20s and 30s who don’t exist. Virtually everything in More is devoted to reminding one of one’s age; I can hardly get through an issue without throwing it across the room. Jeez, give me a break! I’ve ranted about More magazine before and will do so again; for now, let me just say that, although it often contains wonderful writing from insightful contributors (all over 40, of course), it’s based on a concept at odds with my philosophy of truly “ageless living.” Sure, it puts a positive spin on aging, but it also puts a not-so-positive spin on my head by obsessing relentlessly over everybody’s age.

This particular issue of Glamour is just about as bad. I say “just about” because there’s still quite a bit of content that’s more like their usual thing, with no reference to age. They have a spread on “the best fall clothes for your body type” as opposed to “for your age,” and another one on “a power look at every price” as opposed to “for every age.” They include tips for making more money, losing weight and enhancing one’s understanding of the male animal – things women in general truly are interested in. (Aside: I listed those three things according to relative difficulty.)

But then we get to page 253, and the headline: “20, 30, 40…Hot at every age!” Here, we get to see which decade of life all our favorite Hollywood stars (under 50) are currently enjoying. Superimposed in a little circle over each star’s picture is – you guessed it – her age. Who’s 20? Who’s 30? Who’s 40? We have to know! Who’s younger than we would’ve guessed? Who’s older, but passing for younger? Who’s had plastic surgery? (My guess: virtually all.) Have you had enough? Ready to throw the magazine across the room yet?

But then, turn the page, and there’s something that, in spite of the “20, 30, 40” in the headline, I actually like: “Doing it all wrong at 20, 30, 40. Women explain the value of throwing out your timeline.”

All right! We hear from a woman who moved back in with her parents at 31, graduated college at 37, had a baby at 45. No, these are not the same woman. Three different women made choices that ignore the traditional timetable, and they’re glad they did. It’s a great message -- although the parents of the 31-year-olld might disagree.

On the very same page, though, is another groaner: “The Perfect Woman In Each Decade.” This pushes me towards the precipice of violent rage, for so many reasons. But here it is: According to a Glamour poll, the perfect woman in her 20s is (for men) Jessica Alba, 26, and (for women) America Ferrera, 23. Men and women agreed on the perfect woman in her 30s; that would be (ugh) Angelina Jolie, 32. Wow, they sure didn’t ask me. They also agreed that the perfect 40-something woman is Salma Hayek, 40.

Does everything have to be broken down into decades? Is our view of ourselves based entirely on the fact that we use a base-10 numerical system?

I turn the page in frustration, and there’s more: “Celebs at 20, 30, 40,” which shows how 40-something stars have changed their looks through the decades, and “We asked guys, what do you love about women in their 20s, in their 30s, in their 40s?” I don’t even want to hear it.

I turn the page again, and this is the worst part of all! “Guess the star’s age! 20? 30? 40? A good outfit never tells. (Bonus points if you can spot the 61-year-old!)” Yes, it actually says this! We see six fashionably-dressed celebrities, but only from the shoulders down. You check a key to see if you guessed right; it turns out that 61-year-old Jaclyn Smith is third from the left.

So, okay, I have to admit, one woman over 49 does appear in this magazine. But does the picture of a headless woman thrown into the mix as a novelty in an age-guessing game really count?

It just goes on and on. In “The Secrets To A Happy Life, three generations of smart, successful women mouth off about what happens to your head and your heart (and your knees!) as you grow from 20, to 30, to 40 and beyond.”

Oh, wait! I’ve spotted someone else over 49! It’s Kathleen Turner, identified as 53, saying, “I had a great time being young, but I have no desire to look the same now.” I find it meaningful that the picture of her they chose to run was taken when she was much younger. It even says, “Turner in her thirties.” Apparently, the editors desire that she look the same.

Even the feature story, “It Took Three Women To Make This Baby,” leads off this way: “When a couple in their forties, an egg donor in her twenties and a surrogate in her thirties used science to create a child…” Normally, I’d find a story like this interesting, but in this context, I’m thinking, “Enough already!”

Towards the back of the magazine, after some luscious fashion spreads, there’s “Look And Feel Your Sexiest At 20, 30, 40!” We learn that Claire Danes thinks her metabolism is slowing down at 28, that Queen Latifah has lost her sexual hangups and is now happily enjoying the “dirty thirties” at 37, and that 43-year-old Mariska Hargitay says, “You hit your forties, and you’re fearless, you’re just unstoppable.”

Okay…

If my blog about this magazine seems unusually long, remember: it did say that it would tell you EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW about being 20, 30 and 40. So, hey, I had to cover a lot of ground! Now, it’s time to sum up with what I think is wrong with this whole approach.

When I see a magazine like this one, I know I’m on the right track with my beliefs about age. It’s why I write this blog, and one big reason why I perform “My Ship Has Sailed.” My dream is for one’s age to be thought of as essentially meaningless, like one’s shoe size. Maybe someday we’ll get there, but, judging from this magazine, I think it may have to get worse before it gets better. I hope that twenty years from now, my nieces -- for the record, now in their twenties -- will find this old copy of Glamour in a garage sale somewhere and just laugh and laugh.

What does it mean to be in a particular decade of life? This question was on my mind this past weekend, because it was the fourth anniversary of my mom’s death. Mom died of something totally unrelated to her age; the hospital was never forthcoming, but I think she developed an infection there that shut her organs down two days after a routine appendectomy. She’d been in great health all her life, and I think she would’ve lived many years longer. Over the past few days, I’ve been thinking back to where my mom was in her life when she was in “my decade.”

It was totally different. She was dealing with the personal problems of a husband and two daughters; I’m married but have no kids, unless 16 parrots count. (Mom would never have had parrots!) She had a great head for business but no career. I’ve worked all my life as a writer and performer and am only now shifting the career into high gear. Mom and I were so different; she didn’t really share my interests in the arts or theatre or humor. She hadn’t taken care of herself well and in “my decade” underwent a complete facelift; something I wouldn’t need at all and can’t even imagine contemplating for many years. In “my decade,” mom even became widowed; my father died tragically at a young age. She lived for two more decades as a widow, spending most of her time taking care of her grandchildren as they arrived and, as far as I know, not going on even one date for the rest of her life.

So what does it mean to be 20, 30, 40? I say there’s no way to answer that question. I say it’s a stupid question. I can only conclude that it’s a stupid question that sells magazines.



Sept. 5, 2007


MEN: THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE BALD

Every day, I see stories in the news relating to The Big Age And Beauty Thing, but today it's an embarrassment of riches - mostly embarrassing to men, I'm sorry to say. Where to start?

First of all, did you know that when choosing women to date, men look almost exclusively at appearance? It's true! Let me tell you, I was shocked. Researchers from Indiana University who studied speed daters in Germany found that while women considered such things as wealth and status, commitment to family, good health and, yes, physical appearance, men kept it simple and concentrated on physical appearance. I'm guessing that by "physical appearance" they meant "breast size."

To be fair, women were looking at attractiveness, too. Interestingly, even though they said they were looking at numerous traits, the men they picked tended to match their own self-assessed level of attractiveness. Coincidence? The researchers think not; their report speculates that women know what they can get and aim for men who are about as attractive as themselves. They don't "overshoot" by picking men who are more attractive because a gorgeous man might run off with someone hotter.

This is called "the Jennifer Aniston Principle."

Personally, I think women hesitate to choose men more attractive than themselves because they hate to have to share the bathroom mirror.

Men have always been open about their tendency to rate women by appearance; in fact, I've always hated it when a man would say that a particular woman was "out of his league." Of course, this means that beautiful women will most often get asked out by men who think of themselves as outrageously attractive. Ever date a man like that? Ever want to again?

So the man and the woman are both thinking about relative hotness, but at different levels of awareness and for different reasons. The woman is thinking long term: would he stick around?? The man is thinking in the moment: can I get her to go out with me and sleep with me on this date??

Sometimes I think it's amazing that most of us remain heterosexual.

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It gets worse. Did you know that women are pickier about whom they'll kiss than men are? (I know, another shocker.) A New York State University team surveyed over 1,000 students and learned that women use kissing as a way to assess a man as a potential partner and increase bonding, then later to maintain intimacy and check the status of the relationship. Men, on the other hand, kiss to increase the likelihood of sex, and they're willing to have sex with someone whom they don't find attractive or think is a bad kisser or whom they haven't even kissed at all.

Especially at closing time, after many beers.

It seems that men are driven to have sex with virtually anyone, even someone they would never kiss! Of course, there are women with this attitude; they are called "hookers."

And, to think, women agonize over what flavor of lip gloss to wear.

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Here's another study about men, sex and age that'll make you cringe: Researchers at Stanford University believe that humans live as long as we do because of horny old men. They say that generally, living beings die soon after their reproductive stage ends, but human males are able to continue reproducing long past the age at which females go through menopause. Because men in their 70s are still able to impregnate younger women, and often do, humans have evolved to live well past the age at which women lose their fertility. The implication: we women should be grateful!

The researchers stopped short of saying that post-menopausal women had no real reason to keep on living. Perhaps there are reasons for non-fertile women to exist: for example, to care for the grandchildren if their own daughters run off to live with Hugh Hefner.

Just think, now that we have Viagra, soon we'll all be living for 300 years.

I'm wondering if evolution is perhaps lengthening the time of a woman's fertility as well. I recently heard of a record-setting birth that took place when the woman was 59. The conception was completely natural; she'd taken no fertility treatments. It only makes sense that, as human lifespan increases, the span of fertility will increase as well.

But men will still be chasing 18-year-olds.

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Okay, I've bashed men enough for one day. Though you might not be able to tell so far, this blog is actually for both women and men as we all deal with issues relating to age and attractiveness.

So let's talk about something men typically face with either resignation or blinding fear. That's right: baldness! Humorist Matt Wixon (mwixon@dallasnews.com) has a column about his hair, or lack thereof, in the September 3 issue of The Dallas Morning News. It was inspired by the fact that after using the same photo in the paper for six years, he now has a current one -- one that shows him with a different shirt and, by the way, with decidedly less hair. Wixon's column, besides being really funny, testifies to the pressure men as well as women face to keep looking young and, uh, beautiful.

I love his speculation about where his hair went, especially that a bird might have picked up some of it and used it in a nest. (Birds love our hair; some of my pet parrots like to gently preen and "style" my long locks, while others don't know their own strength and can end up snipping off a strand!) Perhaps his hair is just trapped inside a vacuum cleaner bag, he writes, but maybe it's in an exotic part of the world.

I'm reminded of what Charlie Brown says of Pig Pen's dirt in "A Charlie Brown Christmas": "Think of it as maybe the soil from some great past civilization. Maybe the soil of Ancient Babylon. It staggers the imagination..."

"I'm OK with balding," Wixon continues. "It was a difficult adjustment, however. How could it not be? Our superficial culture values appearance, especially youthful appearance, over just about everything. There is no "aging gracefully" anymore. Nips, tucks and facelifts are the way to go, even if some people eventually look like an off-brand knockoff of a human."

He describes a commercial for Rogaine that ran a few years ago (I never saw this one!): "A man steps up to the camera and, with his wife or girlfriend in the background, asks, 'Will she still feel the same way if I lose my hair?' 'Sure,' he answers to himself. 'She'll just feel it about somebody else.'

"Classic!" Wixon remarks. "I'm not sure if that's more demeaning to men or women."

What a great comment. I swear to God I did not ghostwrite his column. And this is coming from a man. I've got to get a tape to him of my song parody "My Man"; it's about the way women still love their men as they (the men) grow bald and flabby -- at least when they don't resort to those ridiculous combovers.

In spite of that ad campaign, Wixon did try Rogaine, but he stopped using it; it's for mild-to-moderate balding, not Yul-Brynner-style balding. Plus, you have to use it all the time or the hair just falls out. "It's like you're paying protection money to a neighborhood thug," he says. LOVE IT!

Wixon also had to consider that his self-assessment of attractiveness (see today's previous stories) was not high, with or without hair. "It's not as though lack of hair was the only element keeping me from being stunningly handsome," he says.

The picture in the paper is small and didn't print sharply, but I think he looks good. I can't see the very top of his head, though; the photo cuts it off.

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Finally, a sad note about a very funny and talented lady who sang cabaret in Manhattan. Dottie Burman, who wrote and performed humorous songs and also worked as a motivational speaker, helping people get past the "age thing" to do what they wanted at any stage of life, has died. I only just found out, though she died last November.

Dottie was a late bloomer herself. She seems never to have considered her age an obstacle. More of a personality than a trained singer, she nevertheless graced some of Manhattan's most well-known cabaret venues with hilarious songs such as “Age Discrimination,” “Let’s Have A P.C. Holiday” and "When The Palm Trees Grow In Central Park," about the bright side of global warming.

Though we had never met in person, we were mutual fans via phone and e-mail, and I had hoped to visit her the next time I was in New York. She wanted to take me around to her favorite cabaret open mic nights and have me sing for her friends there. But it is not to be.

At least I can remember her by her wonderful songs. Her website is still up, and it's still possible to see some of her performances, read her lyrics - perhaps even to order some CDs.



Sept. 3, 2007

Did you know that, in Boston, it takes on average just 13 days to get in to see the dermatologist for Botox injections, but to get a worrisome mole examined, you'll wait - gasp - NINE WEEKS??

A study by a UC-San Francisco dermatology professor found that in the US, it takes a patient an average of about 26 days to have an appointment with a dermatologist to examine a possibly cancerous mole, yet only eight days for an appointment for Botox injections.

Now, the way I'm thinking, spending up to nine weeks worrying about your mole is going to give you big-time forehead lines, so you could always make the Botox appointment, just to get in. Then, if you're like me and prefer to let your eyebrows roam free, you can feign squeamishness at the sight of the needle (maybe you won't have to feign!) and "change your mind" at the last minute. On your way out the door, you can say, "As long as I'm here, doctor, I've got this mole that really needs to be checked...."

This tactic will work only once -- at least with that doctor -- but it's worth a try. Of course, you could always just think of your possibly cancerous mole as a beauty mark and keep it as long as possible.

The researcher didn't know why Botox patients got preference but speculated that it was because of the higher relative payments for Botox. It's a huge profit center for clinics. My dermatologist told me she's had patients come in for thousands of dollars worth of Botox and other cosmetic treatments in just one session, yet I know from personal experience that the mole screening is just the cost of an office visit, with other payment going to the lab.

And I was surprised when they didn't just say, "Come in tomorrow," when I said I had a suspicious mole. Melanoma is serious business; an acquaintance of mine died of it a couple of years ago, and it's possible to get it at a very young age. I have that pale-pale skin that's highly susceptible, and the small, rough patch was on a part of my body that had suffered a severe sunburn during those carefree (read "stupid") college days. But the receptionist wanted to set up the appointment for about five weeks later. "Wow, is there any way I can get in sooner?" I asked. "We do have a nurse practitioner on staff," she replied, "and she's available this Friday. Would you like to come in then?"

That's what I chose to do, and I did end up seeing the doctor briefly; she came in and also checked out the mole. It did turn out to be cancer, but not melanoma. Basal cell carcinoma doesn't metastasize into surrounding tissue, so it wouldn't have killed me, but it did need to be removed before it got bigger to keep it from disfiguring my gorgeous bod.

There's one other reason why it might take longer for a medical exam. Many dermatologists' offices set aside certain days of the week for cosmetic procedures, because so much of their business is for Botox and the like, so all other appointments are made for the days that are left. A dermatologist will always advise that, once a year, you make a routine appointment to have every square inch of your glorious body checked for suspicious moles.

That sounds like a good idea. As for Botox, if you're in Beverly Hills, you can call 911 and a team of dermatologists will rush over in an ambulance to administer it.

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As long as we're on the subject of cancer, there's a story I just read in the Wall Street Journal that needs to be mentioned here, if only because it illustrates so well my beliefs that "life doesn't happen on a timetable" and that one's numerical age means next to nothing.

Chef Grant Achatz, whose restaurant Alinea was named the best in the country in 2005 by Gourmet magazine, has recently been given a devastating diagnosis: stage 4 cancer of the tongue. With his cancer so far advanced, he's been told by three doctors that the only way he can possibly survive is to have part of his tongue cut out. Imagine being one of the world's most celebrated and creative chefs and having to anticipate life without the ability to taste.

Achatz is 33 years old.

"Well," you may say, after the initial shock, "he's probably spent years smoking!" Achatz, who's described as "skinny and boyish," says he's never had a cigarette in his mouth in his life. Knowing the damage smoking can do to the sense of taste, you believe him.

Not surprisingly, Achatz has been looking for alternative treatments that might let him keep his tongue along with his life. He'll soon begin an intensive combination of chemotherapy and radiation treatments; these may dull his sense of taste slightly as they destroy cancer cells, but not ruin them permanently. His doctor says the sense of taste will slowly return after treatment.

Achatz could end up losing his tongue after all, and, of course, he could die. When I look in the obituaries, I see people of all ages there. This is why I think concepts such as "middle age" are essentially pointless. A twenty-year-old who laughs at "middle-aged" people may be middle-aged himself, and just not know it.

Those who know Achatz are confident that with his talent, he'll go on with or without his tongue. So much of what he does comes from his deep well of visual artistry and conceptual genius. "You could take out his tongue and eyes," says Nick Kokonas, his partner in Alinea. "I can't imagine that he wouldn't be able to overcome any limitations."

May good health come to Grant Achatz. And remember, whatever decade you're in, taste life while you can.



Sept. 1, 2007

Wednesday, I was able to attend the Asian Film Festival here in Dallas and see Regina Park’s excellent new documentary, Never Perfect, about the quest by Asian women to achieve their beauty ideal, particularly by having their features changed surgically.

But what is “ideal”? Can one ever really attain it? And just how Asian is it, as opposed to European? These are the central questions of Never Perfect.

The film introduces us to a young woman of Vietnamese heritage, the baby of the family, still living with her mom in a house that she herself owns – she’s successful at an early age and also owns a number of rental properties -- as she eagerly anticipates moving to Los Angeles and being on her own. Mom is nonplussed, but her daughter wants something new! A new city, she says. And along with her big life change, she has finally decided to get “bigger eyes.” This is something she’s thought about for a long time.

One of the first things I notice about her, aside from her strained relationship with mom, is that she’s had her dark hair highlighted with thick, blond streaks.

It turns out that she has grown up with messages from her mother that she’s not attractive with her Asian eyes, the heavy-lidded kind that don’t have a crease. They look too small. Most of the images she sees in TV and movies show women with more European-looking eyes, and most of her friends have them, too. Eyelid surgery seems almost a rite of passage for them. (The movie doesn’t point this out, but non-Asian girls have these rites too – think rhinoplasty in Beverly Hills and breast augmentation in Dallas.)

Commentary within the film addresses the belief that certain features go along with a particular personality. I suspect that, subconsciously, most of us share this belief to some degree. That’s right, deep within us is some stupid little part of the brain that actually thinks people with weak chins are weak-willed, those with close-set eyes are dishonest, and those with high foreheads are smart. Character flaws are revealed to us through physical flaws. This belief is a holdover from the Middle Ages. If you don’t think it’s still in force, talk with a casting director about it. (I’m always pleased when a casting director “casts against type.”)

So what do almond-shaped, Asian eyes mean? Young girls grow up seeing them as part of an “Asian mystique,” with highly sexualized depictions of Eastern women. Some of the images depict mysterious, stiletto-heeled sexual dynamos, the kind James Bond would take to bed and say “don’t taste like European girls”; others show delicate, traditional “China dolls” who are soft-spoken and submissive to men.

(An aside: I may have unintentionally played into this sexual stereotype in my first blog about this movie; I mentioned that many Western men prefer the look of Asian women to that of European women. I meant this as a good thing, to show that Westerners are open to different standards of beauty. After seeing the film, though, I wonder whether the preferences of those men are primarily a response to the hypersexualized and/or submissive stereotypes of Asian girls.)

The movie doesn’t mention this, but I should point out that the preference for larger, more open eyes may indeed be hard-wired into all of us, and it seems to transcend race. Studies have shown that open eyes are considered more attractive; researchers speculate that this is because they make it easier to see the pupils. Large pupils are interpreted as a sign of attraction.

According to the movie, the first article about the operation called “double eyelid surgery” was published in – surprise -- 1896. It grew in popularity when America put military bases in the Pacific; red light districts grew up around the bases, and the women who were considered most attractive to American G.I.s got the most work and made more money. In the 1950s, during the Korean War, plastic surgeons actually did free work for the prostitutes, though I’m speculating that there was more of a barter system in force.

The film points out that Asian eyes aren’t really slanted; that’s a bizarre stereotype. During times of war, “Japs” were categorized as subhuman and caricatured mercilessly, including those slanted eyes.

Of course, today, actresses such as Sandra Oh portray smart, accomplished women, albeit with some serious psychological issues in the case of her character on Grey’s Anatomy but without the relentless sexual overtones. That’s a big step forward. Still, I wonder if the brilliant, hard-driven, antisocial doctor exemplifies yet a different stereotype of the Asian woman.

There’s also a discussion in the film of mixed-race beauty. One young woman says she’s had the message, “Mixed girls are HOT!” An increasingly popular opinion among Asian girls is that the ideal of beauty is a racial composite.

In an extremely moving scene – and the one that will linger with me the longest -- the camera stays in close-up on an Asian mom, relating sadly that her “mixed” daughter has made it clear that she rejects the “yellow” side of her genetic heritage. Tears finally come as she realizes her daughter is rejecting her.

Back to our main character, and more mom issues. “I love my mom more than anyone else in the world,” she says, “but she’s done a lot of damage to me.” She says she’s fed up with her mom’s expectation that everything must be perfect. As for changing the appearance of her eyes, she says, “This is what I was cultivated to believe.”

Our main character has put off getting her eyelid surgery because she didn’t want to let her mom think she “got to her,” but finally she goes, and part of the operation is shown onscreen. There aren’t rivers of blood or anything, but it’s still the eye, and this is definitely not for the squeamish. The patient is thoroughly medicated and feels nothing, or else there would be a lot of screaming, but come on, it’s THE EYE.

A surgeon tells us that there are different surgeries for different ethnic looks; Taiwan, Japan, etc., are different. Apparently, some ethnicities can get away with doing a larger, more open eye than others. He says you don’t have to lose your ethnic identity – that you’re not creating a non-Asian eye but a more beautiful eye. This relates to another comment made later in the film: “It’s not taking away ethnicity – we’re emulating other Asians.”

Several sets of “before” and “after” pictures are shown; I notice that the “after” eyes don’t look much different but appear to be wearing false lashes. (I wonder if applying false lashes to the heavier-lidded eye would be painstaking if not impossible.) Overall, the change is very subtle, sometimes so slight that an ignorant Westerner might wonder what all the fuss is about.

I worry a little about our patient when she says things such as “It’ll temporarily make me happier” and “My taste in beauty may change.” She does understand that, unlike breast implants, this alteration is something that can’t be undone. But what if she decides in a few months or years that she’s not as happy as she had wanted to be; will she need to have something else done in her quest for perfection? She observes, “You can always be unhappy no matter how perfect things are.” But what is “perfect,” and where does it end? For some women, this can be the start of plastic surgery addiction.

Fortunately, we learn that (so far) she has had no more surgeries. She examines her eyes in a hand mirror; again, the effect is very subtle. She laughs, “I saw my mom, and she said, ‘You should’ve gotten them bigger!’”

On the way out of the theater, I overheard an Asian woman tell her friend, “My mom used to pinch my nose like this and tell me it needed to be smaller.”

Dear mothers, whatever your race, if you are reading this, please realize that your attitudes about attractiveness will affect your daughter’s self-image for the rest of her life. She listens to everything you say. She’ll carry those messages about her nose and her weight and her lips forever. (It can happen with sons, too; Michael Jackson’s father used to call him “Big Nose,” and we’ve seen where that led!) Maybe you’re uncomfortable with your daughter’s eyes or her ankles because they remind you of your awful ex-husband; if so, KEEP IT TO YOURSELF.

Your daughter could react to your comments by developing an eating disorder, or finding a man who reinforces her poor opinion of herself, or simply distancing herself from you, as the young woman in this film did with her own mom. Please find ways to help your daughter feel positive about her looks.

I still feel a rush of sadness when I remember how my mom, who died four years ago, used to criticize my long fingers and long legs. “Don’t talk with your hands,” she’d admonish, or she’d just give me "The Look" when I’d start gesturing. “Don’t take such big steps.” The message was clear; she thought I was too tall. “Your sister is the perfect height,” she once said of my 5-foot-7-inch sibling. She also said my face was thin and that I needed to gain weight in my face. How was I supposed to gain weight in my face? How was I supposed to subtract height?

Fortunately, I was able to keep in mind that this was the same mom who told me not to raise my hand in algebra class so often if I wanted boys to like me. So I stand tall and wear high heels. And, yes, I love my mom…but I still talk with my hands.




August 30, 2007

When I was a very little girl, just trying to figure things out, I developed numerous misconceptions about the way the world works. Here are just a few of them:

For some reason, I thought wars lasted about four years, and then whoever was “ahead” was declared the winner.

I thought that once a woman was married and had sex one time, her body went through some sort of transformation that made her capable of – surprise ! -- automatically becoming pregnant at any moment. (Whew! Glad that one wasn’t true.)

I thought that old people made grammatical errors as part of a kind of “old person’s accent.” In other words, that was just the way old people talked. (This must have been because we lived in a semi-rural area with lots of older people who hadn’t had much education.)

And I thought that the husband was always older than the wife, usually by one or two years. (After all, my daddy was about 1 ½ years older than my mommy.)

On that last one, I turned out to be almost right! The typical husband is indeed older than the wife, though there can be much more of an age difference than my parents had. Ashton and Demi aside, why is it that most unions happen to fall into this pattern? Why are most variations regarded with curiosity?

Researchers at Vienna University were wondering the same thing, and now they say that men have evolved to seek younger women to maximize their chances of reproducing, while women seek slightly older men.

In examining people who had changed partners after having their first child, they found that women looked for men with more resources and status, so they chose someone a little older than themselves. Men picked someone younger than their first partner. (Really???)  Researchers also found that a couple were most likely to have a greater number of children if the man was about six years older than the woman. Their conclusion: the age difference is a trait acquired through evolution by both men and women to help create more children.

Question: how come so many men will say that their ideal woman looks 18 and is on the pill?

Men seem to have a curious dichotomy between what their evolution-programmed loins tell them and what their conscious minds do. (We could have a discussion right now about the special gift many men have of compartmentalizing EVERYTHING IN THEIR LIVES, but I’ll save that for a future rant.) Here are their loins, whispering to the men, “We must make babies…we must make babies…as many babies as possible…” (Men also tend to quantify everything, don’t they?) And, except in the case of rap musicians, here also are their conscious minds, warning, “We must not make babies…no babies…too much commitment…too much child support…”

You’d think that, consciously, the man would be on the prowl for an attractive babe who’s coming to the end of her childbearing years. But the loins still win out. This is why humans – with the possible exception of the Europeans and Japanese -- are still being fruitful and multiplying even though the world’s population is over 5 billion and counting! It also explains the staggering backlog of child support cases.

On the other hand, loins can be fooled. The right sexy clothes and strategically-designed lingerie can enhance a woman’s curves and help create the bountiful breasts and youthful proportions that suggest fertility. If the breasts still aren’t bountiful, a plastic surgeon can transform them, and virtually everything else, to suggest that this woman is a genetically-perfect baby machine. Everything from body lotions to hair thickeners to lip plumpers is designed to create the lusciousness associated with a young, fertile hottie.

Thus, the loins are satisfied. Still, the conscious mind, completely at odds with the loins but helpless to oppose them, always makes sure the man is carrying condoms.

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The other day, I wrote about the pressure on Asian girls to have their eyes “westernized” through plastic surgery. Well, last night I saw “Never Perfect,” the documentary about a woman who must decide whether “to crease or not to crease.” I hope you’ll look for my commentary in tomorrow’s blog!



August 29, 2007

As we hear over and over in the news every day, the baby boomers are "AGING."  Here's the Aging Baby Boomer Story Of The Day:

Orthopedic surgeons in New York report that they are seeing a growing number of baby boomers who suffer such severe knee pain and other discomforts that they can't even walk up stairs any more. (Related Aging Baby Boomer Story: the trend towards all-on-one-floor living.)

The arthritic finger points to one person: Jane Fonda! Whether you're a flower child who admired her anti-war protests during Vietnam or a patriot who condemned her for them, Jane has brought you all together in communal misery. She is to blame for your creaky joints and limited range of motion.

As the reasoning goes, those wildly popular aerobics videos she made in the '80s caused people to plunge into high-impact exercise, pounding their joints on three-tiered steps. (Of course, today, we know better; we pound our joints on treadmills.) Some of today's sore, arthritic baby boomers have blamed Jane for their pain, although I'm thinking it might just be related to a lack of circulation caused by too-tight leg warmers.

I wonder if their knees hurt more when it rains. Of course, even if the weather is a factor, sufferers will still insist that the pain in rain is mainly caused by Jane.

Jane herself might tell you that those videos were too extreme. She has said that at the time she made them, she was suffering from an eating disorder; it appears she had what we might call an "exercise addiction" as well. Over the years, she's softened her look considerably.

Of course, Jane can say from personal experience that it's easier on the knees to just sit on the turret of a communist anti-aircraft gun, yet even that can cause strain in the lower back.

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This story appears just as more studies tell us that people of all ages are getting fatter and fatter and will eventually pop after finally eating one too many chicken wings. Mississippi - ironically, the home of the most beauty pageant winners - is the fattest state of all. Hardly anyone seems capable of pushing away from the table any more, let alone exercising. What on earth happened to change "Let's Get Physical" to "Let's Get Liposuction"? When did "lean and mean" become "gross and adipose"?

It seems that this problem will only get worse until people can't get through their front doors to go get more food. Of course, there's always delivery. But when even the Dominos drivers are no longer able to fit into their cars, obesity will be halted in its tracks.

By the way, the State Fair Of Texas opens in a few weeks - I happen to live in Dallas, home of the fair - and the news is full of all the deep fried fattiness that's going to be served up. Here are this year's Seven Deadly Sins: fried Frito pie, fried guacamole, fried peach cobbler on a stick, fried sweet potato pie, fried banana pudding, fried cookie dough, and the most talked about, the deep fried latte. This is a fried pastry topped with cappuccino ice cream, caramel sauce, whipped cream and instant coffee powder.

Of course, the deep fried latte is at its best when served with a donut.

To my relief, my husband has said he won't be eating this overpriced glob of sugar, fat and fried gunk at the fair. But only because he doesn't like coffee.

Great news for everyone who eats it: the oil it's fried in is TRANS-FAT FREE!

Coincidentally, today's "Oprah" featured her favorite physician, Dr. Oz, talking about how to eat healthy. He first looked at portion control, comparing today's typical serving sizes with those from 20 years ago. No wonder our clothes are straining at the seams! We're used to seeing supersized food, and if, as our moms used to say, our eyes are bigger than our stomachs, we solve that problem by gradually stretching our stomachs.

Dr. Oz then looked at the bad ingredients in processed foods: sugar, trans-fats (hydrogenated oils), high fructose corn syrup, enriched products (this means they've been refined), and saturated fats "from four-legged animals." He cleaned out one woman's fridge and pantry, taught her how to read a nutrition label and put her on a "diet makeover" that dramatically changed her appearance, health and outlook. Dr. Oz's regimen was similar to Dr. Perricone's; he had this woman throwing out her "fake," sugary, artery-clogging processed foods and eating salmon, olive oil and fresh vegetables instead. After a few months on this program, she seemed like a different - and much happier -- person.

(This might be a good time to mention that taking fish oil often works wonders on those joints ravaged by Jane Fonda's exercise routines.)

You may wonder why I'm spending so much time talking about weight; isn't this blog about age and looking young? Yes, but when I say that "age is the last big culturally-acceptable bias," I'm talking about the age one is and the age one looks.  We associate a slim, healthy body with youth. With few exceptions, a woman who carries extra weight is judged to be considerably older than she would if she were slender and fit. She's dubbed "matronly" and placed in the same category with women who have wrinkles or gray hair. (Of course, it's also possible to go too far the other way; the starving, sinewy, anorexic look - think Victoria Beckham - is unhealthy, unflattering and extremely aging.) Yes, the overall issue here is age and ageism, but I consider age, beauty and weight to be just different sides of the same three-sided coin.

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Well, enough on that weighty subject. Here's still more on "aging rockers."

According to the Reuters news service, German music fans are being subjected this year to a deluge of older acts from America: Aerosmith, Genesis, The Stones, The Who, Black Sabbath, Lou Reed, Meat Loaf, the Police, and more. Critics admit that some are still making good music but say that others should give it up and retire. They say Peter Gabriel needed a TelePrompter to remember the words to his own songs, and one critic complains that Ozzy Osbourne kept screaming, "I can't (bleeping) hear you!" over and over. He writes, "You felt like shouting back, 'Buy a (bleep) hearing aid, and maybe you'll realize you're singing everything off-key!"

Of course, younger singers don't sing off-key; the tracks they lip-synch to are always perfectly in tune. And you know, that critic wasn't being fair; Ozzy couldn't hear the audience not because his ears are shot but because there wasn't one.

Fans were especially upset that Steven Tyler of Aerosmith had lost his boyish good looks.



August 28, 2007


No long essays today, just two silly news items and a video from my show, "My Ship Has Sailed."

First up, a team of obviously very lonely mathematicians at Cambridge University determined that Jessica Alba has the perfect sexy wiggle when she walks.

They claim they calculated that what makes a woman sway when she walks is the ratio of hips to waist size, and the perfect ratio for a sexy walk is 0.7. (This just gets more and more scientific as it goes along.) That would be, for instance, 36 inch hips and a 25 inch waist. Marilyn Monroe was very close with a 0.69 ratio, but after a no-doubt intensive study of photos of Jessica Alba on the Internet, the mathematicians said Alba is a perfect 0.7.

Okay, so explain Beyonce.

I have a feeling there is much more to learn in this vital field of study, such as the impact on the walk caused by the length of the legs or the height of the stiletto heels; but that would require advanced calculus and possibly quantum mechanics, so they'll need a few more years to work on it.

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Meanwhile, researchers at the University of Wisconsin-Madison found that Viagra not only improves a man's sexual performance, it can also boost levels of oxytocin, the so-called "cuddle chemical" produced by the brain that promotes bonding and romantic feelings. They say this means Viagra not only can help men get erections but also make them more loving.

This must be why gobbling all that Viagra has made Hugh Hefner stop sleeping with five girlfriends and bond to only three. And they're all virtually identical, so it's practically like he's monogamous!

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Finally, speaking of all the ways that science has enhanced our attractiveness, I thought I'd share this with you so newcomers can learn what I'm all about. It's a clip from one of my live performances of "My Ship Has Sailed," a song I wrote that marries a popular melody to the names of some of the many, many anti-aging products that promise us the glow of eternal youth.  Enjoy!








August 25, 2007

If ageism is so much a part of our culture that it simply doesn't seem all that bad, check out a few nightclub reviews and see how they hit you. These reviews, in addition to rating the quality of the sound system, the strength of the drinks and the general vibe, typically go on to describe the clientele in terms of looks, fashion sense and, of course, age. This is necessary so that people can be with others at the same level of coolness. If a club "skews old," it's automatically less hip. In fact, its hipness rating varies inversely with the average age of the patrons - the lower the age, the higher the rating.

I've just learned that this attitude may be primarily an American phenomenon. The following excerpt from a review by Lesley Tellez of a downtown Dallas club called the Mambo Café speaks volumes:

"This isn't strictly a young person's club - we saw patrons who looked like they could be 60. That's common in Latin cultures..."

See, it has to be explained to us that in some places, older people actually go dancing in nightclubs patronized by younger people! Who woulda thunk it? Normally, we just wouldn't expect to see that. We're talking about one o'clock in the morning here, and it's common knowledge that everybody over about 35 is asleep by nine. Strange, those Latinos! If you're a non-Latino in your 20s, and you're uncomfortable with seeing 60-year-old couples dancing, you've been duly warned.

I've experienced a little of this prejudice myself as a performer in nightclubs, not towards myself, but towards some of the older members of my audience. Of course, my philosophy is to do a show that's enjoyed by people of all ages, especially women, but one club manager told me she hoped My Ship Has Sailed wouldn't "skew too old." She explained that most of their acts draw a younger crowd, and older people - particularly older women - don't drink. (The bar is their main source of revenue.) I'm not sure where she got this notion; maybe she hasn't shared a Happy Hour with some of the "older" women I know, but that was her perception.

And, wouldn't you know, that particular night's performance was attended by a huge crowd of Red Hats. They were a fantastic audience, but the manager had to notice that they brought the average age up considerably. She told me afterwards that most of them ordered iced tea.

The rest asked for water.

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Let's move on to another cultural issue, this one involving Asian women.

The Asian Film Festival, going on in Dallas from the 23rd to the 30th of August, features the premiere (Wed., 7:30, Magnolia Theatre) of a documentary by Regina Park called "Never Perfect," which examines the struggle of a young Vietnamese woman as she decides whether or not to get blepharoplasty, or eyelid plastic surgery.

This apparently is a huge issue for Asian girls, but one that hasn't often been discussed. After the screening, a panel discussion will be held on "beauty and the Asian woman." According to Ms. Park, "there is a question why more and more women subject themselves to time-consuming, expensive and sometimes painful processes in their quest for physical perfection. Yet this constant striving to reach a beauty ideal to accompany their other academic, career, material and personal achievements is steeped in a profoundly fundamental question of identity and is not simply a matter of an individual's personal aesthetic choice."

The film's main character has been told by her mother that she can't be beautiful without bigger eyes. How very sad. (I do think that, even within their wider culture, the biggest message girls around the world get about their own attractiveness is from their mothers.) This girl has grown up in the United States, with the American image of beauty all around her, but she also is proud of her Vietnamese heritage. What to do?

I don't know what she decides, but I'll try to get to the screening - and the discussion - next Wednesday to find out.

The ironic thing, to me, is that I think the "Asian" eye is exotic and lovely. Many, many Western people agree. I know men who think a petite Asian woman with almond eyes and straight, black hair is more beautiful than a tall, blue-eyed American blonde. An Asian woman, even here in America, does not have to have 'the crease" to be considered beautiful. This is something that has become an issue within the Asian community.

The other irony, as a personal note: my grandmother on my father's side had eyelids without creases; she was of German descent and my mom called it "the Germanic eye." My dad's eyelids were a little puffy, too; as he got older, he probably could have benefited from very conservative eyelid surgery, just to see better. When I was a kid, I thought maybe I'd grow up to have "the Germanic eye," too, and I really didn't want it, not because it isn't pretty - it certainly can be; consider Ava Gardner - but mostly because I just didn't want to mimic that particular grandmother in any way (long story). As luck would have it, though, my eyes developed such well-defined lids and such a deep crease that the other day, a makeup artist highlighted the crease to de-emphasize it.

It seemed I had too much crease.

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Finally, here's a cool item from the news....

Mike Flynt got into a fight and was kicked off the football team of Sul Ross State University in Alpine, Texas, before his senior year in 1971. He's regretted it ever since, even as he became a strength and conditioning coach and invented the Powerbase training system. He's now 59, in great shape (I can vouch for strength training as being one of the best age-fighting methods), and he's convinced his wife to move back to Alpine, where he is about to become the oldest college football player on record.

Former teammates told him he's an idiot and will get killed, and his wife said she feels like she's married to Peter Pan (that can be creepy; ask Lisa Marie Presley). But Flynt, a man after my own heart, believes that age is just a number. He has a surprisingly tight end, and unlike many men his age, is not an extremely wide receiver. He said he wants to show others that with the right physical training, you're only as old as you feel.

Until you get killed.

Anyway, I say three cheers for Mike Flynt! Let's all hope he isn't sacked by a bunch of 300-pound 20-year-olds, which can make you feel about 110.



August 24, 2007

Okay, so many of us are playing "the numbers game." We think, "I'm 43, but if I use this product and do this and this and dress like this, I can pass for 38." Of course, the 38-year-old is thinking, "I'm 38, but I can pass for 29." Those of you who are single take this strategy into the dating arena.

But what about online dating? What if a prospective date isn't looking at you in person, but only in a digitized photo, which can be enhanced in any number of ways? Do you go ahead and give your correct age, or do you fudge it?

A recent article in the New York Post (sorry, can’t find it online) addresses the issue of age and online dating. Stacy Kravetz, author of The Dating Race: An Undercover Report from the Front Lines of Modern-Day Romance, explains why age is even more important in the online world:

"Online dating only magnifies the issue, because we're given the option of pre-selecting for all the characteristics we find important, including age. And we get all this information about a potential date before we've even decided whether to meet them. So age becomes even more important, because we're using it as a criterion before a date, rather than a piece of information we learn on the date itself."

It seems to me that, in a way, online dating is similar to the idea of "designer babies." Chances are overwhelming that once her baby is born, a mother is going to love that baby exactly the same whether it has dark hair, red hair or blond. But if she has the chance to pre-select her baby's hair color, she most likely will choose blond hair...along with big blue eyes, fair skin and a tall, slender build. People looking for a mate do the same thing with characteristics such as age.

In the old-fashioned, face-to-face world, youthfulness will definitely be assessed, but there's at least a chance for something to "click" -- maybe it's pheromones, or a quick sense of humor -- and for the couple to start getting to know each other before the question, "How old are you?" is asked.

So, online dating is very different from the other kind. The New York Post article asks several online daters how they cope with the age issue. For example, when asked how many years she shaves off her age, 38-year-old Cozette says this:

"I delete four years. It's closer to the age most people guess I am, and it's closer to the age I feel."

Interestingly, she goes on to say, "When I posted my real age, I didn't get any emails for the first two months. Not one. So I changed it to 34 and within days I had literally hundreds of responses. So far, no one has ever questioned it."

We learn from this that 34 is okay, but that 38 is too old, even though a 38-year-old is dating people who are fine with her just as she is, as long as they think she's 34. Four little years can apparently be a very big deal.

Debbie, 53, answers, "I say I'm 47 because that's around the age I'm looking for in a date. I've had a lot more emails since I adjusted my age. Now people I'm interested in - and the ones who are interested in me - are actually finding me."

Has she considered that many of the men who find her are also 53 but passing for 47? Does she realize that when she says, "That's around the age I'm looking for in a date," she's doing the same thing the men are? Is the meaninglessness of "the number" starting to sink in?

Fifty-year-old Pamela reduces her age by three years. "We all discount our ages - you have to since people are using age ranges as part of their search criteria. If you're fit, attractive and hoping to meet the same, you have to lower your age."

I can understand why she doesn't want to say she's 50. We can talk all we want about 50 being "the new 30," but that's only true if you pass for 30. One 50-year-old single friend of mine told me she sits with her dates over coffee and watches the expression in their eyes change when she tells them she's 50. These are men her own age and up. It seems to be something about the sound of the word, and the weight people give to it when they say it. I'm reminded of Molly Shannon's horrifying comedy sketch on "Saturday Night Live," in which she plays the frazzled, potbellied lady in the red jumpsuit who screams, "I'M FIFTY YEARS OLD! FIFTY! FIFTY YEARS OLD!"
 
Rita Rudner told me she's writing a book about turning 50 called "I'm Filthy," which is as close as she can come to saying the word. And I've heard from many women that once people know you're 50, it's all about how old you are. If you look great, you look great "for 50" or "for someone your age."

If you're proud of your age and want to tell it, fine. I'm proud of mine, but I still don't tell it, simply because I refuse to play along with the stupid "numbers game." (Hey, I'm proud of my fabulous bod, too, but I don't walk down the street naked.) In fact, I've come to believe that when a woman insists on telling you her age within thirty seconds of meeting her, it's for one of two reasons. Either she looks considerably older than she really is and doesn't want you to think she's that old, or she looks considerably younger than most women her age and is fishing for compliments. It also suggests to me that she's been reading too many issues of More magazine and is absolutely obsessed with the whole age thing.

As the model in a current commercial for Roc skin products says, "When you look ten years younger than you are, you're proud to tell your age." How confused a message is that??

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And now, a little something from the news: 

Dawn Brooke of Guernsey, England, set a new world record by giving birth to a son at 59, becoming the oldest known natural mother who got pregnant without fertility treatment or any drugs (does that include Viagra?) Brooke gave birth in 1997, and her son is now 10, but she and her husband Raymond kept it quiet until now to shield him from publicity. Raymond, who was 64 when his wife got pregnant at 59, said they're overjoyed to have their son, but the pregnancy was unplanned and came as a shock to them both.  And, I'll bet, to their grandchildren.

This is all very heartwarming, but we all know it’s just not natural for men in their 60s to be impregnating women in their 50s. According to all the showbiz news outlets, men in their 60s are supposed to be impregnating women in their 20s.



August 23, 2007

As promised, all my "Age of Love" recaps are now on one page, in order.  Pour a stiff drink and click away.  

And if you'd like to add your two cents, you can now put comments on my mirror blog site at LauraAinsworth.blogspot.com...



August 22, 2007

NOT MUCH HAS CHANGED IN THREE CENTURIES

I wonder if there's anyone reading this who has not yet started receiving those catalogs -- obviously targeted to women 35-plus -- with names like "Time For Me," "My Time" and "It's Long Past Time To Take A Little Time For Myself, Dammit!"

They feature dreamy bedding, exotic caftans and novel accessories. They also hawk a numbing array of anti-aging treatments, with ridiculously unlikely before-and-after pictures of eyes, lips and jawlines; a variety of Spandex figure-tamers; easy-fitting shoes and padded shoe inserts; lacy incontinence briefs (these do look pretty sexy!); and even some very creative and colorful vibrators.

The message: you're getting older by the minute, every square inch of your face and neck needs serious and targeted help, your body's starting to fall apart, you have a bladder control problem, and you're probably alone.

I've seen some comforter sets and a few long, imported skirts that were really pretty, but I have to wonder: if I actually order anything from one of these catalogs, what other mailing lists will I be put on? Even now, for some reason, I'm on the mailing list for the Lane Bryant catalog, when I'm so skinny that friends are always trying to feed me. I called and asked them to remove me from the list, and they said they would, but they never did, so I just keep tossing it in the trash. Another poor tree lost its life for nothing.

But the main reason I don't order from those catalogs is my enormous skepticism regarding many of the products they sell. I know that those creams that "eliminate cellulite" and "erase spider veins" absolutely do not work, so why should I believe the claims made about any of the other products, and why should I respect the company enough to buy anything at all, even a duvet cover?

You know, as I turn the pages and examine those anti-aging "cures," which I'm sure many women believe in and buy (and when the latest one doesn't work, try another one), I wonder how a publication such as this might be viewed in 20 years or so. People will probably roll their eyes at the phony claims, virtually all of them by then conclusively proven false. They might consider today's examples of snake-oil-in-a-jar the same way we look at the skin treatments, female cures and other "medicinals" in the 1905 Sears catalog, or even in the 1694 manual, "The Ladies Dictionary: being a General Entertainment for the Fair Sex," an edition of which is going on the auction block on September 11, according to Britain's Daily Mail.

This book, described by book specialist Matthew Haley as "the Cosmopolitan magazine of its day," devotes much of its content to beauty advice. I'm not sure how much of this relates to anti-aging, as the average life expectancy in the 17th Century was probably about 35, but women had the same concerns about weight, flabby flesh and rough skin.

Regarding weight, being too skinny was ill-advised, as one can probably discern from the full-figured portraits of the day. I love the way this is expressed in the book: "Bodies that are very Lean and Scragged, we must own, cannot be very Comely. It is a contrary Extream to Corpulency and the Parties Face always seems to carry Lent in it." You'd think they'd been looking at a picture of Victoria Beckham! Poor starving little wretch. But instead of feeding her, I'll bet Victoria's friends are having a contest to see who can be the most scragged.

Plumpness was in fashion in the 1600s, but even then, there was such a thing as "too fat." (In other words, they'd think Kirstie Alley used to be too fat, but is perfect now.) To lose weight quickly, women were advised to bathe in claret wine infused with wormwood, calamint, chamomile, sage and squinath (the flowers of a kind of rush). Now, before you laugh, think of all those lavish spa treatments that are supposed to banish inches, remove cellulite, etc. They're incredibly expensive - a "series" of them is always prescribed -- and are very relaxing but do nothing to solve the cellulite problem! You may feel smoother and perhaps a little energized for a time, but your cellulite has NOT gone away. I'll bet those 17th Century women felt better after bathing in claret, too, especially if they drank a little of it. Before adding the wormwood, of course.

Today's spas offer an array of "mineral" baths and facials. A dermatologist will tell you (as she told me) that the skin does not absorb minerals. As for "flushing toxins out of the body," those treatments don't do that, either. If you want to get rid of toxins, try eating purer food in the first place and drinking a lot of water. And, remember, many bottled waters are really just tap water. "PWS" on the label means "public water source." In twenty years, people will regard old bottles of Aquafina as quaint, humorous collectibles.

Well, back to the 17th Century. Women in those days had the same concerns we do about "wobbly bits" - those flabby or saggy areas. They were told to apply "to the place that Languishes, or does not equally Thrive" a disgusting mixture of chicken and goose grease, pine, rosin, pitch and turpentine, mixed in an earthenware pot. Then, they were to wait until it hardened into a plaster. This might take all afternoon; maybe girlfriends would meet for "plaster" parties, drink a little claret, and sign each others' casts!

Of course, this procedure did nothing but make the woman smell like rancid fat and gasoline, compounding her lack of attractiveness to the opposite sex. If Juliet's nurse had treated her with this, Romeo would've stayed far, far away.

The book also describes a similar remedy for breasts: "Breasts hanging down or large; how to make them Plump and Round." No plastic surgery necessary - and in 1694, going under the knife was not a good idea!

Science has come a long way in the past 300 years or so, but in many ways, our wishes keep us willfully mired in the ignorant past. Some of the priciest spa treatments and face creams offered today are no more "anti-aging" than goose grease was in the days of yore. If you really want to feel better and soften those fine lines, take a walk, enjoy some wild salmon and fresh vegetables, read a good book, and drink a little claret.

Or if you just want to feel better, drink a lot of claret.




August 21, 2007

KEEPING YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL IN LAS VEGAS

What incredible luck! As I prepare for a move to Las Vegas, with the goal of singing "Keep Young And Beautiful" on a Vegas stage until I'm, oh, 90 or so, I find out that I'm relocating to the home of a 21st Century fountain of youth. Talk about hitting the jackpot.

As I've said before, every day holds the promise of yet another news story using (sigh) "aging baby boomers" as a taking-off point, and here's one for today, from the London Daily Telegraph:

Cenegenics Medical Institute, or CMI, in Las Vegas, promises to sculpt rippling abs, smooth the skin, and "boost performance from the office to the gym to the bedroom." Over 13,000 clients, including a few Brits, have made the pilgrimage to Las Vegas to shell out for a $3,000 consultation and up to $13,000 worth of exercise and diet regimens, vitamins and hormone replacement therapy.

Most patients receive testosterone, and about 20 percent also are prescribed injections of human growth hormone, or HGH. The founder of Cenegenics, radiologist Dr. Alan Mintz, said in an interview last year that HGH causes a decrease in fat, an improvement in the skin, an increase in muscle, improved mood and heightened sexual activity. It's like turning back the clock. "Next year does not have to be worse than this year," the article quotes him as saying. "How about good sexual activity with your loved one once a week, twice a week, feeling good about it?"

Well, how about it? That sounds great! But Dr. Mintz is not having any sexual activity now, and even Viagra won't help, because this June, at the age of 69, he passed on to the Great Gymnasium In The Sky. His death raises a red flag because normal life expectancy for the average non-HGH-supplemented man is 74.

How exactly did he die? Well, we don't quite know. According to Dr. Jeffry Life (yes that's his name), a CMI staffer and Dr. Mintz's personal physician, he died from a brain hemmorhage brought on by an accident in the gym.

My husband just looked at me from his reclining chair and laughed, "What have I always said? Exercise is bad for you." (Sadly, he means that.)

I'm wondering if we'll ever know the whole story of how this man died. Critics of HGH injection therapy say there's no evidence it helps and that it may be dangerous. One of those critics happens to be my favorite anti-aging doctor - if you've seen my show, you know I worship him, literally - Dr. Nicholas Perricone, M.D. In his book, The Perricone Promise, he says HGH is "the true youth hormone. It builds muscle, increases the vitality of the body's organ systems, and decreases the levels of the stress hormone cortisol. It would be helpful to increase the amount of HGH the body produces; however, there are many questions and concerns about the safety profile and side effects of administering HGH directly into the system."

He advises that one way to maximize the body's own HGH production is to avoid food that causes a rapid rise in blood sugar. (I suggest reading all of Dr. Perricone's books to get a handle on how to keep your blood sugar at a near-constant level. This is the best anti-aging thing you can do!) The quality and quantity of sleep are also very important; don't exercise within four hours of going to bed or drink coffee or alcohol late in the evening. In fact, it's best not to drink coffee at all; tea is much better. As for supplementation, Dr. Perricone has developed a thymic peptide supplement; he explains that thymic peptides work like thymus gland hormones to stimulate the pituitary gland to release HGH. This also helps the body overcome what Dr. Perricone calls "thymic menopause," a gradual shrinking of the thymus gland that causes a weakening of the immune system.

I haven't tried the thymic peptide supplement and would like to see some studies on thymus hormones and HGH levels. But Dr. Perricone has long been on the cutting age of researach on the inflammation/aging connection and other areas that are just now becoming mainstream. And I can tell you that I'd definitely try the thymic peptides before getting injected directly with HGH!

In fact, I'm a little worried about Debby Harry, the singer for the group, Blondie. In late July, she talked with The Insider about her Herculean anti-aging efforts. First, she admits to "essential" plastic surgery. Okay, that's not a big deal, especially for performers, but then she reveals she's also had HGH injections and "cell therapy," which involves injections from the embryos of black sheep. Hmm, why just the black ones? Maybe it's to help keep the skin wrinkle-free; after all, as Oprah has said, "Black don't crack."

Harry said that when it comes to fighting the effects of aging, she has tried everything.  In her mind, we have a choice: "What else can one do, besides going out looking miserable or looking fabulous?"

Well, if we're not careful and bet on unproven and dangerous treatments, there's a third choice: we can lose everything. The casket can be left open for the mourners to admit our smooth faces, and our midriffs left bare to reveal our rippling abs.




August 19, 2007

THERE SHE GOES AGAIN - Can't get off the "baby boomer" thing (see yesterday's rant, below).

Did you know the baby boomers have a social conscience? They do, really!  I know this because I read it in the paper, in yet another article about those very-very-special baby boomers. Now that they're empty-nesters and don't need to make big bucks anymore - never mind the many people between 40 and 60 who are still paying for their kids' and possibly grandkids' college - they're devoting themselves to lower-paying but presumably more satisfying jobs, such as teaching or nursing.

Nothing wrong with that! We definitely need more teachers and nurses, and these are noble callings, so a trend in that direction is a great thing. It's ironic, though, that when the oldest baby boomer women were preparing for careers in the 1960s, the main jobs open to them were in - you guessed it - teaching and nursing. Working in the lower-paying, "caring" professions may be something new for most men, but older boomer women who are disenchanted with their careers and now want to teach have simply come full circle.

In contrast, it was a different world for boomer women who entered the workforce twenty years later and are now in their early 40s. Feminists -- the older baby boomer women - had paveed the way for them, and they took for granted that they could go into just about any field they liked. Teaching or nursing? Puh-leeze! 

But now, according to the article I just read, all the baby boomers, disillusioned by their unfulfilling but lucrative corporate jobs, can finally feel good about going into an altruistic field such as nursing. In fact, the younger ones had better become nurses as soon as possible, because the older ones will be needing nursing care from them.
That's because the demographic category we call "baby boomer" spans twenty years! Somebody just made it up, you know. (I wish I knew who it was, so I could find a way to pay him back for all the torment he has caused me.) All it really means is that parents tended to have relatively large families during the years they were born, but culture "experts" have imposed meaning on it that it just doesn't have.

To cite just one example, in the latest incarnation of corporate snake-oil, consultants are making big bucks telling clueless business executives that baby boomers are, let's say, team players who want the corner office while Gen-Xers are iconoclasts who aren't motivated by traditional perks. To me, this kind of gross generalization about individuals of particular ages is nearly as repugnant as saying that blacks are shiftless but might be motivated by watermelon in the break room.

And think about it: the oldest baby boomers were at Woodstock, wearing tie-dye and listening to Hendrix. Twenty years later, the youngest boomers were at the mall, wearing giant shoulder pads and listening to Huey Lewis & The News. Older boomers might even have conceived their children at Woodstock, who would then have grown up to be the younger boomers. Even discounting normal individual variation, what can the two ends of this wide spectrum possibly have in common?

Yet, day after day, we're bombarded with news stories about those darn baby boomers - who are "aging," you know, unlike other people, who presumably are staying the same age - and all the ways they're turning the world on its head. Seemingly in lockstep, THEY do this, and THEY do that. Most of all, THEY are getting older by the minute, and not a day goes by that they're not reminded of it multiple times, in advertising, in feature stories, on virtually every page of More magazine, and even in ageist comments tossed gratuitously into entertainment reviews (see previous blog entry).

It's really getting, pardon the expression, old.

And, personally, I don't see baby boomers as being all that revolutionary as long as they allow themselves to be dealt with in this way. The older ones were at the forefront of change: civil rights, women's rights. Why do they now play along with the push to identify them with an arbitrary age group and a description that may not fit them at all, just so some twenty-something Madison Avenue marketing whiz can more easily sell them things? Perhaps the endless talk about aging has made them feel too old and tired to stand up and proclaim:

I...AM ...NOT...A DEMOGRAPHIC!


...I'm saying this only because I have a social conscience.




August 18, 2007

Here's a pet peeve that many undoubtedly share: the "boomer rock" concert review that dwells as much on the aging fans in the audience as it does on the band.

And when it does talk about the band, it not only tells us how young or old the music seems now, but also how well or poorly the band members have aged. The critic apparently expects them to look like their own grandparents, and sometimes they fulfill that expectation. If they do, he smugly points this out to us, and if they don't, he speaks of them as if they're shocking freaks of nature.

Example (and inspiration for today's blog): the review of Patty Smyth's concert in the August 17 edition of The Dallas Morning News, written by staff critic Mario Tarradell.  Mr. Tarradell simply cannot believe that Patty Smyth, at 50, can look so youthful! He writes, "She's almost criminal, that Patty Smyth...(after 23 years) the New York native looks and sounds as if not a day has gone by. Surely she's made a devious plot for eternal youth with somebody." And, "Ms. Smyth sang with such joyful abandon. She may be 50, but she moves like she's 30."

Overall, it was a glowing review of both her and her band, Scandal, and she should feel complimented and proud. At the same time, is it not possible to compliment a 50-year-old woman on her performance without giving the back of one's hand to the idea of being 50? What was he expecting, for her to hobble out on her artificial knees and try to recreate some approximation of her former glory?

How does a 30-year-old move, by the way? I've seen many who couldn't dance a lick and some who could hardly get up from a reclining chair.  That goes for some 10-year-olds, too. And the idea that a performer has to make some sort of pact with Satan to remain attractive and current really chafes me.

You see, this is why, as a performer, I don't tell people my age. I don't want people telling me I look great on stage "for my age." I don't want them to have "the number" in their heads constantly and to be filtering everything I say through their idea of what a person "that age" is. People do this. It's a culturally-acceptable bias. I'm sick of it, and I refuse to play the numbers game.

A female performer doesn't have to be very old to get sucked into it. I've heard disparaging age-related comments about the Dixie Chicks (in their 30s, aren't they?) and the Spice Girls (likewise?), among many others. Forget Madonna; these are the new old ladies of pop music. It's the rare review of Sheryl Crow that doesn't make an issue of her age (early 40s, I think). She looks great not because of any pact with Beelzebub but because she takes good care of herself and follows the advice of Dr. Perricone, as do I.

Here's one more example of ageist music criticism, another review from The Dallas Morning News, this one by staff writer Mike Daniel on August 13. Now, we have to stipulate that Rush goes back a long time; indeed, the review tells us that Rush is 39 years old. Not the musicians, the band. So, of course, the audience is going to be all grown up. Some - not me -- call them "baby boomers," or just "boomers."  Mr. Daniel writes: "Baby boomers dominating the crowd of 15,000 at Smirnoff Music Centre on Saturday night may not have looked broad-minded, but in spirit and action, they were."

Jeez, another backhanded compliment. You wouldn't have thought people their age would be broad-minded. Mr. Daniel, please tell me, what does a broad-minded person look like? Do you assume he's the young, edgy-looking guy? I'm thinking he might look more like Drew Carey.

Mr. Daniel goes on: "Guitarist Alex Lifeson looked the most like he's in his mid-50s (all members are, in fact, there), but sonically, he was the most distant from it." Another backhanded compliment. He doesn't look as well-preserved as the other band members, but his playing, in contrast, sounded like that OF A YOUNGER PERSON. The quality of the performance, once again, is associated with some arbitrary age in the critic's head.

If the guy were of a really advanced age or had come back from some debilitating neuromuscular disease or something, I could see relating the quality of his playing to that. Tony Bennett's singing prowess at 80 does amaze, because it's rare; there are simply not many fabulous 80-year-old tenors around. But critics need to stop talking about musicians over 35 or so as if they're making their last stop before checking in at the nursing home. I'm sure these critics think of themselves as extremely broad-minded people, but they're just showing some age-old prejudices.

At least they look broad-minded.

(BTW,  to see how music critics ought to handle this issue, check out what Patrick Williams had to say about Rush in the Calendar section of the Dallas Observer.  Kudos to him!)



Aug. 17, 2007

I'm now fully recuperated from my marathon reviewing of "Age of Love" and once again ready to crawl from my hole and join the world of the living.  I have only one more thing to say about that: after the show finished airing, the SportsByBrooks website revealed that Jen Braff, the 48-year-old "executive assistant" rejected for the young flibbertigibbet, has done semi-nude modeling, including a 1999 Playboy shoot, and sold autographed (clothed) photos of herself at Glamourcon, the L.A. porn convention.  I wonder if Mark would have chosen diferently had he known that. 

The full story is here, along with photos that are really pretty discrete, but if you're at work, you make the call.  I wouldn't get too worked up about this; the discovery that hot women who volunteered for a humiliating TV dating show were really aspiring models and actresses is about as shocking as discovering rampant Botox use on the "Desperate Housewives" set. 

And now, some news from the age and beauty front...

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The British government surveyed over 1,600 people and found that men in early middle age are the least happy with their lives. Respondents were asked to rank their well being on a 1-10 scale. Most people ranked it fairly high at around 7.3 with a slight dip for women aged 25-34. But men in their late 30s-early 40s ranked their happiness at just 6.8, well below teenagers, the elderly and women of their own age. My theory is that they’re just depressed to discover that the late 30’s are now considered “early middle age.”

The good news for men is that the mid-life crisis passes (probably right after that first divorce), and after retirement age, their happiness rises to 7.8, the highest ranking of all.

And then, they die.

Even more interesting to me is the finding that there is a slight dip in happiness among women aged 25-34.  And yet, that's the age all the other women wish that they were.  So be careful what your wish for...

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La Stampa newspaper reports that Italian nutritionist Eugenio Luigi Iorio has enraged purists of the national dish by developing what he claims is an "anti-wrinkle pizza" (although any pizza will help fill in your wrinkles with fat, if you eat enough of it).  He said the toppings, such as tomatoes, garlic, basil, mushrooms, carrots and spinach, are high in age-fighting antioxidants; and the wholemeal crust has magnesium and iron and three times as much fiber as a typical pizza.  Even more, if you eat the box it's delivered in. 

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Giving the lie to the idea that good gifts come in small packages, the Australian men's magazine Zoo Weekly is holding a contest in which men can win their lucky womenfolk the gift of an $8400 boob job.  Readers are asked to send in photos of their mates' cleavage and let readers vote on which one most deserves free breast implants.

The government launched an investigation into whether it breaks a law against using plastic surgery as a contest prize, but the magazine got around that by offering the cash value of the operation, so you don't HAVE to use it to buy new breasts...but of course, what else would you possibly spend $8400 on?  Health advocates call it appalling, feminists are disgusted, and the head of the Australian Society of Plastic Surgeons asked what we'd think if a women's magazine asked readers to volunteer their boyfriends to win a penis enlargement (look for that contest in the October Cosmo).  But Zoo Weekly editor Paul Merrill said, "It's impossible to think of a more romantic gift than new breasts. It's the gift that keeps on giving."

Yes, I'm sure it is impossible for him to think of any gift more romantic than that.  But then, men are always giving gifts that are really just things they want to play with themselves. 

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Finally, two new studies prove what many of us have long believed anyway: beauty does you more good than brains. 

First, researchers from the University of California divided a set of test subjects into three groups: the very good-looking; the average, moderately-attractive people; and the outright ugly. They found that not only were beautiful people consistently treated better and judged more positively by others, but they also earned on average 7 percent more than Average Joes, and a whopping 12 percent more than Ugly Betties.

One expert called it the "halo effect."  Because some people are beautiful, we tend to assign other positive traits to them, seeing them as nicer, smarter or more talented, even though there's no connection with looks.  I mean, come on: do you really think Angelina Jolie is nicer, Keanu Reeves is smarter, and Paris Hilton is super talented?

My theory is that they got it backwards.  It's not that beautiful people make more money.  It's just that people who make more money can afford a lot more plastic surgery. 

Meanwhile, a new Ohio State University study disproved the idea that smart people make more money. A 25-year study of 7,000 randomly-chosen subjects found no correlation between IQ and income, net worth or level of financial distress. The study author said that whether you're rich or poor has more to do with luck, timing, parents, choice of spouse and other factors, such as "Are you Paris Hilton?"

Personally, I agree with the second study but I have to question the first.  I know from experience that neither stunning beauty nor intense brilliance has ever made me any serious money.





AUG. 13, 2007

I make it a point not to get involved in politics, but I have to admit we were excited to see the strong showing by former Arkansas Governor Mike Huckabee in the Iowa GOP Straw Poll on Saturday.  That's because Gov.  Huckabee is a fan of our radio service, The Comedy Wire  (he even wrote a very funny  Foreword for our book, Nine Hallmarks of Highly Incompetent Losers), and he's a fan of my singing.  He personally requested that Michael Gott and I play the two Christmas galas at the Governor's Mansion last Christmas.  And he gave my husband Pat his assurance that if he is elected president, I'll get to sing at the White House.  I feel that this is definitely a winning issue for him.  I'll let you know if he keeps that campaign promise. 

In the meantime, here at last is my review of the final episode of "Age of Love," and what a relief that it's all over.  I will soon put all these things into chronological order on their own page, but until then, scroll down to read earlier entries.  And what happened in the finale?  Did he pick the 25-year-old?  Or the 48-year-old?  Or did he pick the 48-year-old, and then Monty Hall appeared and offered to let him trade her for two 24-year-olds?  Read on and find out...


AGE OF LOVE - Finale

Hooray! This is the last night I'll have to hear those horrible lines from that obnoxious announcer. "Mark answers the question, 'Does age really matter?' Will Mark choose a woman in her 20s...or a woman in her 40s?"

But I rejoice too soon. This night, in the beginning minutes of the final episode of "Age Of Love," he outdoes himself. He actually says, "EVERY WOMAN WANTS TO FIND TRUE LOVE...BUT WHEN IS IT TOO LATE?"

(I'll pause for a moment. Sorry even to have to write that. Yes, it is a word-for-word quote.)

"Two women remain," he continues. "A 25-year-old and a 48-year-old." During a brief recap of previous episodes, he says, "Before long, age was all but forgotten, and hearts got broken along the way." Of course, age hasn't been forgotten in the slightest on this show, as the announcer asks AGAIN, "Who will Mark choose: a woman in her 20s...or a woman in her 40s?"

They play the opening theme again, "The Look Of Love." This show is overwhelmingly about looks, and the 40s are judged not just on their beauty but in large part by how young they look FOR THEIR AGE. As I say in my show, years after the Civil Rights movement, it's still all about skin, and attractive women over 40 are just "tryin' to pass." I should mention that it's all about looks for the 20s, too; some women from both age categories have no doubt financed new surgical wings for their plastic surgeons and aetheticians with all the work they've had done.

Anyway, back to the show. They're touching down in Melbourne, Australia, to meet Mark's family. Amanda, 25, says, "This is it." Jen, 48, says, "This is it." Mark, 30, says, "This is it." (Seriously, they all say it. These three do have something in common: an uninteresting way of expressing themselves.)

Elaborating a bit more, both women admit they're in love with Mark. As for Mark, he says he first felt chemistry with Amanda, right from the start. (Cue flashback.) He's found Amanda to be "more in the moment than the other girls." (Impressions can be wrong. Based on footage the producers chose to include, Amanda is seriously thinking longterm and is the biggest strategizer of the bunch.) Mark says he was also drawn to Jen from the beginning. (Cue flashback.) "It freaked me out that she's one of the most beautiful women here," he says. "If I'd been asked to go on a blind date with a 48-year-old woman, I wouldn't have gone. She's changed that for me."

By the way, that last remark strikes me as the most honest statement and perhaps the only redeeming moment in this entire mess. It reflects something else that I talk about in the show: that once people know "the number," they automatically have an image in their heads. They can't help but categorize, even if what they're thinking is completely wrong. And that can affect a person's life! Mark has hit upon the reason - the only reason -- I don't tell people my age. If other people are going to play the numbers game, I simply refuse to play.

Anyway, the time has come for Jen and Amanda to be introduced to Mark's family. "It's very important for my family to like the girl," says Mark. Jen has brought a gift, and she seems so relaxed and comfortable with Mark's relatives. When asked, Jen tells them her age, and after a momentary surprise, she gets the usual comments that she's "so beautiful." His mother offers this: "We have a saying, you can't judge a book by its cover. I think it's the same with age."

Jen does most of the talking, while Amanda seems nervous and intimidated. Jen helps with the salad; Amanda apparently has never made salad and doesn't know what to do. After a nice Greek dinner, Jen says, "Absolutely I could see myself as part of Mark's family." The family likes both women; shy Amanda makes points with Mark's mother because she is also shy. Another win for Amanda: somebody mentions grandchildren.

Now, it's time for Jen to go on her date with Mark; she says she's nervous "for the first time." They take a snuggly, romantic boat ride, during which Jen tells him -- I'm not sure why -- how many times she's, well, you know, during an intimate encounter. Then, on to dinner inside the glass-walled Melbourne Aquarium. Now, to me, this is just about the most astonishing and romantic setting for dinner that could ever be imagined - although I might have to order something other than my favorite, seafood.

Jen says, "You're spoiling me. How can I ever go back to real life?" Kudos to her for recognizing that this is not real life. I've always thought that even regular dating was an artificial way to find the right person.

The un-age-conscious Mark mentions age again, but at least with a positive spin: "Jen has opened my eyes and my heart to the fact that age doesn't matter in love."

Jen wants to know how he feels about her, not just the age. (Thank you!!) They agree that they both feel like themselves when they're together and laugh a lot.  Jen says, "You've given me hope again for love." (oh, gag) "And I thank you for that." After dinner, they cuddle into some pillows, talk some more, and look at fish.

After the date, Mark says, "More and more, I'm pulling for Jen."

After the commercial break, Mark and Amanda go on their date. Mark drives Amanda into the country to a wildlife sanctuary, and this makes her very happy! (Wow, it would make me delirious! As the owner of 16 exotic birds, including cockatiels, a budgie and three different species of cockatoo, I've dreamed of going to Australia just to see the wildlife. But, I digress.) Amanda may not have Mark eating out of her hand quite yet, but she does have kangaroos and koalas doing it, which for all I know is preferable.

Yet, judging from comments she makes afterwards, Amanda's mind seems to be mostly on Jen's date, and how that went. Mark may think Amanda is "in the moment," but how can he really know that? His impression seems way off the mark to me.

They move on to dinner, at a Japanese restaurant that features huge, explosive balls of fire as part of the décor. Mark says later, "When I kiss Amanda, I feel something." Well, of course you do, Mark, and it's probably one of those gigantic fireballs scorching your neck.

Amanda is honest with Mark about her strong, strong feelings for him. And after the date, Mark seems to be having a very hard time choosing. He keeps saying he doesn't want to hurt anyone. I know from experience that if he likes them both but that "not hurting someone" is his primary motive, he will pick Amanda. He knows Jen is strong and could deal with his rejection philosophically, but Amanda would be destroyed by it and probably go jump off a building.

What better reason could there be to pick that special someone?

Before Mark tells them his decision, Jen and Amanda have a quiet conversation about the elimination and also about their age difference. Jen says, "You're just getting started...I'm glad I'm 48 because I know who I am." She's reasoned this out; Mark's choice will depend on the kind of man he is. Does he want to be able to show someone new things, or would he rather have someone who will show him things? At the same time, she sounds more like one of the 20-somethings when she likens being chosen to winning "the grand prize." Moony Amanda admits that, for her, not being chosen "could be devastating."

After the commercial break, Mark meets Jen to tell her his decision. Through the magic of editing, he also meets Amanda at the same time of day in the same spot. The camera cuts back and forth:

"Jen, you blew me away when you told me your age." (Oh, please. More about her beauty, yada yada yada.)

Then, "Amanda, from the very first, we had a connection....."

Back and forth, back and forth; then he finally tells Jen that he doesn't think it'll work out. There's not much more to say. She smiles sadly, kisses him lightly and walks away.

When Amanda learns she's been chosen by a man who is still a stranger to her in many ways, she beams, "I'm the happiest woman in the world, because I have my man. I have Mark." (Permission to hurl granted.)

Mark says afterwards, "Amanda is the first one I felt a connection with...If you click with someone, you click. Doesn't matter about age."

Jen's not so sure. She says, "We had a very strong connection. But he got scared. I know if I had been younger, he would've chosen me."

So, I have to wonder. Though I hate the fact that this show existed at all, what if it had been set up differently, with the 40s mixed in with the 20s and Mark not knowing anybody's age, not even being told that the contest was about age? The unsuspecting Mark probably would have figured Jen to be at least ten years younger, and I'm with Jen in thinking he probably would've picked her. He kept saying that "the number" didn't matter to him, and he may not have consciously thought it did, but the only way to know would be to see which woman he picked under these revised rules.

The announcer still could've asked, "Who will Mark pick...a woman in her 20s, or a woman in her 40s?" But Mark, oblivious to the social experiment he was a part of, might have chosen differently.



August 10, 2007

I finally wrote the synopsis of episode 4 of "Age of Love," the one I accidentlly skipped over, and my write-up of the finale will be posted as soon as I can stop barfing.  To make it easier,  I've posted it below under July 27, so scroll down and you'll find it just above Episode 5.  After the finale is written, I'll put all these things in chronological order, place them on their own separate page, and then we must never speak of this again. 

Let's go to the news and find more pleasant things to talk about. 

The London Sun reports that Hub Clothing in Scottsdale, Arizona, has created a revolutionary solution to an age-old problem: it's the "Butt Cam." Co-owner Tom Simon said a lot of people dread trying on jeans and not knowing how they look from behind, so he came up with the idea of installing a camera outside the dressing room, set at butt level. People can stand in front of it, look at their rear ends in a TV monitor (as if there aren't enough asses on TV already), and see for themselves if the clothes make their butts look big.

It's been a big hit with shoppers. And with their husbands, who literally consider it a lifesaver. Of course, now, the women will be asking their mates, "Does this monitor make my butt look big?"

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Also from the Sun comes news of the latest diet fad. It's a book called "Skinny Bitch," written by a modeling agent and an ex-model who are both self-proclaimed "Skinny Bitches." They claim the book "cuts out the crap" and tells it how it is. It's basically a vegan diet with a lot of attitude and some questionable medical assertions, such as that we get fat "because we don't poop enough" (except for models, whose main food source is Ex-Lax). So I suggest you poop more, and when you do, use this book as toilet paper.

Incidentally, sales of this book on Amazon.com leaped 674 percent after Victoria Beckham was photographed last weekend carrying a copy in Los Angeles. Although by L.A. standards, Victoria Beckham is a fat bitch.

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Finally, some grimmer news: The University of Cardiff in Wales found that women in their 40s are more likely to binge drink than college girls (and not just after watching "Age of Love"). Researchers breathalyzed 893 drinkers late at night at the city center and found that 40 percent of men and 20 percent of women were drunk enough to risk injuring themselves. But in men, the alcohol level peaked at age 29, while in women, it rose with age and peaked in women over 40 (one more argument for women in their 40s to date men in their 20s).  This despite the fact that men buy so many more drinks for the women in their 20s.  

One researcher said they don't know why women over 40 are the booziest of all, but "we speculate younger women have more responsibilities at home, and once the children have left home, then the sky's the limit." 

Personally,  I speculate that women in their 40s drink more because their children have moved back home.



July 31, 2007

Since it's summer, I should direct you to a couple of articles about summer fashion, and the latest beach trend, the "monokini."  This is a one-piece swimsuit with various holes in it, as if moths had been chowing down all winter long in your swimsuit drawer.   The idea seems to be to create a swimsuit that hides all the parts of your body that you don't want revealed, then cut out holes over those specific parts.  Here's a New York Post story  about the monokini, and just in case you aren't paranoid enough as you hit the sand, here's a feature from Britain's Daily Mail that not only discusses choosing the right swimsuit but also offers helpful advice from a unique viewpoint: two piggish guys who ruthlessly critique how various female celebrities look in swimsuits.  There are no photos of these guys in Speedos.  I have a feeling that's a good thing. 

And while we're on the subject of summer fashions, here's an article about how 3-inch heels are yesterday's hominy grits and the new thing is 4-inch heels or higher (Victoria Beckham looks down on the help from 5-1/2 inch heels).  Soon, women will just be tottering around on stilts.  The article gives some handy figures on how much you will need to budget to pay for both the trendiest 4-inch designer stilettos and the resulting expensive foot surgery.

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Speaking of surgery, do you know anyone who would get plastic surgery to look like Courtney Love?  I do: Courtney Love!  Love had radical cosmetic surgery and was so disappointed, she's trying to find a surgeon who can put her back the way she was naturally (good luck finding a plastic surgeon who has any experience at that.)  Love said, "I'm hating that I did that to my mouth..I just want the mouth God gave me back.  It was perfectly cute, and I had nice big lips."  Sure, it was a bit hard to control in public, but it looked nice.  This is one more sad example how important it is to think it over and do your research before you get even minor cosmetic surgery. 


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Well, I've put it off as long as possible.  Here's my review of last night's episode of "Age of Love" (BTW, I've realized that I skipped episode four, so I will write a review of that and possibly repost all this stuff in chronological order once it comes to its merciful end next week.  In the meantime, scroll down for the earlier episodes)...


AGE OF LOVE - Episode 7
(first aired Monday, July 30)

The ever-more-irritating announcer intones:

"Two women in their 20s and two women in their 40s remain...

"The dark side of love emerges...

"In the end, will he choose a woman in her 20s, or a woman in her 40s?"

The theme song plays. Yes, it's The Look Of Love.  For one tiny redeeming moment, a nice quote comes up:

"We don't stop playing because we grow old. We grow old because we stop playing." -- George Bernard Shaw.

And, by God, these women are playing. Playing rough. Playing to win. This episode ramps up the tension and jealousy considerably. You might recall that last week, Jayanna was let go by Mark after Amanda's "whisper campaign" against her. This week, 38-year-old Jayanna returns (on video) to warn the other women about the "desperate" 25-year-old Amanda. But her remarks are so backhanded against all the remaining women that her words go largely unheeded.

In the words of one of the 20-somethings: "She's almost 40 - like, get over it."

Jen, the oldest and seemingly most sensitive of the group, feels bad for Jayanna. Her comment: "If I didn't know Mark, I would hate him for what he did to my friend." But since she knows him, he apparently can get away with anything, because she definitely still wants him.

Mark chooses Maria and Amanda to go on the first date of this episode with him. "Maria doesn't get stressed about everything," he says. "I get a very cool vibe from her." And Amanda "is a great girl." After a commercial for Neutrogena anti-aging products, the three of them go to a dance club together for private salsa lessons. Amanda brightens at the idea.

"I know that my age really gives me an advantage," says Amanda.

In a way, she's right. The producers have brought outfits for the women to wear on the dance floor. While Amanda gets to wear a hot, stretchy little two-piece outfit with long, sexy fringe, Maria is put into a white, matronly ruffly dress that subtracts three inches of height and adds 30 pounds. "A woman in her 40s can still pull off a hot little salsa outfit," smiles Maria, and I didn't do too bad." Maria, dear, nobody except perhaps Catherine Zeta-Jones could pull off that dress. 

Maria, taking the spirit of competition a little far, goes completely nuts on the dance floor. "She just tries so hard - it was pathetic, I think," says the always-sensitive Amanda in her critique. When Amanda takes to the dance floor with Mark, she's much more relaxed and self-assured, secure in the knowledge that her flattering outfit makes her look slinky and fabulous. "I feel more sexual with Amanda, says Mark. "She is just hot. Maria was, like, sweating..."

Later in the evening, while they're just sitting together talking, Maria asks Mark to pretend this is his last date with her. What would he want to talk about, to say to her? She's obviously trying this approach to get him to open up, but Mark says afterwards that it was a "buzz-kill...Maria's being Maria again. She totally killed the mood."

His next date is with Megan, by herself. Mark laughs, "She's only 21, but I do like hanging out with her. She says the funniest things!" (Yeah, I remember her joking to Mark last week that Jen was as old as her mom. That was so FUNNY!)

The date is for an afternoon "high tea." But Megan doesn't care for the idea. "I feel like my date was definitely more suitable to the 40s. I don't know anything about tea at all." Tea is for old-maid aunts who shop together at flea markets, I suppose. Judging from last week's camping trip, the problem with tea is that it is not booze.

But Mark and Megan enjoy each others' company and even salsa dance a little (no music) after nibbling on scones and tea cakes. "I'm definitely falling for him," she remarks afterwards.

The final date: a call to Jen to say, "Your carriage awaits. Bring your swimsuit." The carriage turns out to be a fantasy right out of "Cinderella." Jen looks completely gorgeous as she heads out the door; the other women look as though they could rip her apart. Jen beams, "Right now, I feel like the most special woman in the house. I really want Mark to choose me." Mark seems smitten with Jen, too; he even says, "I'm saving the best for last." Jen tells him that this is the most romantic date she's ever been on. The implication is that, coming from a 48-year-old woman, that's saying a lot!

Later, after changing into their swimsuits, Mark notes that "her body is just ridiculous. She is in incredible shape." They talk easily, as always, and get very close. Then it's time for massages, in the dark. Jen comes back to the suite beaming, and can't wait to recount her date to the others, who are decidedly nonplussed.

After the date, Mark, who has commented repeatedly that he's not thinking about age, says, "Jen, without a doubt, gives the women in their 20s a run for their money." Jen reports that "tonight, after my date, I've fallen for him."

Naturally, the other women are petulant. The youngest, Megan, whom Mark finds so endearing, pouts, "It SUCKS! I've always asked that someone take me on a friggin' carriage ride!" Amanda is once again stuck on the realization that she's not being treated as "special" after she's put herself out there.

Maria's talking about leaving -- again. "I have learned, at 42, that I need to follow my instincts," she says. The other women have noticed that she's talked repeatedly about leaving, but she never does.

Mark has a brief one-on-one with each of the four women. Megan's is over before I even realize what they've said to each other. Jen tells Mark, "Now I am definitely in this." Amanda admits it's hard for her to watch him make connections with the others. For the second time, she attempts to sabotage another woman - this time, Jen -- saying, "I got a full report of the massages..."

Finally, Maria. "At 40, I don't know if there's tomorrow," says Maria. (Hey, does anyone?) "I get turned off when I'm opening the door and inviting you in, and you're slamming it shut. So, I'm eliminating myself." Mark had wanted her to stay; they talk for an hour, after which Mark says he's "emotionally drained."

Afterwards, Maria says, "At my age, I just kind of know what I need." So, for Maria, it is about age. And even if she knows perfectly well what she needs, she hasn't learned to communicate it very well, except for some vague idea that Mark "share himself" with her. I'm not sure what she's been trying to pry out of him; no wonder he's frustrated. This dynamic, with the woman constantly demanding that the man talk and share his feelings, goes on in many households, I'm sure - many unhappy households. Mark is better off without it.

So he moves on. He goes to the women's suite and tells them that (1) Maria has eliminated herself, and (2) they need to pack immediately for...Australia! That's where his family is, and he wants the remaining three women to meet them.

How exciting! And the fact that she is the only 40-something left is not lost on Jen. "Age is nothing but a number," she says. "I hope I can be the one to prove it."

But Megan is so severely flight-phobic that her white knuckles burn out the camera lens. As they all board the plane and prepare for takeoff, she becomes increasingly pale and sick. She can't go through with it. The flight is delayed so that Mark can escort her off the plane, out of the airport and into a cab. They kiss, actually for the first time. It's sweet; she manages not to throw up on him. "Why now??" he laments later. "It shouldn't end like this. I did not want her to leave."

Indeed, my prediction had been for the competition to come down to Jen and Megan, the oldest and the youngest in the entire contest. I think that if Megan hadn't left on her own, that's the way it would've been. Now Mark will be choosing either Jen or Amanda. I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out Amanda had spiked Megan's drink with some sort of anxiety-producing drug. As for Jen, Amanda will probably find some way to off her during their 14-hour flight. Amanda observes, "I never thought I'd be vying for Mark's heart with someone almost twice my age."

The plane takes off for The Land Down Under, as our smarmy announcer leaves us with this:

"Only two women remain: a 48-year-old woman and a 25-year-old, and it's finally time for him to choose between young and old."

If I ever meet the author of those lines, it's going to get violent. His arm is going to snap like a 100-year-old woman's.




July 30, 2007

More age and beauty stories will be posted shortly, but here's something completly different.  Parade magazine did a cover story Sunday on animal intelligence.  For some unfathomable reason, it doesn't even mention birds. 

I think it might have been inspired by a series of questions in Marilyn Vos Savant's column.  I replied to one of her responses with a letter about my African grey parrot, Dorian (Dorian Gray...get it?  See, I had to sneak age and beauty in here somewhere.)  She posted that letter on her website and referred people to it a couple of weeks ago in her national column.  Since this is now the Parade cover story, I thought I'd direct your attention to my letter about Dorian, who makes a cameo appearance via photo in "My Ship Has Sailed."  Read it and discover a parrot who is smarter than the NBC executives who greenlighted "Age of Love."




July 27, 2007

Some news items on age, beauty and plastic surgery have been piling up, and I'll try to get them posted over the weekend.   But first, I have a bitter and unpleasant duty to perform.  That's right: it's time for the latest installment in my ongoing series of reviews of NBC's "Age of Love."  Grab your Pepto-Bismol and brace yourselves...


AGE OF LOVE
Episode 4

It's announced that "you are all going to be living together." Groan.

Until now, the 40s have been together in a suite on the 40th floor, and the 20s have been on the 20th floor. Mark is on the 30th floor. (Get it? The producers are milking this age thing for way more than it's worth.) From now on, all the women will be on the 40th floor.

"It's our house, and they're gonna respect it," warns one of the 40s. "I don't trust these women," sneers a 20. Already, the stage is set for a "divide and conquer" mentality - one age group against another.

The announcer does his part to inflame the hostilities between "young" and "old": "These women are just out of college," he reminds us about the 20s. As for the 40s, "These women are old enough to be their moms." Yeah, yeah. Even though the older group starts at a mere 39 years of age and the younger group includes women in their late 20s, we're going to be hearing that tired observation many more times before the contest is thankfully over.

The women do seem to divide automatically into two camps; it's ironic to me that they are the ones who think about age the most. Mark, to his credit, doesn't seem very age-conscious, at least on the surface. "They're all incredible personalities. They're all sexy."

The competition today is a Triathlon. Now, are the producers coming up with all this athletic stuff because Mark is an athlete and wants a Bionic Woman who can keep up with him, or simply to make the 40s sweat to keep up with the 20s? If it's the latter, they must be disappointed, because the 40s and the 20s perform equally well in these physical contests, and they look just as good doing it. One 40 comments, "These younger girls are skinny; skinny doesn't mean strong."

Anyway, the triathlon consists of biking (teams of two women sharing bicycles-for-two), running and crossing water on a surfboard to get to Mark's yacht. Jen, at 48, is extremely competitive here, maybe because she's conscious of being the oldest woman in the contest, but every woman is pushing as hard as she can to reach the yacht first, or die trying. Is this guy really worth such heroic effort? It all seems a bit pathetic to me.

As if reading my thoughts, Mark comes on screen, saying, "I felt so bad. I thought, "I'm not worth it! Go back, go back!"

One of the younger women, 23-year-old Tessa, pushes too hard and sprains her ankle badly. Jayanna, 39, is the first to reach the yacht. (She's very skinny, but apparently also strong.)

Unfortunately, no one comes on screen to mirror my next thought: "Is this any way to choose someone to date?"

Mark spends some time with Jayanna and finds her relaxed and easy to talk to. The 20s are not happy that an old lady of 39 won time with him. "The 40-year-olds are stepping up their game,” says one. "They're intimidated by us." Apparently, one skill that younger women possess is that of mind-reading.

Mark arranges for the women to meet him at (sigh) the tennis court. Some of them are dismayed by yet another athletic trial, especially poor Tessa, who's limping around on crutches. He has two 20s and two 40s play against each other while he watches. (Note: if I had to win a contest this way at 20, 30 or 40, I'd lose and lose big. Not being a sun baby, I just haven't played outdoor sports at all. My tennis game may have suffered, but my skin thanks me every day.) The 20s have a much louder, flirtier style on the court, though all the women look equally fit and sexy in their tennis clothes.

Tessa winces out to the court and tries to play with her injury, and in doing so wins points with Mark, who has said he's looking for a woman who will try new things. He asks her to join him on a date, as the other women try to suppress their gag reflex. The 40s have actually played better tennis than the 20s, but the younger women have won more time with Mark, and that's the important thing.

It's time for more confrontation, with one of the 20s calling the 40s "prima donnas." The 40s are struck by the insecurity of the 20s, with all their whining and pouting. Mary, especially, cries at EVERYTHING.

Tessa goes on her date with Mark, in a lovely cocktail dress that contrasts nicely with her Ace bandage. He really seems to like her. They have a lovely, romantic dinner, during which Tessa tells him, for some reason, that Amanda has strong feelings for him. "If you don't have strong feelings for me," she says, "let me know." After the date, Mark admits to the camera that he is baffled; why would a woman on a date with him be talking about the feelings of another woman? (I have to admit that I'm puzzled, too. Perhaps Amanda has hypnotized her into saying this; she definitely would if she could.)

The date over, Mark asks for one-on-one time with each woman. Jayanna feels a real connection with him, and tells him so. Later she says to the camera, "The 20-year-olds don't have the kissing skills I have. I left him wanting more." Give me a break.

In fact, Mark would not agree with Maria's self-assessment. In his one-on-one with Amanda, he tells her, "You're the first one I've wanted to "KISS' kiss."

Jen and Mark have a pretty steamy makeout session themselves. "She blew me away with her kisses," Mark says afterwards. Jen must be giving it all she's got; she opines to the camera later, "I'm the oldest one...time is running out." Jen, Jen! I have to hope the producers manipulated you into saying that, or that they took you wildly out of context.

Time for two of the women to say goodbye. First, poor little Tessa has to hobble away, but maybe she's on so much Vicodan for her ankle that she can't feel any pain. Mark says she "ruined things" on their date by bringing up Amanda.

Then, Kelly, who is 40, is told it's over for her. She says she feels blindsided. The show ends with a comment of hers that makes me wonder why she'd agree to be on this show in the first place:

"I don't need to be reminded of my age - I know how old I am every day."

The remaining women - along with us in the audience - will continue to be reminded constantly until this travesty is over.


AGE OF LOVE,
Episode 5

The announcer, who is becoming the most annoying part of this show, sets the tone once again:

"It's the biggest dating experiment this summer!...Old or young, the women are starting to fall for Mark!...The competition between the 20s and the 40s is starting to get vicious!...The claws come out.

"In the end, will he choose a woman in her 20s...or a woman in her 40s?"

Are you throwing up yet? If not, maybe the theme music will do it:  they're playing "The Look Of Love."

By episode 5, all contestants have been eliminated except for three women in their 40s and three in their 20s. In order to get to know the women better, he takes several of them on a date.

Surfing.

You know, I really can't think of a better way to get to know a woman.

If I were a contestant on this show, I'd probably be the first to go home because I'm just not the sporty type. With my red hair and porcelain-white skin, I'm like Woody Allen: "I don't tan, I stroke." Though I do work out and am very fit, I don't surf or do any water sports at all. (Regardless of how well these women swim, many of them could use their enormous fake breasts as flotation devices.) I don't play tennis. I don't ice skate, although it might be fun to try that. On second thought, I'm the kind of hothouse flower that perishes in temperatures below 68 degrees. Just wondering: Are the women doing all this athletic stuff because Mark himself is an athlete, or because the producers want to pit young against old? If it's the latter, I'm happy to say the 40s hold their own quite well against the 20s - and look just as hot in their little outfits.

Mark and his "dates" surf, romp in the sand and get physically close, but they don't discuss movies, books, or stories in the news. For the most part, they don't bring up their families. Forty-eight-year-old Jen does share a little about her son -- but in terms of age, because at 25, he's just five years younger than Mark. He and the women, in one-on-one conversations, do talk about their feelings and relationships in general, but they don't bring up religion or politics, or their opinions about anything potentially controversial. (The only controversy encountered here is the "older woman-younger man" issue.) I doubt that a woman vying for Mark's attention would even tell him if she really didn't like surfing. Jen says, 'I want to show Mark what a 48-year-old woman is all about." Are all 48-year-olds "about" the same thing? Shouldn't she want to show him very specifically what this particular woman, who happens, incidentally, to be 48, is all about?

Only one woman appears independent enough to be totally honest about her likes and dislikes: 42-year-old Maria. She seems quite blasé about the whole process when she says, "At this stage of my life, I don't chase."

Another woman in the 40-plus group is frustrated and jealous that Mark has spent so much on the beach with 21-year-old Megan, the youngest of the group. Her comment: "I didn't come here to meet a man who finds it titillating to be with a 21-year-old for, like, five hours."

After the beach date, Mark has (sigh) another date, with two more women, 39-year-old Jayanna and 25-year-old Amanda. It's an elegant evening outdoors in a Moroccan tent. (Now, I could go for that!) He says he has a good feeling with Jayanna; after the date, she says, "I can't see him not choosing me."

Amanda is already completely moony over Mark. Her soppiness is pretty sickening. In fact, the way most of these women are scrapping for a tiny crumb of attention from this guy is off-putting. It's just tragic that Mark can't be cloned so that every contestant - except, perhaps, Maria, who's fine without him - could have him for herself.

48-year-old Jen is annoyed with "everything" when she's the only one left who hasn't had a date with Mark that day. But it turns out - lucky her! - that he's been saving her for last. He's going to take her on a motorcycle ride! And it just so happens that there's a hot-looking biker outfit for her to wear. Mark and Jen have a lovely time riding (and parking) together. There's lots of smooching. We cut to: ...

The apartment, where the 20-somethings make nasty comments about Jen's age. "That has to be weird...18 years older?? She could be his mom!"

Mary, 24, is certainly the most immature of the bunch...boo-hooing constantly because she just hasn't had the chance to get to know the fabulous Mark. (Believe me, if they don't get together at all, it will be the best thing for both of them.) I really can't imagine any of the 40-somethings behaving like this, although I can see Mary doing it when she's 40.

Back to Mark and Jen.  They play pool and have a great time. He says he feels very comfortable with her. A candid comment from Jen after the date: "What's most important to me is what I need and what I want. And I want Mark."

Well, okay, then.

Maria, on the other hand, says, "I know Mark's not the guy for me, so I need to be out of here, so he can find the one who is right for him." She tells the other women that she plans to say goodbye to Mark. They take the news well.

Now it's time for Mark and all the remaining women to gather poolside, so that Mark can tell one to go home. Jen (48) is asked to stay, along with Megan (21), Jayanna (39) and Amanda (25). (I find it interesting that in this group are both the oldest and youngest of all the original contestants.) Then it's Maria's turn to walk to him.

Maria tells Mark that he hasn't shared himself in the way she had asked, so she's made up her mind to go home. But Mark makes it clear that he really wants to have that kind of time with her. He wants her to stay. She didn't expect this -- what now? She just laughs and laughs, while the other women steam with anger and resentment.

Twenty-four-year-old Mary is the one going home. Boooo-hoooo-hoooo! She doesn't accept even Mark's gentle rejection well; the way she takes her leave must make him sure he made the right decision. Afterwards, she pouts, "The one thing that sickens me is that Jayanna and Jen are going to be here longer than I am."

I'd like to think that all the 40-somethings are more mature than that. Not to mention all the other 20-somethings.

Whom will Mark reject next?  Will Maria change her mind about him?  Can I sit through another hour of this vapidity without upchucking like a fashion model after brunch? Oh, Lord, I don't know! But I vowed to do it, so you wouldn't have to. So let's fast-forward one week, and you can read about....


AGE OF LOVE
Episode 6

Here's that annoying announcer again: "Two women in their 20s and three women in their 40s remain!"

By now, I've thoroughly had it with the age references. At this point, can't it just be about the individual personalities? We KNOW Jen is (gasp!) 48. We KNOW Megan is a mere 21. WE GET IT. But no, they have to club us over the head with it. Sometimes, the contestants are happy to play along.

One of the 40s does sound a lot like me: "I see a lot of myself in Mark, but that's not enough to fall in love with someone in such a short period of time."

Twenty-five-year-old Amanda, on the other hand, is just a drooling idiot, with her romantic feelings towards Mark out of control.

Mark announces that they're (aaauuuggghhh!) ALL GOING CAMPING TOGETHER.

See, there's another activity that's just not for me. I've never been camping in my life. Take me to a movie, or a museum, or the theatre, or the zoo, or even a romantic picnic to watch the sun set, BUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DON'T TAKE ME CAMPING. Not the 20-year-old me, not the 40-year-old me. But Mark has decided that a camping trip is one way for him to see some different sides of the women's personalities, and I have to admit after seeing the show, he may have something there.

Guess what they do on the camping trip to reveal more about themselves? That's right - they play "Truth Or Dare!"  Somehow, one of the dares becomes "show your ass." Mark turns his back, lowers his jeans and does this (pixilated on TV), and Jayanna says with a self-satisfied smile, "I'm 39 years old...I've got a great ass, and if I've gotta show my ass, perfect!"

The wine flows, and that more than anything seems to be the way for Mark to find out more about these "ladies." Anger erupts among them. I don't really understand what they're arguing about, but the confrontation between Maria and Jen gets so heated that Jen walks off. Mark talks her into coming back and apologizing for whatever it was she said. It's clear that, when drunk enough, women of all ages can behave just like teenage girls.

As Mark says, "When you're a little tipsy, the truth comes out."

Twenty-one-year-old Megan has quite a bit to drink, and she actually tells him she thinks it's weird that he's hanging out with a woman who's the same age as her mom. At this point, I'm starting not to like Megan so much. Go home, Megan.

Amanda sees all the attention Mark is giving the tipsy Megan and laments that the time she spent with him that she'd thought was "special" really wasn't. "I'm so naïve, just like always," she wails.

The announcer poses the question yet again: "Who will Mark send home...a woman in her 20s, or a woman in her 40s?"

At this point, I'm reinforced in my view that age doesn't matter, because all these woman are acting like five-year-olds.

Much more immature behavior follows; it's just too tiresome to recount here. By morning, it seems that even Mark may be getting tired of some of the girls' cattiness.

Jen, the oldest of the group, does seem to be the most mature. But I'll bet she seemed mature "for her age" when she was younger.

Mark takes each woman, in turn, on a walk and tells her whether or not he wants her to stay. Staying: Jen (hooray, and not because she's the oldest), Amanda, Maria and Megan. Two 40s and two 20s; there's always that symmetry. Going: Jayanna. It seems that Amanda, while cuddling with Mark in his tent, told him some things about Jayanna that disturbed him. Jayanna defends herself; she had given Amanda advice and support, and it had been used against her in a "whisper campaign." Ah, the intrigue!

Jayanna says, "I guess I was duped." She accuses Amanda of immaturity and concludes, "I've learned that I'm really happy to be the age that I am, and I don't want to be 20 again."

The show ends with Mark saying, "One of them could be the mother of my children."

Please, PLEASE, don't let that be the focus of next week's show!

Now, where's my bottle of Pepto-Bismol?...



July 9, 2007

Sorry to go so long without an update but I had a big show to perform in Denison (it went great, and the people there treated us wonderfully; thanks to everyone at the Denison Arts Council for sponsoring it and for their fine hospitality.  To read the review, click here and scroll down to the bottom); then we were on "vacation" for a week, which meant we spent a week packing for the move to Las Vegas.  But with episode four of "Age of Love" looming over me like the Sword of Damocles, I have to catch up with my reviews of the last two, so here we go...


AGE OF LOVE
Episode 2 

Episode One of "Age Of Love (20s vs. 40s)" had me seething, but I promised to dance to the masochism tango and watch the entire run of this travesty, just so you wouldn't have to.

You probably recall that at the end of Episode One, 30-year-old Mark had met all the beautiful 40-something contestants, only to learn that he'd also be choosing from a group of foxy 20-somethings. The announcer ended the show with a warning to hold onto your hats -- the women just got a whole lot younger!

Episode Two starts predictably: Mark meets the hot, vivacious younger women, one by one, and each chats briefly and tells him her age. But this time, the presentation is very different. The 40-somethings had been dressed in classy evening wear (introductions took place after dark, by a swimming pool), while the 20-somethings are flashing their tans in the bright afternoon sun by that same pool and wearing...bikinis! These are rowdy girls; they're loud and proud. Message: These are the fun babes!

Later, the camera follows the younger girls to their rooms (on the 20th floor, natch), where they jabber incredibly ageist comments about menopause and hot flashes. "Mark is gonna want to be with a younger woman," says one. "My mom is 40," says another. My hunch is that comments such as these (if they are not concocted by the producers and put into the girls' mouths) come from fear; it's probable that these women are already terrified of looking one day older, so they attack the older women like a herd of wild animals attacking the sick one.

The 20-somethings are definitely going for a particular look. Although there's some variation, the most common body type is very skinny and hard with huge, obviously fake breasts and fake tans. (If you're watching the show, think Tessa.) I'd guess that the younger women have had every bit as much plastic surgery as the older ones have. No doubt these girls think they're sizzling hot, but I wonder if a guy like Mark necessarily likes such hard edges - or hard implants.

Mark spends some time conversing with the 20-somethings, who mostly talk about themselves. Afterwards, he remarks that talking with some of them was "like pulling teeth. It felt like I wasn't getting anything in return." He's noticed that most of them are doing "more than one thing" and are "still finding themselves." He says he's more attracted to women who know what they want. "When I'm with the 40s, things are a lot more relaxed."

"To be 100 percent honest, I miss the old women." (Yes, I'm pretty sure he said "OLD WOMEN.")

But he doesn't have to miss them for long, because he's sent on a group date with the 40-somethings, at a roller rink. The women are dressed in fun, flirty outfits and look great. "That statement, '40 is the new 20,' really is true," beams one 40-year-old.

The 40s have to compete in a limbo contest to see who gets to spend some one-on-one time with Mark.  Talk about bending over backwards for a guy.  (I'd have lost this contest even in my 20s.) The winner: Jen, the oldest contestant at 48. They have a lovely conversation, with Mark in voiceover saying, "The whole time, I cannot believe she's 48 YEARS OLD." It freaks him out a little that her son is 25. But she tells him she was married to a man 18 years older than she was. Coincidentally, the age difference for Jen and Mark is also 18 years...but, of course, this is older woman-younger man. Not the same thing at all.

After this date, he meets the 20-somethings in his hotel room to play a dance game of some sort. Afterwards, he says, "My opinion of the 20s changed in a positive way," but for the life of me I can't understand what has changed his mind.

Later that night, by the pool, the 20s and 40s meet. The 40s laugh quietly with each other. "We saw breasts...we saw size 2 waists," says one.

The announcer explains (in case some dim bulb still doesn't get it), "We brought you here because we wanted to see if age matters when it comes to falling in love."

Mark gets the last word: "Age and numbers mean nothing to me." Ironic, since it seems to mean everything to the producers of this show.

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Episode Three

The announcer reminds us: "These women are old enough to be their MOMS." As for Mark, "He had no idea what he was getting into!" But "the 40-year-olds exceeded his expectations by far!"

Hey, they're old hags. How high could those expectations have been?

It's explained that at the end of this episode, one 20 and one 40 will be going home. (No, it can't be two 20s or two 40s, even though numbers don't matter to Mark.) The 40s tend to be more philosophical about losing, with one observing, "The guy who wants the 20-something girl is not my guy." "You know, I'm 40 years old," says another. "I've had my heart broken before. I just want to find that someone."

But the stress is already taking its toll on others. One of the 40s says, "Whew! I might start looking my age by the end of this!" (Okay, what does "40" look like? If she's 40, wouldn't it by definition have to look like her?)

The 20s have quotes of their own. Whether by their own design or the producers', their comments are the most ageist of all. Example: "What's a synonym for 'old'? 'Decrepit.'" There are also references to (yes) bingo and old folks' homes.

The 40s plan a date for Mark to go on with the 20s, and vice versa. They send the 20s on a "play date" with Mark and groups of little kids, thinking it would make them (the 20s, not the little kids) seem immature. This tactic backfires; many of the 20s show themselves in a good light. Then, the 20s send the 40s on a date with Mark at the swimming pool at the senior center, thinking it will reinforce the image of them as dried-up old prunes. This strategy also fails; the 40s look fabulous in their bikinis, especially next to fat, flabby centenarians. The 40s end up saying, "Thank you, 20-somethings!!"

One twist: Maria, 42, decides she will leave. She has sensed that there just isn't a connection, at least on her part, so she says a good-natured goodbye. The other 40-somethings, for the most part, also seem to have this "que sera, sera" attitude, while most of the younger women see this as a contest to be won at any cost. That seems to be their approach to life; they do everything they can to reach a state of what they regard as physical perfection, so they can be Alpha Female and get the hunky guy. Gee, I'd always heard it was the older women who were the desperate ones!

Mark does manage to talk Maria into staying, but she asks him to be "more present." It's a good exchange.

Jen, the oldest at 48, is asked by Mark to stay. He looks at her with smiling, astonished eyes and says, "YOU REALLY DON'T LOOK YOUR AGE AT ALL."  Afterwards, Jen, newly energized, makes a comment more characteristic of the competitive 20-somethings: "The 20s better watch out. Game on!"

I can't wait for Episode Four, in which the 20s and 40s move in together. Obviously, they've figured out how to take an awful concept and make it ten times worse. I promise to tell you all about it so you don't have to watch it, and I've laid in a big supply of barf bags for the run of the show. Of course, my main problem isn't sitting through this show - I have a high tolerance for pain -- but just the simple fact that it exists.


(To wash all this out of your brain, here is Conan O'Brien's parody, "The Math of Love," in which Max Weinberg demonstrates all the enlightened sensitivity of the NBC executives who greenlighted this thing.)




June 20, 2007


"Age of Love (20 vs. 40)"

Imagine you're watching the first episode of one of those "dating" reality shows.

You see a handsome, hunky blonde man in a white dinner jacket, waiting expectantly at the bottom of a staircase for the first of a dozen beautiful women to walk enticingly to him and introduce herself.

The first woman, stunningly attractive, descends the stairs. There's a cut to a reaction shot of him as he suddenly realizes she is black.

She approaches him and takes his hands in hers in a confident-yet-vulnerable way. "Hi, I'm Latisha. I'm really looking forward to getting to know you. Oh, and, by the way, I'm black."

A true gentleman, he tries to hide his confusion. What has he gotten himself into? "You look beautiful tonight," he says. "I've never dated a black woman before, so it'll be a new experience for me. It's a little out of my comfort zone. But I do think you are absolutely lovely."

She moves to the other side of the room, as another gorgeous woman starts down the stairs. Again, we see his reaction as he realizes that she, too, is black. What is going on here?

She gives him a friendly hug. "Hi, I'm Pam. I think we could have a lot of fun getting to know each other. There is one thing...in case you didn't notice, I'm black."

At this point, the guy's mind is racing; he can only say, "You look beautiful tonight." They chat for a few moments, and then it's time for the third black woman to walk down the stairs.

By the time he's met and talked with all 12 beautiful black women, and after they've all broken the news to him that - yes - they're black, he's completely open to the idea of dating someone black. He says he has put the issue of race out of his mind.

Then, at the very end of a show filled with curves, he's thrown a new one. A tableau is revealed, featuring the other 12 women from whom he is to choose his Special One over the coming weeks. These women are all classic blonde beauties, and they are presented as the ones to watch, the real competition. The announcer says, "Things just got a lot more complicated...the women just got a whole lot WHITER. Will he pick a white woman, or a black one?" (He even refers to this show as "the ultimate social experiment.")

Doesn't this sound outrageous? Of course it does. YOU WOULD NEVER SEE THIS!

A show like this would never be broadcast! Why? Because it's racist and horrible. Yes, there is still some racial prejudice -- and will be as long as there are idiots -- but racism is no longer a culturally-acceptable bias.

Ageism is.

Case in point: the actual dating show that debuted on NBC Monday, June 18, called "Age Of Love (20 vs. 40)."  It proceeds exactly as I've described above, except the women in the first group are all 40-plus. (The guy is 30.) I merely substituted "black" for "older" and "white" for "young."

In the real show, each woman has to tell the man her age. He registers confusion and a touch of disappointment at first, but ultimately is open to the experience. The women are so warm and appealing, and, most importantly, they look no more than 30. But then, at the end of the show, he catches a glimpse of the twentysomething hotties he'll be meeting next week. Wowwweeeee! They're YOUNG!

I had a much stronger emotional response watching this show than I had anticipated. After the first few minutes, I was trying not to cry. Any hope I'd had that the issue of age would be incidental to the proceedings was dashed. It seemed to me that each woman was participating not just as herself as an individual but on behalf of her particular "number." If the 48-year-old wins, she wins for all 48-year-olds. Because, obviously, 48-year-olds have something to prove.

Although we don't get to meet the twentysomethings till next Monday night, the first episode had a few clips of them and some choice quotes: "The 20s vs. the 40s? You've got to be...joking." "I'm young and definitely hot. Deal with it." "Men naturally want to date younger women." "Hopefully, when I'm 40, I won't still be dating. Desperate for a man...it's pathetic, really."

Now, I don't know how much of this dreck has been staged. The producers, if they're targeting a market of over-30 women, may have deliberately weighted the show with wonderful, worldly-wise 40-year-old babes and shallow, nasty 20-year-old babes. These are cliches, of course. If there's a correlation between youth and shallowness, then I'd say that anyone connected in any way with the creation or airing of this show couldn't be over 11.

I hope it tanks.

Ironically, by the end of the first episode, the participant who seems to be thinking the least about age is the central male character. That might have led some women to think, "Hey, this is great! This is demonstrating that older women can compete with younger women, and that age is irrelevant."

But that's not what it's demonstrating at all. Just the fact that this show even exists demonstrates that age is EVERYTHING.

I'll be forcing myself to watch further installments of this drivel every Monday night, tissues and barf bag in hand, just so I can write commentary on it. (See the things I do for you?) I hope you'll stay tuned, not necessarily for the show, but for my comments!



June 18, 2007

Very busy preparing for the June 29 Denison show (the photo at right is from an interview with KXII-Channel 12, with anchor Ryan Loyd (left) and Mike Williams, a fantastic glass artist and president of the Denison Arts Council), but I have to pop in with a few news items. 

First of all, have you heard of Paul Potts yet?  He's become an overnight hero in the UK, and clips of him are the most viewed videos on YouTube worldwide.  I love him because he's the living embodiment of the message of "My Ship Has Sailed," that looks and age have nothing to do with how much you have to offer the world.

Paul is the new winner of "Britain's Got Talent," the UK parent of "America's Got Talent."  He is a cell phone salesman from Wales, and he is overweight, has bad teeth, and the humble, slightly-whipped demeanor of someone who has been dealt a bad hand in life, including bullying, major health problems and serious financial burdens.   He loves opera but didn't start singing until he was 28, and he's gone heavily in debt taking classes, even though he's never sung professionally.  He's now 36, which is eight years beyond the cut-off date for "American Idol," when people officially become too old to be singers. 

Well, Paul walked nervously out onstage, told Simon Cowell and the other judges that he was going to sing opera, and you could see them brace themselves for something putrid.  He then opened his mouth, and this amazing voice filled with overwhelming emotion just poured forth.  By the end, the crowd was on its feet cheering, and there wasn't a dry eye in the house.  Even Simon couldn't hide his astonishment.  Watch these clips, and I guarantee he'll have the same effect on you.  Here's his first appearance,  his semi-finals performance and his winning performance.  He went on to win the contest, a recording contract, a big cash prize, a chance to sing for Queen Elizabeth and the title of "King of the Late Bloomers," which is awarded by me.

I hope that between the release of the Nancy Drew movie (which finally gives young girls a screen role model who refuses to display any organ in public other than her brain) and the triumph of Paul Potts, that we are seeing the beginning of a quiet cultural revolution, one in which we start celebrating intelligence, humility and genuine talent and no longer turn walking, drinking, snorting, flashing train wrecks into celebrities. I'm not holding my breath, but a girl can dream.  Personally, if I were one of our current crop of camera-addicted, talent-deficient celebrities and I saw Paul Potts, I'd be ashamed to show my face in public again.  But then, showing their faces in public wasn't what made most of them famous, anyway.

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And now, a few quickie news items...

Stanford University confirmed anecdotal reports that gastric bypass surgery changes the way alcohol is metabolized in the stomach, getting it into the blood stream faster and stronger, so that formerly obese people who've lost weight with a gastric bypass also get drunk faster and stay drunk longer, sometimes on just one drink.  It's just the gift that keeps on giving!  And women thought guys were buying them drinks because they were thinner. 

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Elvira is teaming with Fox for a new reality show that they hope will give a bounce to their sagging ratings.  It's called "The Search for the Next Elvira."  Thirteen mammoth-mammaried misses will compete to become the buxom horror hostess's new doppelgangers (no, that's not a euphemism for breasts).  Only on Fox would a show in which every woman in sight has giant breasts be considered "reality." 

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Finally, from the "What Can Brown Do For You?" Dept., comes a report by the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute in Boston that tanning might be addictive. They believe the body's process that converts UV light into vitamin D releases endorphins that make people feel happy, like morphine. In tests, when frequent tanners were offered two identical-looking tanning beds, one of which didn't emit UV light, they unwittingly preferred the UV bed. And when eight frequent tanners were given a drug that blocks endorphins, four suffered withdrawal symptoms.  They started drinking suntan lotion.  The hard stuff, too: SPF 45.   Maybe some sort of Tanners Anonymous group could be formed with funds raised by celebrity spokesman George Hamilton.

All kidding aside, tanning is just about the worst thing you can do to your skin.  I'm glad I knew to avoid it from an early age.  If you think you'd look better in a darker shade, they have some excellent spray-on tans now (I tried a free sample at a spa last week on one arm.  I was assured it would wash right off.  It didn't, and I walked around for a week looking like I drive with one arm hanging out of the car.)   You might feel like a used car at Earl Scheib while they're applying it, but at least you won't end up with skin that looks like a buckskin wallet in 20 years. 




JUNE 5, 2007

I'm told that tickets to our upcoming Rialto Theater performance of "Cole Porter" in Denison are going fast (the $35 VIP tickets that include a post-show reception with private mini-concert by Michael and me are already over 4/5ths sold), so please make your reservations right away if you'd like to come.  It promises to be a fantastic evening, and I hope you'll join us for it.  Contact info is here.

And now, a little age and beauty news...

Britain's Leeds University found that pop videos by skinny, hot-model girl groups such as the Pussycat Dolls are bad for adolescent girls' self-esteem (they aren't great for any woman's self-esteem, but we'll stick with the adolescents for now).  Researchers say the videos glamorize "unhealthy and unobtainable" bodies that are at odds with actual body sizes in society. Their study found that adolescent girls experienced a drop in satisfaction with their own bodies after as little as 10 minutes of viewing Pussycat Dolls videos.

I'll bet their IQs also dropped 10 points.  On the bright side, after growing up on videos, their attention span is only five minutes so they probably stopped watching before any damage was done.

No word on whether young boys who watched those videos experienced a drop or a rise, but I think we can all guess.  Personally, I think that boys should also be taught that the women's bodies they see in Pussycat Dolls videos are completely unobtainable.  That would save their future wives a lot of trouble down the road when their mid-life crises kick in. 

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As if kids need further reason to believe their elders are evil, crazy and laughable, a study by Brigham Young University blames Disney cartoons for planting ageism in the minds of youngsters. They studied 93 characters who appeared to be over 55 in Disney movies going back 70 years. While a majority were wise and kind, like Geppetto from "Pinocchio," a significant number were either dim-witted, like Dopey (personally, I think of Dopey as younger; he just looks older because he's bald.  With a little Rogaine, he could've had a shot at Snow White.  At least he was funny, unlike that stiff, Prince Charming)...or nasty, like the hag in "Snow White," Cinderella's stepmother and Cruella DeVil. 15 percent of the films contained only negative older characters.

The researchers say Disney cartoons negatively influence children's view of elders by depicting aged characters as sinister, incompetent, helpless, hunched, toothless, senile, crazy or laughable, and with cracking voices and "saggy breasts."  Like the Seven Dwarfs: Creaky, Craggy, Slumpy, Saggy, Wrinkly, Puffy and Oldy.

This just seems to me to be a reflection of the stories' origins in old Grimm Fairy Tales.  Besides, you can always counteract it by letting your kids watch live action Hollywood movies, which will teach them that nobody over 55 has saggy breasts anymore.

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A rock group called the Zimmers has a big hit in England with a cover of the Who's "My Generation."  The band consists of 40 elderly members with a combined age of over 3,000 years, and a 90-year-old lead singer (insert your own Rolling Stones joke here).  The group was formed out of a BBC documentary on the problems of isolation for the elderly and was meant to demonstrate that age doesn't mean people can't try new things, which I can certainly get behind.  And if Pete Townshend can still sing "Hope I die before I get old," so can they.  After all, they've already outlived 50% of The Who.   Check out the video of the song here, and if you like it, pay to download it.  The proceeds go to charity.

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Finally, a celebrity quote, this time from Ellen Barkin, who was promoting "Ocean's 13" in Entertainment Weekly: 

"Would I rather look the way I looked when I was 43?  Yes.  33?  No.  I always thought women peaked between 36 and 43." 

I won't bother arguing with that, but only because I find that I never agree with Ellen Barkin's pronouncements on age anyway.  She's the one who set me fuming a few years ago when she said she doesn't wear slip dresses anymore because nobody wants to see a 50-year-old woman in a slip dress.  I was amused to note that the above quote was accompanied by a photo of her from the movie in a hot and steamy scene with George Clooney, and she was wearing...wait for it...a slip dress!  Quick, everybody: AVERT YOUR EYES!!...



May 24, 2007

MAJOR SHOW NEWS!  We didn't want to schedule any public shows due to the uncertainty of our schedule, what with having our house up for sale and preparing to move to Las Vegas, but this was a booking we couldn't turn down.  Michael Gott and I will be performing "Cole Porter: Elegance & Decadence" at the historic Rialto Theatre in Denison, Texas, as a benefit for the Denison Arts Council on Friday, June 29.  How could we say no to such a worthy cause, and to playing in a theater built in 1920?   Denison is a lovely resort town on Lake Texoma, with lots of gorgeous art galleries. (UPDATE! VIP ticket buyers can join Michael and me at a catered reception in a lovely art gallery right next door, where we will perform a few more songs for you in a private mini-concert. But tickets are limited and going fast, so make reservations today!  For ticket info, click here.)

Speaking of great music, did you see Tony Bennett singing "For Once In My Life" on the "American Idol" results show last night?  Wow!  So much for Simon Cowell's sneering that some singers or songs are "too old."  Let's hope some of that greatness rubs off on the younger singers on stage with him.  Also, if it was once possible to write songs as terrific as that, why did they have to go through 25,000 songs to come up with that horrible "This Is My Now" song?  Are they seriously claiming that there are 24,999 songs in the world worse than that?  I have songwriter friends who could burp better songs than that.  They would be catchier and contain less gas.

Oh well, let's put that unpleasantness behind us and turn to a little age and beauty news...


Scientists at McMaster University in Canada put seniors with an average age of 70 on an exercise regimen and found that not only did they become stronger, but gene activity in samples of their muscle tissue began to resemble that of people much younger.  So exercise can literally reverse aging! 

Of course, this is no surprise to me.  I began working out regularly at Bally's about a year ago, and I not only feel better and stronger, I look 20 years younger.  People now mistake me for five.

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Here's a story about a British TV presenter who felt insecure after some louts on an Internet bulletin board insulted her looks so she went in for what the story calls by the Fleet Street nickname "Botox Lips," but I assume they really mean Restylane or collagen injections.  She says she came out looking like Goldie Hawn in "First Wives Club" ("You look like your lips got caught in a pool drain"), and tried to pass it off as swelling from a riding accident before coming clean.  Two lessons here: be more careful about choosing your cosmetic procedures and who provides them, and ignore what idiots say about you on the Internet.  If you disagree with me, you're welcome to post a nasty, flaming, immature reply on my comments page.  Oh wait: I don't have one of those. 

See how easy it is to ignore people like that?

This story from the Daily Telegraph also includes a slide show of photos of unfortunate celebrity plastic surgery.  If you want to see it, it's here.  But I warn you: some of the photos are not for the squeamish.

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England's University of Warwick studied tests of more than 250,000 people worldwide and found that in general, men's minds decline faster with age than women's, possibly because they've worn them out filling them with sports statistics.  Participants took four cognitive tests, such as remembering the location of objects in a drawing and typing the names of as many gray-colored objects as they could think of in a minute. The performance of both sexes declined with advancing age, but women declined significantly slower than men. But then, any married man will tell you that their wives never forget anything!

Study leader Elizabeth Maylor did caution that this is just a general trend, and said, "You can't sort of say, 'Oh, you're a man, so you're going to decline faster than me because I'm a woman.'"

Oh, what the heck, go ahead and say it; the man will probably forget it anyway...

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Finally, from London's Daily Mail, a very interesting interview with Joan Rivers, in which she talks about age, body image, the anger behind her comedy and the criticism she takes for getting so much plastic surgery, when she thinks everyone else in Hollywood does pretty much the same thing.  A sample in which she explains the harsh early experiences that  still drive her to constantly tinker with her looks...


"I am not a supermodel. I am not the one the men fall hopelessly in love with. I did not come from the lucky sperm club with all the money."

Is that why she has had so much work done? How ugly was the teenage Joan Rivers — or rather, how ugly did she think she was? Has she spent her whole life — and a chunk of her fortune — trying to be somebody else?
 
"I was not the prettiest girl in the class," she admits. "I was a very ordinary girl. If you come from my family your mother tells you over and over again that you are the most beautiful and wonderful thing and suddenly you go to school and you realise you're a pig."


Ironically, the cure for looking like a pig: getting injections of collagen from pigs.



May 18, 2007

I know everyone else has already commented on this by now, but it’s taken me all day to quit seething long enough to type and comment on Melinda Doolittle being VOTED OFF OF “AMERICAN IDOL!”  I think I’m even more upset than I was when Jennifer Hudson was voted off, and for a couple of reasons:

First, in this case, the contestants who remain are so obviously inferior to the reject in talent (between Jordin's vibrato and Blake's beatboxing, the finale will come with a warning that epileptics should not watch it); and second, the handful of people on bulletin boards and chat rooms who wanted Melinda to go are making a big deal out of her age being a good reason to kick her off.

Melinda is a geriatric 29, the upper limit for singers, apparently; and people critical of her are saying that “American Idol” should be about “youth” (funny, I thought it was about singing ability, but I suppose that’s been disproved enough times that I really should know better). They also say that Blake and Jordin’s fans were younger and spammed the show with text message votes, while Melinda’s were older and didn’t vote as many times, what with the difficulty of having to clear the party line and get Gert the operator to patch them through to Western Union. And they say that Melinda shouldn’t win because her style of singing is too old-fashioned (translation: “on key”) and only appeals to older people, rather than “A.I.’s” young target demographic. In other words, she’d appeal to old fogies who still buy CDs instead of those young whippersnappers the record companies covet, the ones who illegally download music for free. Good move, "A.I.!"

Oh, well, let’s look on the positive side: At least Melinda will be snapped up by some label, and she’ll get to make the record she wants to make, rather than the treacly wad of poorly-produced corporate yuk that “Idol” winners are usually forced to put out. And America is a representative democracy, so I suppose it’s time tonedeaf people had their own singing idols.

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And now, let’s wash “American Idol’s” bad vibes (and bad vibratos) out of our minds with some positive news:

University of Pennsylvania researchers have made a breakthrough in developing a baldness cure: they discovered that a protein called "wnt" signals the body to regenerate new skin, complete with new hair follicles. In the lab, mice that had lost all their hair regrew fur all over their bodies. And who knows?  Maybe someday, you can, too!  Even totally hairless men could look like Robin Williams!

See, I told you I’d give you some positive news!



May 16, 2007

A couple of quick stories for your amusement: 

Sylvester Stallone is facing fines totalling over $36,000 after pleading guilty Tuesday to illegally importing the banned human growth hormone Jintropin into Australia.  He reportedly had 48 (!) vials of it in his luggage.  He must've had to take steroids just to lift his bag full of HGH.  The makers of Jintropin claim that it reduces fat, boosts muscle mass, improves sexual prowess and regenerates major organs (but obviously, not the brain).   

Stallone swore that if he ever goes to Australia again, he'll leave his Jintropin at home.  And he'll come home looking like Abe Vigoda.

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And here's one from the "Duh" file:  researchers at Duke University have proven scientifically that men like to ogle women more than women like to ogle men. 

Scans of the "reward centers" of the brains of 20 men and 20 women showed that men derived the same pleasure from looking at photos of a sexy woman that they did from eating a delicious curry or making money, which explains why they are willing to trade money for photos of attractive women, as well as eat curry off the bodies of attractive women.  However, women derived no significant reward from looking at pictures of men.  Which explains why Playboy has always outsold Playgirl.  That, and the fascinating articles, of course. 

In another test, men were willing to work longer at a computer to access photos of attractive women than to see neutral or unattractive women.  In fact, many men put in eight hour days at work, doing nothing but that.



May 14, 2007
"It's a depressing thought, but most of us look our best at about 21 years of age."

-- Andy Rooney, making yet another statement I strongly disagree with on last night's "60 Minutes"

Once again, apologies for the long delays, but it's not easy trying to sell a house and get ready to move to Las Vegas.  If you know anyone who would like to live in a gorgeous Preservation Dallas Award-winning 1913 home that's priced to sell, please have them contact me ASAP.

Well, lots of news on the age and beauty front has piled up, so let's quickly plow through it... 

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As long as I started with an annoying quote from Andy Rooney, I might as well stick with the theme and begin with the story that annoys me the most:

The creators of probably my all-time favorite TV show "Columbo" say they finally came up with a script called "Columbo's Last Case" that's so good, Peter Falk agreed to don the rumpled raincoat one final time. So they took it to ABC and were dumbfounded when they turned it down.  Despite the fact that TV viewership is down by 2.5 million since last year and continuing to drop, ABC said the young demographic they want to attract (you know, all those hipsters who watch Tony Bennett specials) wouldn't be interested in an 80-year-old leading man.  Apparently, they only like mysteries with no solutions, like "Lost."  All the other major broadcast and cable networks also passed.

The producers say they knew Hollywood was rife with ageism, but the character appeals to all ages and "Columbo" is "a classy, clever, witty show that challenged you to use your mind."  Sadly, they didn't realize that advertisers are only interested in viewers who are too young to use their minds at all.  Fortunately, they're not giving up: Lt. Columbo is an icon all over the world, so they hope to find foreign financing, even if it means rewriting the script to make President Bush the murderer.

The mind reels at the stupidity of network executives who would turn down a "Columbo" movie for such an idiotic reason.  Conan O'Brien is an icon to young TV viewers, and he recently had Peter Falk as a guest and raved on and on about how thrilled he was because he's such a huge Columbo fan.  Just two days before this story appeared, it was our wedding anniversary, and one of my gifts to my husband was a DVD boxed set of the 5th and 6th seasons of "Columbo."  I had no idea that made us geriatic.  I thought it just meant we had good taste.  Come to think of it, why did they even put "Columbo" on DVD?  We "Columbo" fans are obviously much too senile to figure out how to work that new-fangled DVD box thingamabob. 

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Continuing our theme of annoyance, Cameron Diaz told Us Weekly that she's tired of people thinking she's successful in Hollywood just because she's so beautiful: 

Diaz said, "If a woman who's a successful actress weighs 300 pounds and has warts, nobody ever asks her, 'Do you think you made it because you're ugly?' So why should there be prejudice against someone who's had some success in films and looks a little better than average? It's all in my genes, so don't hold it against me."

She's right! It's high time Hollywood stopped discriminating against the slender and beautiful!  So I promise that if I ever meet a successful movie actress who weighs 300 pounds and has warts, I'll ask her a different question.  I'll ask, "How come I've NEVER heard of you?" 

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While we're at it, here's another bit of Hollywood wisdom to ponder: 

Bruce Willis said he's planning to be on the Hollywood A-list for 97 more years until he's 150, adding, "I am counting very heavily on science to keep me alive."  (Really? Science couldn't even keep his hair alive.)  I hope he's right about science boosting longevity, but if he really plans to be on the Hollywood A-List until he's 150, he'll need more than genetic engineers.  He'll need Demi's plastic surgeons.  And he'd better hope one of them knows how to write a decent screenplay with a lead character over 30.

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Nobody hates attempts to suppress freedom of the press more than I do, but I must admit, this story made me laugh: 

Someone stole 1,000 copies of the Framingham, Massachusetts, State College newspaper off the stands, but it wasn't for political reasons. The front page included a photo of seven female students at a women's lacrosse game, wearing halter tops and shorts with "I (heart) NOONAN" (a player's name) written across all their stomachs. Police discovered that two of the girls took the papers because they thought the photo made them look fat (I'll bet they were the ones with the "OO" on their stomachs).  The paper's faculty advisor said, "This is the most stupid reason the paper has been stolen." 

The girls may be disciplined, but not charged criminally.  I'm glad they won't be going to jail.  I don't think they could handle having to wear horizontal stripes.

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From the Sometimes, It's Good To Be A Lab Rat Dept.:

University of Michigan researchers say the secret to a long, healthy life could be regular doses of cherry pie. They fed dried dark, sour cherries, the kind used in pies and jams, to lab rats. After three months, the rats had significantly lower cholesterol and showed factors linked to lower risk of diabetes and heart disease. Studies also show cherries can help regulate sleep cycles and relieve arthritis (the lard lubricates your joints). Researchers pointed out that only a small portion of cherries is necessary to reap the benefits.  So no more than one pie per day. 

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James McCarthy of East London was jailed for 20 months after he went to a hospital to stop his wife Kerry from getting her boobs enlarged. Before you say, "What a sensitive, enlightened man!," you should know that he has a record of domestic violence, and she showed up at the hospital with a black eye (you could tell she liked big boobs because she married him).  He tried to talk her out of the operation; and when she refused, he dragged her out, told her he had a knife and threatened to kill her. A witness told police, "He said to her, 'I like you as you are.  I will kill you now.'" (He just gets more sensitive by the minute, doesn't he?) 

Kerry managed to break loose and run away and has since left him. Incidentally, she decided not to get breast implants after all, although she could obviously use a pair of big guns.  I'd suggest .38s.

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Finally, it seems nudist resorts are concerned about their aging clientele (who are no doubt aging faster than normal, due to sun exposure).

At one Connecticut camp, the median age is 55, and a spokesman said, "We don't want the place to turn into a gated assisted living facility." The problems are that nudist resorts are getting fancier and more expensive, which young people can't afford; plus, today's young people aren't interested in nudism (they see no point in taking off their clothes in public if there's no video camera around). The nudist clubs are trying everything from youth discounts to hiring "ambassadors" to pitch the nudist lifestyle to their college classmates. One nudist said she thinks young people believe nudism is about sex and not just feeling free and comfortable, and that today's college students believe nudists are all hippies.

News flash: today's college students don't even know what "hippies" are.  They think that means an old, naked person with enormous hips. 

My question: would today's college students be interested in watching Columbo if he promised to keep his raincoat on? 
 


May 1, 2007

More stories are coming soon, I swear.  I'm just very busy getting ready for an open house.  In the meantime, here's some more BIG NEWS:  A few months ago, I was asked by a wonderful filmmaker, Kim Fishman (producer of the movie "Fat Girls") to do an interview as part of a series for Yahoo Health in which a variety of women tell their inspirational stories.  I heard back yesterday that the clips are now finished and have just been posted online.  They turned the interview into two segments: one on my ideas about age and ageism and how they inform my show, and the other one about Meniere's disease and the hearing loss and lost years of stage time that it cost me.  Click on the links and check them out!  While you're there, poke around and check out some of the other clips.  Lots of fascinating women and interesting stories at this site, and I'm very proud and honored to have been included.  Thank you, Kim, Amber, and everyone else who was involved!



April 17, 2007

BIG NEWS:  As you might have noticed above, we have decided to relocate from Dallas to Las Vegas, which explains some of the long delays in blog postings.  We have been having to get our house ready to go on the market, look for a house in Vegas, etc.  We hate to do it, since we love Dallas and our historic home that we've spent so much time working on, but we just think that Vegas will offer more venues and opportunities for the show.  And we can write the Comedy Wire from anywhere, so it's time to take the leap of faith and roll the dice (I'm not even in Vegas yet, and I'm already using casino metaphors). 

To tide you over until I'm able to blog again, here is a mountain of stories on age and beauty that have been piling up.  As my husband said when I told him to start cleaning out his office in preparation for moving, "Let's start shoveling"...

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Cynthia Figueroa-Haas, an assistant professor at the University of Florida's College of Nursing, studied 84 women aged 21 to 57 and found that in the vast majority of cases, getting breast enhancement surgery significantly boosted their self-esteem (before the surgery, their self-esteem levels were completely flat). And it no doubt boosted the self-esteem of their boyfriends, as well.

Figueroa-Haas said that despite negative attitudes about the surgery and the fact that it's not a cure-all for low self-esteem, the average woman experienced a 20 percent rise in self-worth scores and a 15 percent boost in sexual function (a mix of arousal, satisfaction and experience) after getting a boob job.  She said more study is needed, but I’m sure that after getting breast implants, those women will have no problem getting studied much more closely than before.

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Sylvester Stallone is shooting his fourth "Rambo" movie, nearly 20 years after he last played the role, but he's come up with an easier way to look buff than to exercise and take suitcases full of human growth hormone.   Stallone hired a body double who is thirty years old, exactly half his age.  The double will reportedly handle scenes that Stallone would find too challenging, such as dangerous stunts, dialogue and any scenes involving math. 

I must admit, this is a brilliant idea.  It's too bad we can't all adopt this.  Instead of worrying about how you'd look in a swimsuit on your vacation, you could just hire someone young and buff to go to the beach in your place while you stay home for a week, eating bonbons and watching TV Land.

Oh, wait: you could just do that without hiring a body double!  Never mind...
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For some unexplainable reason, that Sylvester Stallone story reminds me that Britain's University of Central Lancashire claims to have disproved the existence of the Napoleon Complex, or "Short Man Syndrome." (Well, there is a “Short Man Syndrome,” but it doesn’t refer to height.)

The theory claims that shorter men overcompensate for their lack of height by being more aggressive. But in tests, men of different heights were asked to duel with wooden sticks, and a secret plant cheated by hitting the test subject's knuckles. They found that taller men were quicker to lose their tempers and hit back (possibly because they assumed they’d win). A researcher said that when people see a short man acting aggressive, they tend to blame his shortness because it's just what they notice the most.  And that makes him FURIOUS!!

My question: If there's no such thing as a Napoleon Complex, then how do you explain Napoleon?

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If you’ve seen “My Ship Has Sailed,” you know it’s not just for women. I talk about how age and appearance pressures affect men, too. Well, here’s some good news for men: Reuters reports that Harlequin Romances are trying to freshen up their novels by featuring "real men" as cover models. Research found that the average reader, a 42-year-old female, doesn't like it when the book describes a brawny, macho hero, and the cover features a young, skinny, pretty-boy type (apparently, females over 12 are not reduced to tears by the sight of Sanjaya Malakar).

At a recent casting call in Toronto, 200 guys answered an ad for older, bigger, “Chunka-Chunka Burnin’ Love” style models. A Harlequin spokeswoman said they were seeking an "iconic look that women go for -- sexy, sensitive, beautiful and fit. We want real men...exactly what you think in your mind when you're fantasizing or imagining that ideal man." You know: the Jim Belushi type. I imagine them as not so much Fabio as Flab-io.
Rrrrrrrrrowf!

Of course, all the female cover models will still be 22 and willowy. Let’s not get carried away here.

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If you’re dieting, knock it off: The University of California conducted the largest review of diets ever, analyzing over 30 studies involving thousands of dieters, and found that for the vast majority, diets don't work and may even put their lives at risk.  More than two-thirds of dieters quickly put the weight back on, increasing the risk of heart attacks, diabetes and strokes (usually right after they look at the bathroom scale).

After a brief "honeymoon period," most dieters end up putting on more weight than they took off. And the average woman dieter will gain and lose 357 pounds over the course of her life. Of that, she will take off 140 pounds, and put back on 217 pounds. (It's called a "honeymoon period" because the woman loses 140 pounds for her wedding, then packs back on 217 pounds after the honeymoon).

It's amazing that the comic strip character Cathy is still alive.

On a serious note, the best way to control weight is just to find a healthy diet and stick with it all the time, not yoyo from one fad diet to another.  I've been loosely following the Perricone diet for years, and I feel (and I think, look) better than I did 10 years ago.  Granted, it helps if you like salmon as much as I do.  If you can't bring yourself to eat salmon nearly every day, it might be a struggle.  Also, if you are married to a comedy writer who makes jokes about your cat food breath, this diet may require more patience than you have.  I speak from experience.

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Let's finish off with a few celebrity items on age and beauty.  First up, former supermodel Paulina Porizkova, who was quickly voted off of "Dancing with the Stars," won't be dancing around naked anytime soon either. She told Steppin' Out that women who pose for Playboy in their 50s, such as Jaid Barrymore and Farrah Fawcett, "looked like train wrecks," and their pictures "gave me nightmares."   Porizkova said, "Somebody should have told them to know better. I know all about women's lib and we're supposed to believe we look fabulous at 50 and we should be running through the world showing our boobs. But I kind of don't agree with that."

Personally, I thought they both looked pretty darn good (yes, I saw them: my husband says he subscribes to Playboy for the articles, just in case they ever print any old Jean Shepherd stories he hasn't read yet).  And I think it should be up to them whether they want to wear anything or not wear anything at any age.  What's really ironic is that Hugh Hefner is probably more in agreement with Paulina than I am.  I'll bet he also thinks that women in their 50s are too old.

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In a related story, Kate Jackson said she, Farrah Fawcett and Jaclyn Smith have been approached about starring in an original cast "Charlie's Angels" revival.  Jackson said it's hard to revisit the past but "if the script was right," it might be fun (this must mark the first time anyone's ever said a "Charlie's Angels" script has to be just right before shooting begins).   Also, it would have to include top-flight production values, such as hiring the entire 100-person Botox Team from "Desperate Housewives." 

I'm not holding my breath until this gets made, but if it ever does, with Hollywood being as ageist as it is, I assume they'll all have to wear red bikinis and matching Red Hats.  

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Salma Hayek said she's stunned to be called a sex symbol in the US because she's 5-foot-2 and dark, and where she grew up in Mexico, “beauty” meant being tall, white, blonde and blue-eyed (I thought that meant “tourist.”) Salma said with her dark hair, complexion and shortness, in Mexico, she was considered deformed.

If Salma Hayek is considered ugly by Mexican standards, why aren't millions of American men sneaking across the border into Mexico?

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Finally, from the "Too Much Plastic Surgery" file, the London Daily Mail claims that Tom Jones was warned by a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon that after years of eyelifts, chin tucks and other work, if he has any more done, his face might collapse.  (His jaw dropped when he heard that, but the doctor was able to jack it back up.)

Jones explained that the doctor told him, "'You've got to be careful with your eyes.' He advised me against having anything else done. He said I should try to look as natural as I can."

So he's only going out in public when he can stand between Michael Jackson and Cher. 





March 22, 2007

Yes, I know a month has gone by without any updates, but I swear, it's been a very, very busy month, and there could be some exciting news coming on several fronts.  I'll tell you more about that later so as not to jinx it.  But I am thrilled to report that after wrestling with endless computer problems, we have finally managed to get some video clips from the show converted to AVI files and will soon be uploading them to the site.  My husband Pat has also just uploaded some new photos of people I've met recently, including Bill Paxton, Lacy J. Dalton (after a fantastic concert; and you must get her latest CD, "The Last Wild Place"), Stephanie D'Abruzzo of "Avenue Q" and the recent musical episode of "Scrubs," and the hilarious Michael Urie, who plays the scheming assitant Mark St. James on "Ugly Betty." 

In case you're wondering, I can honestly say that every one of them was incredibly nice.  Lacy J. (whom I learned about years ago because she's Pat's favorite female country singer, and he tries to turn everyone on to her music) was really inspirational, with the way she's turned some recent terrible times in her life (her husband, who had been her creative partner for years, had a mid-life crisis and ran off with a younger woman) into some of the greatest country songs we'd heard in years.  She also told us horror stories about being a performer "of a certain age" and how she is treated.  For instance, she recorded at least three albums in Nashville that were never released because she was deemed to be too old to have radio hits, but not quite old enough not to be a threat to the lightweight young twinkies the record companies were pushing.  And so, her records went unreleased, which Pat describes as "a crime against posterity."

In a more positive turn of events, we were surprised to discover that Stephanie D'Abuzzo was a fan of Pat, who doesn't exactly seek the limelight, to put it mildly.  We met her at the Column theater awards gala, and he gave her a copy of his book about celebrity records, "Hollywood Hi-Fi," thinking its pop culture hilarity might be something she'd enjoy.  She immediately recognized the cover and became very excited because she and her husband already owned and loved the companion CD from Brunswick and didn't know there was also a book.  Pat said that was a very odd feeling; meeting a stage and TV star of whom he's a fan and having her tell him she's a fan of his.  Trust me, it's not something that writers get very often.  Anyway, if you'd like to see the photos, they're all here.

And now, let's catch up on some news from the age and beauty front...

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China's Chonqing Morning News reports on a new use for plastic surgery. Lang Qiang said he has good luck, but his wife has bad luck: for instance, he stood on a bench with no problem; she stood on it and it broke. Then a fortune teller told him that her misfortune was due to his protruding cheekbones, and they would make her die before him (possibly by impaling her).  To save her life, he told her he was going on a business trip, but he actually got cheekbone reduction surgery. 

I wonder if it ever occurred to him that if she broke the bench and he didn't, maybe she just needed a little liposuction.

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A study of 54,000 people by the Norwegian University of Science and Technology found that having a sense of humor helps you live longer.  Those ranked in the top quarter for appreciating humor were 35 percent more likely to be alive after seven years than those in the bottom quarter (and 100 percent more likely to be laughing through their friends' funerals). 

The moral of this story: Laugh at my jokes, or you will die.

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In a refreshing turn of events, everyone seems to be trying to put a new twist on beauty pageants.  Here are two that have only thing in common: Donald Trump will never buy either of them:

In Switzerland, a beauty pageant called "Miss Retirement Home" has been launched. The only requirements are that entrants have to live alone, be over 70, and be able to walk without an aid (that would rule out most recent Miss USA contestants).. Organizer Laurent Rerat invented it to protest society's obsession with youth. The first pageant was won by Leontine Vallade, who is a gal after my own heart: she refused to reveal her age to reporters. 

Meanwhile, AFP reports that on April 18, the small town of Isafjoerdur, Iceland, will hold an unusual beauty pageant.  One of the organizers, a self-proclaimed feminist, was dissing pageants in a pub with some friends when they got the idea to hold one that challenges Western ideas of beauty and changes the rules about what beauty is. Both men and women can compete, and there is no age limit. Entrants will be rewarded, rather than penalized, for wrinkles, saggy boobs and other flaws.  The only restriction is that nobody who's ever had cosmetic surgery may enter, which explains why they had to go to rural Iceland to find contestants.

First prize: an Extreme Makeover.

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I have more, but it's getting late, so I'm going to break this up and add more stories within the next day or so.  But I want to leave you with news of a revolutionary invention that will change your life, particularly if you're a woman with champagne cup breasts who wishes you were toting a couple of magnums instead. 

The makers of the Beer Belly, a strap-on fake belly in which men can carry a secret stash of beer, have a new product in the beta testing stage: the Winerack. It's a bra with compartments in the cups that not only hold your favorite wine, they boost your breast size up to a D-cup. A long, flexible straw runs up the bra strap, so the wearer can have a drink, or offer a suck to a man (warning: he will probably misinterpret that invitation).   It's billed as the ultimate way to get a man's attention, although personally, I think that would probably be a triple-E cup bra willed with Michelob. 

The one problem with the Winerack bra is that the more you drink from it, the smaller your breasts get.  Fortunately, the more you let a man drink from it, the bigger they look to him, so it all evens out.





Feb. 23, 2007 - Oscar Weekend!
"It's nice to see so many new faces here tonight.  Same old people, but they all have new faces."
-- Oscar host Johnny Carson

It's Oscar weekend, which is always exciting because we get to find out who won the awards, see the latest designer gowns, and discover all the newest trends in cosmetic enhancement and face-tightening and -rearranging surgery. The timing of it alll is a highly critical and exacting science: everything must be done at the right time and in the right order, or you might, for instance, end up getting Botox too close to showtime and find your face still so paralyzed that you can't even look horrified when Joan Rivers calls you by the wrong name and mimes sticking her finger down her throat over your fashion choices. 

This annual ritual of orgiastic vanity has become such a major Hollywood industry that the New York Times saw fit to write an article detailing it.  You might want to file this away, in case you ever have an important event for which you want to look beautifully and professionally embalmed, just like the stars. 

(If you can't access the Times site or don't want to register for it, the Defamer gossip website has a cruelly funny recap of it here.)

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Speaking of things that people inject into their faces to turn back the years, it seems that one of them actually works, and oddly enough, it makes you look younger naturally.  Studies have found that Restylane not only fills out wrinkle lines, it makes the cells start generating new collagen, the way they did when your skin was younger.  I'd already read about this and wasn't surprised, but it's nice to see a new study confirm it.  Read all about it here, if you have time before you have to leave for your appointment with the dermatolgist to get Restylane.

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A new report by the American  Psychological Association not surprisingly lays the blame for a lot of physical and mental health problems suffered by young girls on the relentless media images sexualizing underage girls.  Coming in for particular criticism are Bratz dolls, Barbie's urban 'ho cousins.  This prompted the irreverent London Sun to create an alternative: "Frumpz Dolls."  Click on the picture to see a larger version of the paper doll and a few of her outfits, from a nun's habit to granny panties to a chastity belt. 

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Finally, speaking of Frumpz, a new organization has sprung up as an anti-age-obsessed alternative to the Red Hats.  They're called the Blue Thong Society, and they say their mission is "to fight frump."  They have a national convention coming up soon in San Diego, and chapters are opening all over the country.  I might help set one up in Dallas.  They seem like my kind of gals!  Check 'em out...




Feb. 20, 2007

Here is the type of thinking we have to nip in the bud:

Minnesota state Rep. Phyllis Kahn wants to add the state's 6.5 percent sales tax to plastic surgery, skin peels, Botox injections, laser hair removal, spider vein treatments and all other elective cosmetic procedures.  She says it would target the well-off because hungry people don't get cosmetic surgery (if you want to target people who aren't going hungry, just tax liposuction) and neither do the homeless, although it would certainly beautify the streets.  

As you might imagine, this proposal is about as popular with women as a hockey game that pre-empted "Oprah."  Regular Botox users are furious, although you'd never know it.  And a spokesman for the American Society of Plastic Surgeons said the tax would actually unfairly target working women, since 90 percent of cosmetic procedure patients are women who earn an average of just $60,000 a year, and they have to scrimp and save just to do something for themselves.  So perhaps the plan could be scaled down, so that  the tax only applies to men who  buy breast implants for their girlfriends.

Well, at least we know this is one tax that California will never pass.  Even Nancy Pelosi would be against this.  Come to think of it, especially Nancy Pelosi.



Feb. 13, 2007

The long delay in postings has been because my husband Pat, who does the webmastering, got very sick the day after we returned from Las Vegas, with what we believe is the same grunge that shut down an entire school system in the mid-cities.  (Don't blame him; he's never been to that school.)  He's still trying to shake off a hacking cough.  I came down with it, too, but luckily, I didn't get the cough.   I have some news stories on age and beauty to post and will do so as soon as possible, but for now, I just want to share a few photos. 




First up, here is one of Michael Gott and me at the sound check for one of the Christmas shows at the Arkansas Governor's Mansion.  Beautiful place, and those were some really large Christmas trees, or to be politically correct, "holiday vegetation." 










Las Vegas Comedy Festival


Next, some photos from the Las Vegas Comedy Festival, where I did an excerpt from "My Ship Has Sailed."  I made some great contacts there with several top producers, so maybe one of them will help me bring the show to a theater near you soon.










Laura & Charlie Callas

Finally, one of the great people I met there was Charlie Callas, who just before taking this photo graced me with one of his famous "Vpppt!  Vpppt!" sound effects.  He spritzed me on the face just a little.  I'll never wash my face again. 

During this "Masters of Comedy" seminar, Mr. Callas told a great story that I think needs to be heard by everyone who is struggling to make it in his or her chosen field and thinking about giving up.

He said that back when he was a struggling comic, he got a gig in Vegas as the comic for the hit Louis Prima-Keely Smith lounge show.  But instead of opening the show, they had him close it.  Of course, after the headliners finished, everyone left; and he would find himself walking out to an empty house.  He said it was very discouraging that, night after night, his performance would be canceled for lack of an audience. 

Then one night, he looked out and there were only two people still in the house: a man and woman in a back booth, obviously drunk and more interested in slobbering on each other than in listening to him.  The manager said he was going to cancel the show, but Mr. Callas said he remembered his mentor once telling him, "Never cancel a show.  No matter how small the audience, you never know who might be in it." 

So he bucked up his spirits, went out onstage, and did his full-tilt, wild and crazy comedy act for those two completely oblivious drunks. 

After he left the stage, he was sitting in his dressing room, soaked with flop sweat and tears, so depressed that he was thinking he'd wasted his life and never should have gone into show business.  He was thinking of what other career he could possibly switch to when a knock came at the door.  He opened it, and standing there were Tom Jones and his agent.

Jones, who was in town headlining one of the big showrooms, said he was walking back to his room through the casino when he heard this comic doing a crazy act in the lounge, so he looked in and was stunned to see him performing for two people.  He said he had to meet the guy who had so much dedication to his craft that he'd give everything he had to a show for two people.  And he said, "I'm doing a variety show in London next month, and I'd like you to be in it."  His agent arranged everything.

One month later, Mr. Callas said, he was standing outside the London Palladium, looking up at a marquee that listed Tom Jones and a number of other top British stars, ending with "Charlie Callas, Comedian"  in big letters.

Then he went inside and discovered that it was to be a command performance for Queen Elizabeth and Prince Phillip, who would be greeting the performers afterward!  So they gave him a quick lesson in how to behave correctly when meeting royalty.

Here's the kicker:  As he was standing in the receiving line, waiting for the Queen and the Prince to make their way down to him, he said a thought came to his mind: 

"One month ago, I was in a crummy Vegas lounge, performing for two people.  Today, I'm at the London Palladium...and I'm still performing for two people!"

So when you're feeling down and ready to give up on a dream, remember that story and think about how quickly things can turn around...especially if Tom Jones knocks on your dressing room door.




Jan. 29,  2007


Bleah, it's Monday again.  But I have a few stories to get your motor running...


Well, here's a wonderful use for plastic surgery:  Zhao Gang of Chongging City, China, lost his wife three years ago in a car crash that he survived, and his parents pressured him to marry again.  He says he only did it because his new wife looked a little like his first wife, and "I want to have a chance to make up for my mistakes."  But he seems determined to create a whole  new set of mistakes to make up for, since he has pressured his second wife into reluctantly agreeing to get plastic surgery to look like his first wife (yeah, his first wife...Morgan Fairchild!  Yeah, that's the ticket!)  

Zhao, who perhaps has seen "Vertigo" one too many times, said, "Maybe it's more or less unfair to her, but she has agreed, and I will embrace her with all my love" (all the love he had for his first wife, that is.)  

But the hospital's head of plastic surgery insisted they have counseling first, saying that plastic surgery can't make two people look just alike and is not the best way to sustain a relationship, even if it does seem to work for Melanie Griffith. 

If I were the counselor, I think I would suggest a technique that would not only solve their peculiar problem, but that has probably saved many a more mundane marriage in the past: just have sex with the lights off. 

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The British Association of Aesthetic Plastic Surgeons reports that in the UK, women are having to wait longer for breast implants because surgeons are busy with an increasing number of men having their breasts reduced.  The number of men seeking to get their man-boobs, or "moobs," liposuctioned nearly doubled from 2,100 in 2005 to 4,000 last year. Some men blame the epidemic of jiggly moobs on an excess of female hormones in tap water, although some suspect it might be an excess of beer on tap.   Unless they also plan to blame their beer bellies on pregnancy. 

It's just a shame the doctors can't set up some sort of donor-transplant program for boobs and solve everyone's problems. 

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Finally, Consumer Reports tested nine popular anti-wrinkle creams, from inexpensive lotions to $335-a-jar La Prairie (so named because your skin looks flat and smooth from a distance, but up close, you'll see the cracks).  200 women used them for 12 weeks, then a high tech optical device measured their skin roughness and wrinkle depth. The best of the lot was Oil of Olay's Regenerist, whose entire three-product line costs just $57 total. But even the best ones reduced the depth of wrinkles by less than 10 percent. So the good news is, if you buy 10 jars, you'll be wrinkle-free!

The bad news is that the only creamy substance that reduces wrinkles by 100 percent is spackle.  And the only way any skin product can guarantee that you will no longer see any wrinkles is if you squirt it in your eyes. 



Jan. 24, 2007


OSCAR NOMINATION QUOTE:

"There's something incredibly sexy about a Helen (Mirren) or Meryl (Streep), who are the antidote to the Britneys and Parises - they are people of real substance and drive...A lot of the younger counterparts are going to fall by the wayside. These are women who've survived, so therefore, they exude a sense of accomplishment. They wouldn't still be there if it was a matter of looks. They've got real talent...

Helen Mirren is a lock to win... It's the biggest lock since Mother Theresa's chastity belt.  Best Actress has traditionally become an award for younger people - Reese Witherspoon, Hilary Swank, et cetera. This is a great stride where the Academy is finally not afraid to pick someone of substance."

                                                                                                       - Columnist Michael Musto


But let us not overlook Abigail Breslin of "Little Miss Sunshine," who at age 10 is still only the fourth-youngest female ever nominated.  By Hollywood's standards, she could go on playing leading lady roles for another, oh...15 years.

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Whew! Just back from the Las Vegas Comedy Festival, with so much news piled up to post!

First of all, Vegas was great. I did an excerpt from “My Ship” on the Play Vegas stage, got some good feedback from a lot of comics (including Paul Provenza, Charlie Callas and Pete Barbuti) and top people in comedy production, and had a chance to discuss my show and give demos to everyone from the producer of “Defending the Caveman” to the man who moved Jimmy Kimmel from radio to TV. It was an incredibly hectic trip (we couldn’t find the car rental return and nearly missed our plane home; it’s nice to know that you can still sprint through an airport without being shot by homeland security), but well worth it.

While we were in Vegas, we got to see the great Penn & Teller (our sixth time to see them in various locales) and visit with Penn Jillette again afterward. We also met their pianist, who is amazing and is coming to Austin for a jazz festival soon.

Later on, we went to Harrah’s to see one of my idols, Rita Rudner, a soft-spoken, very feminine woman who does a clean, witty, hilarious show in a spangled gown (starting to see the resemblance?)

Since Pat and I write a daily syndicated radio prep service, Pat was able to arrange a short visit in her dressing room after the show. She was, as expected, wonderful and gracious. She is also completely in sync with the ideas in “My Ship.” She told us that she wants to target the over-40 audience because they are “completely ignored,” and that her next book will be about ageism and be called “I’m Filthy,” which was as close as she could get to bringing herself to say, “I’m fifty.” She even autographed my copy of her novel, “Tickled Pink,” with “To Laura: How old am I? Rita Rudner.” My only regret is that I didn’t get a photo to post, but our interview was rescheduled from before the show to after, and by then, the photographer had left and she’d changed clothes. Oh well, next time. And we will definitely be going back to Vegas.

From the minute we landed at the airport, and I saw all the ads for shows and heard all the people discussing all the shows they wanted to see, I knew this was a place I need to be. And on the way to the car rental, when I saw the billboards for “Menopause: The Musical,” I knew they need me there to provide the antidote.

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Okay, the news is stacked higher than the mountain of junk mail the birdsitter brought in and left on our couch, so let’s shovel some of it out of here:

From the “Defining People By Their Age” department of Hell, Monster.com founder Jeff Taylor hopes to cash in on Baby Boomers' frustration with Yahoo and Google by launching a new search engine just for them. To make it less confusing for those poor, buggy-driving, Alzheimer’s afflicted 50-year-olds, each search will return only four non-advertiser sites rather than thousands; and they'll be targeted to the perspective of someone at least 50 years old. It's called Cranky.com (I expect they’ll get a lot of complaints about that name). Yes, now you can live forever in a simplified, protected virtual world...just like Wally and the Beaver!

Let me guess what it’s like: If you search for “Lawn care,” it takes you to sites about how to keep those damn kids off your lawn. Search for “American Idol,” and it returns Bobby Sherman sites. Search for “Internet porn,” and you get photos of Julie Newmar in her Catwoman suit. Here’s a thought for the creators of Cranky.com: If people over 50 are cranky, maybe it's because people keep constantly reminding them they're over 50.

BTW, here's something that I bet surprised Jeff Taylor: at this writing, the #1 most-searched-for term at Cranky.com is..."sex." 

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Speaking of not judging people by their ages, here’s a lady after my own heart: Maria Milz, age 100, of Blankenheim, Germany, moved out of a retirement center and went home after just six weeks, complaining that it "was full of old people with gray hair," it was boring, and she's a night owl and they kept waking her up too early. She said, "Who do they think they are?" The last straw came when they tried to put a blue rinse on her day-glo pink Mohawk. A girl’s got to draw the line somewhere.

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From the “HA-ha!” Department”: Turns out 78 is the new 33. The music industry has been routinely ignoring people over 30 for years, but new research just revealed that people over 45 bought a quarter of all music sold last year, more than twice that of any other age group. Oops!

Elton John, Barry Manilow and Rod Stewart are not only huge in Vegas, they are again topping the charts (The greatest story of them all: Stewart was dropped by his longtime label for being too old to sell records, and his very next album after leaving them was a set of standards that became his biggest seller ever, followed by several mega-selling sequels). Even 80-year-old Tony Bennett (whom my late father used to accompany on sax)  sold nearly 650,000 copies of his new CD in three weeks.  It’s his hottest seller ever.

This sudden realization of the pocket power of non-fetal Americans prompted the American Association of Retired Persons to sponsor Bennett's concert tour, saying, "He proves that age is just a number and life is what you make it."

I love the sentiment, but why did it have to come from the AARP, which tries to lump people into a “senior” demographic the second they turn 50? I’d also like to point out that ironically, what Tony Bennett proves is that if you really want to stay young, never retire.

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The University of Texas at Austin found that standards of beauty are always changing, but one feature has remained constant for centuries: a slim waist. Studies of 300 years of literary descriptions of female beauty found wide variation of tastes in buttocks, legs, faces and other body parts. In other eras, today's skinny models with high cheekbones would've been considered ugly, rather than beautiful and malnourished. But across the centuries, narrow waists that give women hourglass figures have always been attractive to men, possibly because they're a sign of fertility. Or a sign that the woman isn’t already pregnant. Or that the grocery bill won’t be too high. Or maybe it’s just because they make your bust look bigger.

Question: If fertility makes women attractive, how come all of today's sex symbols are too skinny to ovulate?

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Here’s a gizmo the Olsen Twins will have to pick up: a new device called Accufat was recently unveiled at the Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas. It looks like a cell phone, but is billed as the world's first subcutaneous fat analyzer. That means it tells you when you’re getting fat, thus taking the workload off your mom, husband or boyfriend. It can tell you the fat count on any specific part of your body; for instance, you can monitor exactly how much fat is in your upper arms. Of course, you could do that for free just by applauding.

Don’t most of us already have a device that tells us when we’re getting fat? I believe it’s called “a mirror.”

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If you didn’t win the genetics lottery, here’s your chance to win a lotto lipo: British surgeons are protesting what is believed to be the world's first lottery to win free plastic surgery. Europa International of London is selling tickets for $3 each for a monthly drawing for $9,000 worth of facelifts, tummy tucks, boob jobs or other cosmetic procedures, to be performed in Prague. 

Britain's Association of Aesthetic Plastic Surgeons called it "appalling" to treat surgery so lightly, but Europa brushed that aside, saying the lottery winners will be treated like any other patients. Which makes sense, since all their patients come out looking exactly the same, anyway. And besides, most of their patients are lottery winners spending their jackpots on plastic surgery.

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I drink a lot of tea, so this is something I feel I should pass along before I have to run to the bathroom: Researchers at the University of Berlin announced that drinking black tea does improve blood flow and reduce the risk of stroke and heart disease, but if you put milk in your tea, it completely negates all the antioxidant benefits. So Britons should be dropping like flies.

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The Federal Trade Commission leveled a $25 million fine for false advertising on the makers of four diet pills - Xenadrine EFX, CortiSlim, One-a-Day WeightSmart and Trimspa (“Trim the budget, baby!”) The makers made a variety of dubious claims, including that the pills contained revolutionary new ingredients, led to swift and permanent weight loss, and reduced the risk of cancer and Alzheimer's. The FTC said many of the people in before-and-after photos were actually on rigorous diet and exercise programs, and that test subjects on a placebo lost more weight than those on Xenadrine EFX (that should boost the sales of Placebo).

They added that endorsements by celebrities such as Anna Nicole Smith are not a substitute for real science, no matter how much she reminds you of a science experiment gone horribly wrong. It might be tempting, but don’t assume that Anna Nicole has experimented with more drugs than the scientists have. A good rule of thumb is to remember that the only way a pill can guarantee you permanent weight loss is to kill you.

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On the other, more slender hand, the FDA has approved Pfizer Inc.'s new drug Stentrol, the first prescription weight-loss drug for dogs that get too little exercise and too many table scraps (and what else could possibly solve that problem besides a diet pill? Come on, dog owners: it’s not like they’re my parrots, who can pick up the phone and order a pizza.)

It's estimated that up to 30 percent of American dogs are overweight and 5 percent are obese, which means they’re still doing better than their owners. A university animal sciences professor told Bloomberg News that the pill would be helpful, but "it would be more helpful if people could feed their dogs less. That would be turning off the spigot instead of mopping the floor." (HINT: If you're constantly mopping the floor, you're giving your dog too much water.)

Personally, I can’t think of anything that those fashionably tiny, jittery, yappy mini-dogs need more than a fistful of uppers.

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Finally, if you enjoyed that Dove video about the miraculous lies of Photoshop, check this out.  Move your cursor on and off the photo to see the difference between reality and the impossible standards of beauty we're all expected to live up to.





Jan.  2, 2007

Happy New Year, everybody! 

Did you wake up on January 1 and say, "Drat, I'm another year older!"?  You shouldn't do that.  That's what birthdays are for.  

Okay, you shouldn't do that on your birthday, either.  On my birthday (December 4, by the way, never mind the year), I try to keep in mind that I'm a year younger than I'm going to be on my next  birthday, so there's no point in putting off anything I want to do. 

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When I got up this morning, I was greeted by a newspaper article that had been laid out for me in a can't-miss location by my ever-helpful husband.  The piece, by Sharon Waxman and distributed by The New York Times, was called "Naughtiness Goes Gray" and subtitled "Women over 40 are the hot new thing in porn films."  Women over 40: You've come a long way, baby.

The first thing that jumped out at me from the page was not that, gosh, women over 40 are doing porn.  This is no big news flash, even to someone like me who never watches porn.  You see, I already knew -- I make it my business to know these thhings -- that there has long existed an entire genre of "older-woman" porn; older women are considered a fetish -- you know, like chubbies, little boys and torture.  "Age" comprises a distinct category of porn created to enable young pervs to engage their lustful Freudian fantasies for mom and, yes, sometimes even grandma.  There are even "niche" porn magazines with titles such as "Women Over 50."  And, no, "50" in this context doesn't refer to the women's bust measurement, although it probably could.

You know what would be weird? If "Women Over 50" were actually being looked at by a man  over 50. Think that would ever happen? No, the man over 50 prefers magazines like "Barely Legal."

And I wonder: if some men like to wear women's silky panties, are the men who are attracted to their great-grandmothers getting their jollies by donning support hose and Depends?

Sorry.  Somebody has to think about these things.

Anyway, the first thing that jumped out at me from this story was not that "older" women are doing porn but that the headline writer automatically associated women over 40 with the word "gray."  That is really getting, pardon the expression, old.  Why didn't this writer just trot out the term "granny porn"?  Still, it does seem from this article that a few women over 40 are starting to turn up in regular porn, not fetish porn.  And that development, I suppose, is a kind of progress, if we define "progress" in extremely broad terms.

Perhaps this change was inevitable; I have to say that many, many women over 40 or 50 would look fantastic sharing the screen with the likes of male porn superstar Ron Jeremy and others.  Even when Jeremy was young (he's in his 50s now), he was proof that porn is designed for men, not women, to look at.  I really don't know of any woman who has a fetish for male porn stars so ugly they make Jon Lovitz look like Brad Pitt.  But isn't it nice to know that if I suddenly start dreaming of being a porn star, well, hey, there's still time!

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On a much classier note, I recently returned from a wonderful four days in Little Rock, where Michael Gott and I performed a version of our Cole Porter musical revue for the Governor's official state Christmas parties. The Governor's Mansion was beautifully decked out for the holidays, Michael looked dashing as usual in his tux (he should wear formal attire all the time, even to the gym), and I debuted a knockout sequined gown that unfortunately drove me crazy by repeatedly getting snagged in my long glove. (Now I know why they have dress rehearsals.)  The shows were elegant and fun, with classics like "Night And Day" and "Anything Goes" but also lesser-known gems like "The Tale Of The Oyster."

Gov. Mike Huckabee and the First Lady were fine hosts, inviting us to sit at their table for dinner each night, and the governor even invited us to a formal banquet taking place on the last night of our stay.  After the banquet, the party moved to a large meeting room next door, where the governor strapped on an electric bass and played rock n' roll with his surprisingly good band, Capitol Offense.  I twisted and shouted, and lost an earring on the dance floor. 

The staff of the Mansion could not have been nicer or more professional. They put us up at the famed Peabody Hotel in Little Rock, known for its twice-daily duck parade down the red carpet to and from the lobby fountain.  As I had had to leave my 15-member flock of parrots at home for this trip, and the separation anxiety was severe, I depended on those ducks for my daily bird "fix."

Just a note: After serving as governor of Arkansas since 1996, Gov. Huckabee is leaving office; he couldn't run for re-election this time because of term limits. He has been an extremely popular governor, named by Time magazine as one of the top five governors in the nation, and there's some buzz about him as a possible Presidential candidate. Though he didn't officially announce while we were there, he did say that he's contemplating a run for President.  Whatever your politics -- he's a moderate Republican popular with people in both parties -- I want you to know that my impression is that he is a really fine person.  Besides that, he is a model for taking control of one's health and fitness; check out his book, Quit Digging Your Grave With A Knife And Fork, chronicling his impressive 110-pound weight loss!  Unlike most politicians, he writes his own material, and he's really articulate and funny.  At the time the book came out, he even appeared on "Oprah." Having been on "Oprah" can be a good thing if one is running for President.  I'm sure Barak Obama would agree.

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I'm getting ready to go to the Las Vegas Comedy Festival and perform an excerpt from "My Ship Has Sailed." And I do mean "excerpt" -- Laura is about to have her seven minutes of fame. There will be a full report on the festival after I get back to Dallas.  In the meantime, I'm even more jazzed about some of the extracurricular activities I'm doing on my own, such as seeing Rita Rudner's show at Harrah's and ACTUALLY GETTING TO MEET HER!

Ms. Rudner is one of my comedy idols and has certainly influenced my comic style, so it's always a compliment when people say I remind them of her. (I hear this quite often, even from people who haven't seen me perform.) She makes me laugh with ease; her delivery is masterful.  If she hadn't blazed the trail, it might never have occurred to me that a feminine woman who works clean and doesn't come across as "one of the guys" could succeed as a standup, and I probably would have remained behind the scenes forever.  If you get out to Vegas, be sure to see her show.

All the best to you in the new year!  Keep Young And Beautiful!




Dec. 13, 2006

Sorry to go so long between blog posts, but we've been really swamped with getting ready for the shows in Little Rock and Las Vegas, among other things.  Here's a nice article about the Little Rock show from Lakewood-Now.

I found a great celebrity quote on age, from Sylvester Stallone, who talked to Newsweek about his decision to make another "Rocky" movie.  It's long, but worth reading...  If you'd like to share a news story or your own thoughts and observations about the pressure society puts on us all to "keep young and beautiful"or else, just drop me a line at laura@lauraainsworth.com.  
"A lot of people said, 'Just sit down, don't embarrass yourself'," Stallone says. "There is this incredible resistance to anyone who seems to want a second shot: 'You had your moment, now f--- off'."  "It nags me that I took the easy way instead of the high road," he says. "But everyone makes mistakes. I look around at people my age, and I can see it in their eyes--a kind of bittersweet reflection: 'I didn't live the life that I wanted, and now I've got all this stuff I want to say, but nobody wants to hear it.' I was feeling that, and if you don't get it out, it can become a beast that tears you apart.”

Over the years, Stallone often complained that he wasn't being allowed to grow beyond the "Rocky" movies. Still, he kept making them. Then "Rocky V," featuring a bankrupt Balboa, flopped. "It was my fault," he says. "Everything in it was dark and dismal. People came to that movie for uplift and I took them into a mine shaft and turned out the lights.”

“I don't understand aging gracefully," he says. "I'll always be at war with that. I'd rather age ungracefully, kicking and screaming. Don't hand me down my top hat and walking cane. You know, I went to speak at the AARP--did you know that starts at 50?--and I said, 'Yes, youth must be served. After us. And we're going back for seconds and thirds'.”






Nov. 20, 2006

More updates coming soon, I swear, but until then, you can celebrate the glorious news that the FDA has approved the return of silicone gel breast implants after a 14-year virtual ban (but only for women over 22...women under 22 are too immature to handle all the attention they'd be getting).  Of course, not everyone is happy about this news: one doctor called silicone implants "the most defective medical device the FDA has ever approved," but silicone breasts don't need his support, or any support, for that matter.  The chief of medical devices for the FDA said that years of research had found no proven link between the implants and disease, and he called silicone gel breast implants "one of the most extensively studied medical devices" of all time (they've been intensely studied in strip clubs, porn movies, Academy Award telecasts...).

I just think it's amazing that the Democrats were reelected to power less than two weeks ago, and already, big silicone breasts are back!  Man, that Ted Kennedy works fast. 



Oct. 31, 2006

Happy Halloween!  It's the one day of the year when nobody can accuse you of wearing too much makeup, so trowel it on if you like. 

It's been a very busy couple of weeks, so there hasn't been much time for blogging, but I have news piling up that I'll be adding shortly, and I might have some very exciting news of my own, as well.   In the meantime, I hope you'll make plans to join us for the live performance of "My Ship Has Sailed" this Friday at Stone Street Theatre in downtown Dallas. 

We are making this the best entertainment bargain in town!  Stone Street is experimenting with adding late shows, so my show on Friday will be followed by Gary Floyd and his band at 11.   Gary is an award-winning actor whom you've probably seen in various musicals around Dallas.  He was voted the "Best Theater Heartthrob" by the Dallas Observer, so you ladies will definitely want to hang around for his show. 

Then on Sunday, my friend Linda Leonard, a terrific singer/actress who has starred in musicals all over the place debuts her cabaret show "Legends" at 8, followed by eclectic Houston-area singer-songwriter Ken Gaines at 11. 

The early shows are just $15, the late shows are only $10, or pay $20 and stay to see both shows!  And as they say on Ronco commercials, "But wait!  There's more!"

We've made arrangements with Campisi's and the Iron Cactus to give you a 15% discount on food with your "My Ship Has Sailed" program, and it will be good through Saturday night.  So you can enjoy a snack after my show and come back for Gary, then return Saturday night and enjoy dinner before Linda's show.  And in between, you can step across the street and spend 12 hours in Neiman's.  Now, that's a weekend!  Hope to see you there!



Oct. 23, 2006

A couple of caveats before I get on the soapbox:

1) I love the Red Hat ladies here in Dallas; many of them have been enthusiastic members of my audience for MY SHIP HAS SAILED.

2) I HAVE ONLY READ ABOUT THE FOLLOWING SHOW. HAVEN’T SEEN IT.

That said, have you heard about the musical that just premiered at the New Denver Civic Theater, called “Hats! A New Musical For The Rest Of Your Life”? This is a huge project mounted by the combined forces of Mitchell Maxwell, president and CEO of Sibling Entertainment Group, Dick Foster Productions in Las Vegas and the casino company Harrah’s. They must have poured tons of money into this project because they hired some big names – including Melissa Manchester, one of my favorite singers – to write and direct. The plan is to put a staged version of “Hats!” in New Orleans early next year and then in casinos around the country. Apparently, somebody has just realized that over-50 women are not served by the entertainment industry (they’ve obviously never seen MY show, which I’ve been doing for three years), and Maxwell admits he “saw dollar signs” when he heard about the Red Hats.

My first reaction was, “Oh, my god, they’re doing something similar to MY SHIP HAS SAILED!” However, after reading the review, I realize that not only are they NOT doing MY SHIP, they are providing me with yet another example of the attitude towards age that I make fun of in MY SHIP.

It boils down to a basic difference in philosophy: I believe that we shouldn’t be defined by our age. “Hats!” believes that we should, and are. That chafes me, big-time.

Here’s the storyline, and, no, I am not making this up:

Mary Anne is about to turn 50, and she’s not happy about it. Then she meets a big-hearted, big-busted MaeWest marionette character named Ruby (for the Red Hats?) who symbolizes her “inner child” and introduces her to six Red Hat women with names like “Duchess DeLovely.” Each one tells the story of how she came to wear the red hat. They sing about their wrinkles, their attempts at weight control, their empty nests and their poor memories (though I assume the performers manage to remember their lyrics). By the end of the show, Mary Anne is assimilated. (Resistance is futile.) She is joyfully, fabulously 50.

Now, there’s nothing wrong with being 50, especially if you’re fabulous. In a way, I’m happy for Mary Anne because if she’s going to define herself by her age, at least she’s changed the definition to a positive one. But why put yourself into a category? You can have fun, feather boas and female companionship at any age. In fact, there’s a local women’s networking club called “Spark!” for women of all ages that sometimes does the tiara-and-feather-boa thing. It’s fun! I also know a few men in cabaret who get into this, too. But I digress.

Anyway, I feel very strongly that I do not want to put myself into a box. I truly want to be ageless  when it comes to the way I live my life.

Let me tell you what this reviewer – a man, John Moore, theater critic for the Denver Post – thought about the show. I think his reaction was similar to what mine would have been. On the one hand, he had to acknowledge that this show went over like gangbusters with its Red Hat audience. He went so far as to say, “That’s a real audience emitting real belly laughs and crying real tears, dancing, singing and celebrating. I have never seen an audience so affected in the course of watching theater.” Obviously, this show has a spirited, uplifing message that this underserved audience eats up with a spoon. And I heard one of the songs over the Internet; it was quite good.

On the other hand, Moore describes “Hats!” as “catharsis and cake. It’s a support group. It’s a costume party. It’s Friday-night bowling. It’s a revival. It’s a rite of passage. It’s therapy via platitudes (‘Grow up, not old!’ ‘If you settle for what you’ve got, you deserve what you get!’ and a dozen more.)” He said it "panders."

He calls it “an affirmative and joyful celebration of later womanhood, that just happens to be presented in a formulaic, simplistic and sentimental way that’s as garishly obvious as all those purple dresses in the audience.”

(NOTE TO RED HATS: Those are the reviewer’s words, not mine. Whatever my opinion of this show, I would never make fun of your clothes. Purple’s cool.)

Here are a few of the ways my show differs from “Hats!…etc…”

1) I don’t put people into categories by age. I want people of all ages to see this show, because “age” messages start really early, especially for women. And I believe that our life experiences shape us more than our chronological age does. For example, you can lose your job, start a fabulous career, go through a divorce, lose one or both parents, have a baby, get cancer, lose your sight or hearing (or hair), lose a child or even go through menopause before you’re even 30. Or you may be generally unscathed by life until many years later.

2) I do not pander. EVER!  My audience is smart, and I trust you to “get it.” We laugh a lot together, but I’m also trying to convey some complex ideas. We all have different lives and different ways of dealing with the particular stage that we as individuals are in.

3) My show is for men, too, and how they respond to their own birthdays. Men have more and more pressure on themselves to look young, fit and current.

4) My show is definitely not “Friday-night bowling.” It’s sophisticated and fun. My accompanists wear tuxedos. I dress like a diva. And, musically, I’d put us up against any show of any budget.

5) Women perhaps a little too young to get the red-hat thing (I think the words they’re using in advertising now are “thirtyish” and “fortyish”) will enjoy this show. Though I hate to look at people in terms of demographics, realistically, these are the women who may “get it” the most. They’re the ones being pressured now to keep every tiny line at bay.

The producers are wanting to put “Hats!” into casinos, but after reading about the show, I’m thinking Branson would be the perfect place for it. (Kathie Lee Gifford was one of the writers.) There’s one song lyric that actually says, and I am not kidding, “Fifty is the youth of old age.”

I admit that I’m taking this line out of context, but I can’t imagine a context that would change my gut reaction. “Fifty is the youth of old age.” Doesn’t that make you 50-year-olds out there feel GREAT?? How about you 70-year-olds? We can say “seventy is the vestibule of the nursing home.” FEEL BETTER NOW?!

See? I promised I wouldn’t pander! The irony is, I’m wanting to take my little one-person show to Las Vegas myself. If “Hats!” is there at the same time, I may have to bill myself as The Anti-Hat. My husband even suggested a new title: “Hats Off!”  But at the moment, I kind of like “Stick It In Your Hat!”





Oct. 20, 2006

SPECIAL REPORT! A VISIT TO THE DALLAS PLASTIC SURGERY EXPO!
(Or “Into the Beauty Jungle with Botox Gun and Camera”)

Whew! I almost missed the first-ever Dallas Plastic Surgery Expo, held a few weekends ago at the cavernous Market Hall. A large newspaper ad alerted me to this phenomenon just in time, and, of course, I immediately cleared my calendar, as it was time to set aside the frivolity for some serious research.

What a concept! I'd been to similar expos for home improvement and design, landscaping ideas, and even pet birds (I take in parrots in need of a home), but the idea of having one for midface rejuvenation and microdermabrasion seemed a bit surreal (although not dissimilar to the renovation expo). In retrospect, it appears to have been an inevitable development, at least for Dallas.

The most elaborate booths were for cosmetic surgery clinics. Huge monitors showed before-and-after pictures of noses, jawlines and breasts (some discreetly covering the nipples with black bars, others not). Dermatologists were also well represented. Surgeons and skin docs gave seminars throughout the day on such topics as breast augmentation (the most popular topic – with both women and men), rhinoplasty and Restylane. To his credit, one cosmetic surgeon even held a seminar on the things that can go wrong during a procedure.

There were surprised looks on the faces of some of the women working the booths, so I looked around to find out what was spooking them. Immediately, I realized that these women had seen absolutely nothing to warrant their looks of astonishment, which had instead been created and frozen into place by exaggerated browlifts and numerous syringes of Botox. If they had hoped to be living billboards for the miracle of cosmetic enhancement, they were just the opposite.

It's hard to know how much blame to give the doctors in such cases, at least for the Botox. I've discussed Botox with my dermatologist (though I haven't used it – honestly, and I say that with a completely straight face), and she tells me some patients say, "I want you to freeze everything!" This line is delivered not as a suggestion but as a command. She knows that if she doesn't make her clients happy, there are plenty of dermatologists who will. She explains to me that she does have some control over the level of paralysis - and that's what it is: PARALYSIS -- because it's partially determined by the placement of the needle. Fortunately, Botox does wear off, so, unlike a plastic surgeon doing an extreme browlift, she's not creating permanent disfigurement.

Still, with these perfectionist patients, the moment there's even the tiniest movement in the treated area, they're back for more injections. They have to spend every moment looking like a PhotoShopped picture - frozen in time, and just frozen, period. Some of these are very young people, too, and increasing numbers are men. My doctor told me about one very strange stepmom-and-stepson "couple" (?) who came in together and received thousands of dollars worth of Botox and fillers, leaving with perfectly smooth but totally immobile faces. I'm guessing they looked so much alike at that point that people would think not only that they were biologically mother and son, but that she had passed on some freakish genetic condition to him.

But I digress. There were other women working the booths who looked quite natural and lovely; it was only in the context of the event that I suspected they'd been somewhat lifted and Botoxed. Some would say that even this kinder-and-gentler improvement is somehow dishonest, but I have no problem with subtly softening nature's onslaughts. It's no more dishonest than whitening your teeth, getting highlights, lasering off that old tattoo of your ex-husband's name or using concealer to cover a pimple. As I try to convey in my show, we live in a world where people are evaluated and categorized by their youth and beauty, or lack thereof. Each of us has to decide how far we should reasonably go to deal with that reality. And any cosmetic procedure, along with one's choice of the doctor who performs it, should be very, very  carefully considered. With surgical alteration, you can't go back.

The expo also included booths for vein therapy, antioxidant drinks, a variety of treatments such as Thermage and different types of lasers, a vibrating machine that's supposed to exercise and tone the body (used by Madonna! Write your own giant vibrator joke), and numerous new skincare lines. Yes, every week there are new skincare lines. If these products did what they claimed, why would we keep needing new ones? I think that, at this point, there must be enough skincare lines for each woman in America to have two or three of her very own, but still they come. Several skincare booths at the expo had samples for me to take home and try.

But I'm a hard sell. As you know if you've seen my show, I worship Dr. Perricone. Literally -- I sing an aria in his praise. Of course, Dr. Perricone does have some very expensive products, but I use only a few of the basic ones. (I'll have to reach my goal of becoming an international superstar - any day now! -- before I can afford the neuropeptide serum.) My advice to you: instead of buying every pricey new "anti-aging" cream that comes along, go with the beauty-from-the-inside approach. Eat lots of wild salmon and fresh vegetables, and avoid sugar and the other carbs that send blood glucose levels soaring. Put junk food into some other category that isn't food at all. Buy industrial-strength sunscreen by the case and use it all the time. Drink water or tea instead of diet soda. I also recommend weight training, which I've been doing for about a year now, and trying to avoid stress (yeah, I know, but try). Also, you should discourage wrinkle-formation by refusing to wear painful shoes no matter how hot-looking they are. Also, I've finally realized that's it's necessary to get enough sleep. Try it!

Okay, that's my book of beauty secrets, which I guess is really more of a pamphlet. But they work; my body is in better shape now than it was when I was 25, I have much more energy -- including mental energy -- than before, my friends say I'm "thriving," and my skin, though not flawless, has a radiance that is absolutely not achievable with some $300 "Botox-In-A-Tube."

Important note: "Botox-In-A-Tube" doesn't fulfill its claims even if the tube is shaped like a syringe. Marketers package their products like this because they think you have the I.Q. of a lawn chair. I have tested some of these products myself and have read research on their active ingredients. If any topical skincare product promises to do what Botox and Restylane do, it is a sham, a scam and a total ripoff of money better spent on, well, Botox and Restylane, as long as they're done very sparingly and you don't mind pain. If you prefer to avoid pain, as I generally do, spend the money on wild salmon and the best sunscreen you can find. Then, relax a bit about the whole thing. I think the injection we'd benefit from the most would be the one that immunizes us against the tactics of professional marketers.

Anyway, there were LOTS of new products at the expo. Afterwards, I tried a sample of one new line for three days -- the trial was supposed to go for four days -- before running back to Perricone. The skin around my eyes was looking a little less firm (egad!) and I had a large zit in the chin-jawline area. Also, the full regimen was very involved - six steps in the morning, six at night! Are they kidding?

The expo seemed to be well attended, so I anticipate an even bigger one next year. If you ever go, remember that having a fancy booth and sophisticated marketing does not mean a doctor or product is the right or healthy choice for you. In fact, there was one person at this event about whom a plastic surgeon friend of mine confided to me once...Well, I'd better not repeat what he said.  I might get sued, and then I really wouldn't be able to afford Perricone products. 

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Moving on...Oprah's October issue is entitled "AGE BRILLIANTLY!" (Coincidentally, her October 2005 issue was entitled 'AGE BRILLIANTLY!"  So if you read that, you're now a year older, and therefore, a year more brilliant).  There's so much information and insight here that you should just get the magazine and read it for yourself. That said, I have my usual quibble: obsession with "the number," one's numerical age. Warning: You're going to be reminded on virtually every page of this magazine what your age is, and what every other woman's age is, as if that number were the most important thing in the world, the one huge, all-encompassing, self-defining thing. Even on the fashion pages, the ages of all the celebrity models are given right after their names, as if this information were part of their identification, like "Jr." 

On page 300, Oprah advises that we not deny our age or try to hide it, yet the magazine overflows with ads for anti-aging products. I say not being obsessed with one's own age and deciding not to turn it into a huge deal is very different from denying it. Dear Oprah, I wish I could sit down and have a heartfelt conversation with you about what it means to practice the art of living agelessly.

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I recently attended a book-signing in far North Dallas for Robin McGraw, wife of "Dr. Phil" McGraw, and bought her new book, Inside My Heart. She really does write from the heart, and she fosters that same concept of beauty-from-the-inside. Her own mother died suddenly in her 50s - while Robin was on the phone with her, in fact - so she made the decision to care for herself so that she'd be around for a long time. She encourages women to research healthcare issues (especially as they relate to menopause), trust their instincts when they think a doctor might be wrong, and insist on mammograms, bone-density scans and other important tests. She does not mention that for some of us, these tests can be prohibitively expensive, but she's right that we should do all that we possibly can to safeguard our health.

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Finally, here's something fun: If you enjoyed the movie "Calendar Girls," you'll appreciate the story about the Froncysyllte Male Voice Choir of Wales. These singers, with a combined age of 3,974 years (or as O magazine would identify them, "The Choir, 3,974,..."), were recently discovered by Daniel Glatman, who, ironically, managed the boy band Blue. Glatman attended a wedding a reception at which they happened to be performing.  Now they've been signed to a major record label, and their story has been optioned by British movie producer Zygi Kamasa, who also produced "Bend It Like Beckham." On November 20, their first record comes out. It's called "Voices Of The Valley," and it proves that it's never too late to make it big EVEN IN THE MUSIC BUSINESS!!



Oct. 16, 2006

Before I start dishing the news, you must see the new video from Dove's Campaign for Real Beauty.  It shows a perfectly normal, attractive young woman being lighted, made up, made over, then completely remade by PhotoShop before her perfect (and now, impossible to attain) face appears on a billboard.  The slogan is "No wonder our perception of beauty is distorted."   Bravo! 

This same theme appeared last week on ABC's "Ugly Betty," which is so popular, ABC just picked it up for a full season.  The plot involved the magazine where Betty works insisting on Photoshopping pictures of an actress who Betty thought looked beautiful already.  But the editor said the magazine isn't about natural beauty; it was "aspirational."  That is, it gave girls images to aspire to, even if they could never look that way because nobody can! 

I sincerely hope that all this media exposure of Photoshopped images and all the protests that have suddenly erupted about anorexic models signal a trend away from some of our sicker excesses about looks and beauty.  But I won't hold my breath.  It makes the cheeks look puffy.

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A study by the Berlei bra company found that Australian women's breasts are getting bigger. Experts believe it's caused by changes in diet and more women taking the pill (implants couldn’t have anything to do with it, I’m sure). A company spokeswoman said bra makers need to offer larger sizes, and for the first time, sports bras now come in E and F cup sizes. The most popular sport in Australia: "Watching women jog."

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From the “Never let age keep you from pursuing your career; or 83 is the new 23” file comes this story:

Police in Arizona arrested an 83-year-old American woman who was entering the US from Mexico with two Mexican nationals and 10 pounds of methamphetamines strapped to her body. Of course, if she’s a meth user, its possible she was 30 and just looks 83.

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The London Sun reports that Playboy founder Hugh Hefner says that at age 80, he's bored with sex and has found another pastime. He cut down from seven girlfriends to three in 1997 and says he no longer has the energy for all that sex. He said, "I'm bored of the hanky panky. I'm still active, but it's different. I like to play dominoes with my girlfriends." And believe it or not, that doesn’t mean he lines them up and pushes them over on top of each other. No, he actually plays dominoes with them. Well, what else is he going to do? Have a conversation with them?

Of course, he could always play dominoes with women his own age. But he won’t.

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Here are two stories from the “Secrets of Longevity” Dept.

First up is Ram Rati, an 80-year-old grandmother from Chinhar, India, who says the secret of her long, healthy life is that she eats over three pounds of sand a day. She said she tried it for fun when she was young, got used to it, and now eats sand before breakfast, lunch and afternoon tea. Her granddaughter said the doctor told them that if she has no health problems, then let her eat it. And her health isn’t eroding: she’s still round, firm and fully-packed. Her only sign of age is that her voice is pretty gravely.

Also, Cuban Benito Martinez, who unofficially claimed to be the world's oldest man, has died at 126, although he could never find the records to prove it. He credited his longevity to hard work (he tended his garden and went dancing almost to the end), fresh vegetables (now we know he was a liar: he was a bachelor who claimed to eat fresh vegetables), not too many cigars, a little alcohol, and never getting married. I suppose that would’ve been too much work. On the other hand, if he’d had a wife, I bet she would’ve known where his birth certificate was.

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Finally, my favorite story of the week. If you want to be young again, just move to Kenya: Their Youth Affairs Minister has proposed changing the legal definition of “youth from "anyone aged 15 to 30" to "anyone aged 15 to 50." It would enable more people to apply for benefits from a recently-established government "youth fund." Since the official retirement age there is 55, you could officially be a "youth" until five years before retirement!   It's like playing a high school student on "Beverly Hills 90210!"  At the rate Kenya is redefining “youth,” you’ll soon be able to go all the way from your first childhood to your second childhood without ever having to make a layover in “adulthood.” And then, we will have truly achieved Paradise on Earth.




Oct. 6, 2006

Sorry the postings are coming so slow.  It's not for lack of material, it's just that my husband Pat, who is the webmaster and does all the loading and links, has been swamped with tax filings for Oct. 15 and various outside projects.  But he has a little time tonight, so I dumped some material on him.  Here goes...

First of all, thanks so much to everyone who came out to the Cole Porter show on Sept. 22!  And thanks especially to Joseph Melnicoff, the critic for BroadwayWorld.com, who gave us a flat-out rave!  Michael and I were very grateful and glad everyone liked the show.  We plan to bring it back to Stone Street Theatre soon, and we are getting offers from other venues.  I'll post them here as soon as they're set.  Meanwhile, I hope you'll join me at Stone Street Theatre on Friday Nov. 3, when Brian Piper and I will present "My Ship Has Sailed."  This is the first time we've done it there, so please come on out for a great night of dining and entertainment and discover all the great things happening downtown!

On to other topics:  Did you catch Oprah on Thursday?  It was called "Great Women and Their Anti-Aging Secrets" or "how to age brilliantly!"  (That is not a reference to the blinding light from all the birthday candles.)  Dianne Carroll,  Geena Davis and Nora Ephron were the guests, all talking about how they cope with aging.  It was an interesting show, but one thing bothered me: all the guests were people who'd had great success at a young age and were now talking about their career obstacles over 40, 50 or 60.  I know their problems are real, but they already had wealth and fame to help them overcome them.  It would've been nice to hear from some women who hadn't had great success early on as a launching pad and who were trying to establish a new career when they were already over 40 or whatever.  Surely, there must be a few of those somewhere...

I wrote down a few quotes from this show (Dianne Carroll:  "I want the world to know I believe in plastic surgery!  Oh God, yes!  Wouldn't be without it!") and might write more about this later on.  For now, let's check out some news...

Cuba has a large number of people who have lived to over 100, so they were asked to share their secrets of a long life.   To sum up:  they eat a healthy diet, with lots of fish and veggies, little salt and natural seasonings... They work hard and stay active physically and mentally...They drink alcohol, but in moderation...and they really enjoy coffee, cigars and sex.  Please don't ask me if they enjoy the cigars and the sex at the same time; I don't want to think about it.  But it sounds as if the Cuban secret to a long life is very similar to George Burns' formula. 


Here's another story about a pharmaceutical maker, this time in Germany, warning people not to rub hemmorroid cream on their eyes to reduce puffiness.   I keep telling you, people: "Use as directed!"

Also in Germany, a plastic surgeon in Cologne was cheated by several women who got $10,000 breast implant surgery (those must've been some big implants!  Either that, or they were filled with money instead of silicone), then never returned to pay their bills.  He later found out they'd given him fake names.  He never imagined that women who'd get breast implants would put up a false front. 

He now demands cash in advance for breast implants (or "up-front money"), but to try to recover his losses, he created a poster for the police showing photos of the bare, enlarged breasts of the patients, in hopes someone (likely a strip club customer) will recognize them.  The Bild newspaper helpfully printed a five-column photo of the wanted poster, which the surgeon could probably sell and make more money than he lost.  The police are on the lookout (the strenuous lookout), and are eagerly anticipating the line-up, which will have a $10 cover charge and a two-drink minimum.

Finally, as long as we're on the subject of implants, Bulgaria's Standart newspaper reports that a woman in the town of Ruse drove through a red light, crashed into a car and totaled both vehicles.  But her life was saved because her silicone breast implants acted as airbags (she must've bought the Pamela Anderson size).  On the minus side, her implants burst from the impact, but luckily, her car insurance covers replacement of factory-made parts.

There's lots more news, but that's all we have time to post at the moment.  I also still need to write about my trip to the Cosmetic Surgery Expo, and since the Dallas Morning News never printed it, I'll post my response to their "Desperate Grannies" article.  Check back tomorrow!  Until then...

"Keep young and beautiful!"

 


Sept. 20, 2006

Busy, busy, busy recently.  I have news piling up, and I swear I'll get it on here as soon as there's a spare minute.  In the meantime, here's some great news about the Cole Porter show coming up Friday, Sept 22:

We made a deal with Campisi's Italian restaurant and the Iron Cactus Tex-Mex restaurant to give you a discount  when you attend our Cole Porter show!  There will be an ad on the back of the program.  Just take the program with you after the show and enjoy 15% off your late dinner or snack (beverages not included).  Or come back to Stone Street Theatre Saturday night for the Pavlov's Dogs improv comedy troupe and use the discount before or after the show.  It's good through Saturday night!   We hope this will encourage you to come down and discover the revitalized downtown Dallas area with its cool shops, lots of great restaurants, and (ahem!) terrific entertainment!


And now, one quick news item on age to hold you until I can get past the show and blog a little more:

The number of people over 100 in Japan has quadrupled in the past 10 years, and the world's oldest woman and oldest man are now both Japanese.  This amazing longevitiy is attributed to their healthy seafood and vegetable diet, their excellent health care, and a steep fall-off in Godzilla attacks.

(Okay, that was my husband's joke.  Direct your brickbats at him.  I have to go rehearse now...)



Sept. 8, 2006

Just a quick note to let you know that this weekend, the Cosmetic Surgery Expo is at Market Hall in Dallas.  I'll be heading over there myself, just for research purposes, of course.  If you've been thinking about getting anything nipped, tucked, lifted, sucked, beached or sandblasted,  here's your chance to find out a lot more about it at no charge.  And before you do anything like that, you must learn everything you can about the risks!  CLICK HERE for more info. 

Also, some sad news: due to an ongoing lawsuit and a bad bankruptcy ruling, Jeroboam restaurant in downtown Dallas had to abruptly close its doors.  It was one of our favorite "fancy, elegant" places, and one we recommended to anyone coming to the Cole Porter show.  We were even working on a dinner and show package with them, so it's very unwelcome news.   Still, there are many other great restaurants in the same block with the theatre, so you'll have lots of choices, whether you want dinner before the show or a late snack and nightcap afterward.   For a few suggestions, scroll down to the July 17 entry...




Sept. 5, 2006

Sorry to go so long between blog postings, but it’s been a very hectic month between performing private shows and preparing a new show, plus my husband Pat, who is the webmaster who posts these things, is up to his neck in doing the taxes that he put off until September 15 from August 15, after putting them off from April 15. I’d ask him to put them off again and spend more time on this website, but if he goes to prison, the blog postings might actually be even slower. Anyway, there’s lots of stuff piled up, so I’ll have to give it to you in several doses over the next few days.

But business first: Please make your reservations early for the Cole Porter show coming up on Sept. 22 at Stone Street Theatre. The first time we did this show, it sold out and late callers and arrivals had to be turned away. We don’t want that happening to you, so please RSVP soon at 469-619-2609.

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No word back yet from the Dallas Morning News about the response I wrote to the “Desperate Grannies” article. If I don’t hear from them soon, I’ll just post it here, so keep checking back.

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We met a terrific cabaret singer/songwriter, D.C. Anderson, during his stopover in Dallas with the national touring company of “Phantom,” and he just sent us all his CDs to see which of his humorous songs we can tout to clients of our Comedy Wire radio service. Pat has been too swamped to review them yet, but I promise he will very soon, D.C.  In the meantime, you should check out D.C. Anderson for yourself. What a fantastic talent!

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And now a little news and commentary from the age and beauty front…

It seems that Salma Hayek has turned 40. I know this because it’s worthy of a news story and headline on the British Ananova.com news site. Naturally, it’s phrased in that obnoxious, gushing-yet-patronizing tone of all Fleet Street tabloid reporters, and it includes a rundown of several other old hags (Sarah Jessica Parker, Liz Hurley, etc.) who are still miraculously managing to look reasonably tolerable, despite having “stepped into middle age.” Now, I understand why they outlawed guns in the UK: to keep celebrities over the age of 30 from shooting all the gossip reporters. I wonder what these condescending nitwits, who are stunned that celebrities can still control their bladders past the age of 39 (Ozzy Osbourne excepted), would think of the following stories?…


The oldest man in California has died at 112, and doctors are baffled as to how he lived so long. He had lots of bad habits, ate nothing but waffles and sausages, and an autopsy showed his organs looked like those of a 50-year-old. A doctor said it shows that genes might be more important than good habits (although to be fair, I hear he did quit smoking at 102). Or maybe it just shows that we should all be eating lots of waffles.

Britain’s oldest worker, mechanic Buster Martin, who maintains a fleet of plumbing vans, had to be ordered by his bosses to take his 100th birthday off. He tried to retire once, but got bored and went back to work. He said, "Boredom is a big killer. I went back to work as I like to keep active. If I didn't work, I would become the most miserable sod you have ever come across, so I don't want to stop working." He finally agreed to take his 100th birthday off, but he insists on working on his next 100th birthday.


And now, my “Heroines Of The Day”: First, a profile of Doris Eaton Travis, the 102-year-old former Ziegfeld Girl who has been dancing on stage since 1911 and is still dancing. She must be exhausted by now. 

And my second heroine, Betty Horton of Utah, who is 75 and who chased down a fortysomething man who snatched her purse, chewed him out, threatened to shoot him, took her purse back from him and told him to “get the heck out of here.” She added, “Good thing I had my running shoes on.” I think this story gives eloquent testimony to how fit and capable a 75-year-old woman can be, and what lousy shape most fortysomething men are in.

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I have lots more news to post, so check back soon. But I want to close by clearing out some of the celebrity quotes on age and beauty that I’ve been stockpiling in recent weeks…

First up, Sally Field comments to Ladies’ Home Journal on what it’s like to be approaching 60:

"We’re supposed to be embarrassed now that our waists are thickening and our chins are drooping. I just feel really p---ed off about that!"


Next, actress Lili Taylor comments on plastic surgery in Women’s Health magazine:

“It’s getting to the point where I wonder if we’re going to even know what an older woman looks like. It’s really upsetting and disturbing to me on so many levels. In 10 or 15 years, it’s going to be really scary because then we’re going to see what happens after you’ve had all this plastic surgery. We all know it doesn’t get better, it gets worse.”

Personally, I’m not worried. In 10 or 15 years, I’m counting on science having perfected the technology of transplanting our brains into the cloned bodies of 21-year-old runway models.


Here’s a longer quote, from last week’s Emmy winner (and Gwyneth Paltrow’s mom), Blythe Danner, expounding on the actress’ curse of wrinkles in a high tech age:

“I wasn’t terribly conscious of it until we did ‘Huff’ and they used this dreadful high-definition which makes anybody over fifty look as if they are eighty. So, I got very self-conscious about that. Yes - we all get a little help, a little bit of this or that...not tremendous amounts, and I hate the idea of doing real invasive stuff, and I am not trying to look 40, because there were some shots on ‘Huff’ I was just appalled. I don’t think I am terribly narcissistic, but you don’t want to look your worst.”

I think high-definition cameras were invented to make everyone look their worst. Why do TV viewers want to see people’s skin pores anyway? Was there ever a poll that said we wanted  to see Andy Rooney’s eyebrow shrubbery in minute detail? I say let’s bring back the good old days, when they showed respect for veteran actresses by filming them through a camera lens slathered in Vaseline and covered in three layers of cheesecloth!


Finally, a quote from former President Bill Clinton, on the fact that he just turned 60:

“I hate it, but it's true. For most of my working life, I was the youngest person doing what I was doing. Then one day I woke up, and I was the oldest person in every room."

I feel your pain, Mr. Clinton, but I have a hard time believing your story. I have a feeling that for most of his life, wherever the heck Bill Clinton happened to wake up, the person in the room with him was probably younger than he was.




Aug. 8, 2006

A few quick items of interest...

First of all, an interesting article with some great points and a horrible title: “Desperate Grannies.” I have submitted a guest reply editorial to the Dallas Morning News and will let you all know if it’s accepted, so read the original yourself and stay tuned. This ain’t over!!

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Jeff Taylor, founder of the job site Monster.com, has launched Eons.com, which is similar to MySpace, except for people 50-plus. It has news on entertainment and hobbies for older people, tips on living longer, a personalized longevity calendar, games to build brain strength (no job listings, of course, since there are no jobs for people over 50), and a charming emphasis on death. Noting that the death rate in the US is projected to nearly double to 4.1 million annually by 2040 (silly me, I thought it would always be one per person), Taylor told Reuters, "The death business is growing" (in fact, Monster.com is now nothing but a list of jobs at funeral parlors.) Eons.com will offer plans for a do-it-yourself funeral service and an online obituary database that alerts you when someone you might know dies (“Welcome! You have 475 messages!")

Personally, it sounds to me as if people over 50 can build their brain strength by never, ever visiting this site. But if you must, then click here. I warn you, though: the VERY FIRST THING they ask you to fill in is your date of birth, so they'll know your age. So don’t expect to find me hanging out there.


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From the “All Is Vanity” desk comes this story: Embarrassing school photos may become a thing of the past in Australia, where the National School Photography service is offering to use PhotoShop digital retouching to remove pimples, scratches, scars, blemishes, Dutch rubs and other childhood imperfections for an $8 extra fee (just like they do to fashion models!)  If your kid has really bad acne, they'll even go the extra mile and clear it up for no extra charge (it may take until next year to finish, but they’ll do it).

The owner said parents demanded it because kids are surrounded with media images of beautiful people and have become very looks-conscious. Parents tell the photographers that the pimple won't be there in 20 years anyway, so it's not a part of their kids’ permanent personality, therefore they don't see why they should have to look at it forever in a yearbook photo.  Although with some pimples, they might want to wait 20 years to make sure of that.

But hey, why stop there? Parents hope those tattoos won’t still be around in 20 years, so remove them, too! Same for the piercings! And in 20 years, the girls expect they’ll have new noses, breast implants and collagen lips, so why not add them to the photos now so they’ll match in the future?

Personally, I don’t think you can really call yourself an adult until you have a school yearbook photo in the closet that you’d be humiliated for anyone to see. If they can’t use PhotoShop to remove bad perms and polyester, then I don’t see why today's kids should get a free ride. Let them suffer like the rest of us, who would be grateful if our school yearbook photos looked just one-tenth as good as Mel Gibson’s mugshot.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go start a new business, digitally retouching baby photos to make every baby look like Shiloh Nouvel Jolie-Pitt.




Aug. 6, 2006

Sorry to have been away so long.  I have some stuff to add, but our phone/DSL service has been out for nearly a week.   It took AT&T three tries to track down the two, count 'em, two, shorts in our phone line, probably caused by the intense heat melting off the insulaiton.  As soon as we catch up on our backlog of work, I will upload some material here.  Check back soon! 


July 22, 2006

Thank you so much to everyone who came out to the Cole Porter show last night!  Bryan, the co-owner of the theater, told us that we have the honor of being the first act since the theater opened to SELL OUT THE PLACE!  They were actually having to bring in extra chairs to handle the overflow!   The audience was wonderful, and it was great to able to visit with so many other Cole Porter fanatics before and after the show.  And to the very nice gentlemen who gave us the cards: sorry we didn't know the number from "Can-Can," but I hope you enjoyed "Let's Misbehave," which I saw was on your wish list.

As always with a new show, we had a few minor glitches.  At one point, a marimba band began playing in Campisi's below, and the audience could hear them in the back, although we couldn't hear them on stage  (if we had, I guess we could've segued into "Katie Went To Haiti").  Bryan got them to hold their set until our show ended, and they'll try to synchronize schedules better in the future, now that they know the sound bleeds through.   Also, at one point, my monitor went out when I was singing a very difficult harmony part and suddenly, I couldn't hear myself at all.  I hope I was in the ballpark with those notes, because I have no idea.  Thank goodness, it came back on after a minute or so.  But I remembered all the words of "The Physician," and in the right order no less, so I have no right sending any complaint letters to God. 

We've also decided that even though the show runs a bit longer than the standard New York cabaret show, everyone was asking for more, so we're going to add some more songs and stories for the next performance.  That will be on September 22, and you can click here for info.   Don't get locked out of the next one; make your reservations early!   

Thank you again to everyone who came out, and please tell your friends (tell your enemies, too; we'll perform for anybody) about the Sept. 22 show.  Sorry the August show we had started to advertise had to be canceled, but the theatre had a booking conflict.   Now that we've gotten our feet wet, the next show will be even bigger and better, so mark your calendars and come see us.

And now, I'm too exhausted to write any more, so I'll turn it over to David Letterman's writers.  Here are the "Top 10 Signs You Chose A Bad Plastic Surgeon..."

 


July 21, 2006

No time for blogging, just a reminder that the Cole Porter show debuts tonight at Stone Street Theatre in downtown Dallas!  The theater is filling up fast, so please call for reservations now!  Info on restaurants is below, and theater info and directions can be found here.  And please dress up (trust me, Michael and I will be).  Let's all put on our fancy duds and have an elegant evening together.   See you tonight!



July 17, 2006

Since the Cole Porter show is just five days away, and it's intended to be a great date show, I thought I'd give you some tips on where to go before or after the show.  First of all, don't be afraid to go downtown: the current crime story in the news took place among morons at a private bar party after 2 a.m.  Drunken idiots can come out anywhere that has bars closing at 2 a.m.  The Stone Street Theatre is in a very nice part of town, right across Main from Neiman's, surrounded by casual and upscale restaurants, with valet parking available on the Main Street side.  Pat and I go there all the time; in fact, we've eaten dinner there three times in the past week, and had a great time at every place.  A few of your pre- or post-show dining choices (with links to Weekend Guide info on each:

(Jeroboam info regretfully deleted)

Also romantic but less expensive and with outstanding Italian food is Porta di Roma.  Best of all, the friendly server was incredibly accommodating of my Perricone-diet-inspired requests, substituting grilled vegetables for pasta, grilled chicken for breaded chicken, etc.  (and no, I didn't order salmon substituted for dessert).

If you're in more of a Mexican food mood, one of our favorite places in town is The Iron Cactus, right across Main from Stone Street.  Great casual atmosphere and delicious food (we disagree with the Guide reviewer on this one, and we are definitely connoisseurs of Tex Mex).

The theatre is on the second floor directly above several other fine restaurants, including the Thomas & Leggett Tavern and Campisi's pizza and Italian.  There are actually more great places than we've had time to visit, and all are within a few steps of the theater, so let the valet take your car and make a night of it.   In fact, if you really want to arrive in a good mood, spend the day shopping at Neiman's, and then make a night of it. 

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And now, a little news...

Did you hear the story about the Aloha, Oregon, woman whose neighbors called police to get her to turn down the noise, and afterward, she called 911 herself just to get the cop who'd warned her to come back?  She told the dispatcher, "He's the cutest cop I've seen in a long time.  I just want to know his name.  Heck, it doesn't come very often a good man comes to your doorstep."  Asked to clarify the nature of her call, she replied, "Honey, I'm just going to be honest with you, okay?  I just thought he was cute.  I'm 45 years old, and I'd just like to meet him again, but I don't know how to go about doing that without calling 911.  I know this is absolutely not in any way, shape or form an emergency, but if you would give the officer my phone number and ask him to come back, would you mind?" 

Well, the officer came back...and cited her for abusing the 911 system.  She could face thousands of dollars in fines and up to a year in jail (I hope a jail with a cute warden). 

If I were her lawyer, I'd argue that she'd been reading a lot of women's magazines and thought that being an unmarried woman over 40 really did constitute an emergency. 

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In an update on the story below about ever-shrinking celebrities, Anna Kournikova has declared, with Nicole Richie and Keira Knightley-like firmness, that she does not have an eating disorder.  She told Elle magazine that since she stopped playing tennis professionally, she isn't training so intensely and has simply lost bulk.  Sure, we all know how that goes: stop exercising and the fat disappears from your body.  We've all been there, girlfriend!

In a somewhat related story, the Mayo Clinic found that women suffering dementia experience weight loss starting up to 10 years before it sets in.   This would explain a lot of Hollywood actresses and fashion models and possibly one poor demented model who thinks she used to be a professional tennis player.

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Finally, I caught a couple of movies on DVD and TV over the weekend, and each had a great quote to share.  From "Memoirs Of A Geisha":


"Agony and beauty for us live side-by-side."


I think we all can relate to that.  And from the older movie "School Ties," Brendan Fraser, playing a prep school freshman, remarked on a fellow student who suffered a nervous breakdown:


"I've heard of nervous breakdowns, you know, but I always thought they happened to women who were 40 years old." 


When I heard that attitude, I almost had a nervous breakdown.




July 14, 2006

Next week's Us Weekly cover will ask, "When does slender become anorexic?" and focus on the alarming trend of such already size-zero stars as Anna Kournikova, Kate Bosworth and Keira Knightley (I think she’s now a sub-zero, which means she’s always cold) withering away to ever-more desiccated proportions. The editor said, "Stars are just getting smaller and smaller," and their influence is harming kids. A survey shows 80 percent of 10-year-old girls are afraid of being fat, mostly because they compare themselves to celebrities. Or more likely because 80 percent of 10-year-old girls actually weigh more than Keira Knightley. As do 55 percent of all four-year-olds.  (It's possible I might have made those last two statistics up, but that doesn't mean they aren't true.)

The sickest part of this story: pro-anorexia websites are springing up that show girls' attempts to keep up with skeletal celebrities who provide them with "thinspiration." A European study found that teenagers with no history of eating disorders suffered a big drop in self-esteem after looking at the websites for just 25 minutes. Not to mention a big drop in I.Q. points.

By the way, don’t you love the cutesy “Sex & The City”-style attempt to create a catchy new buzz word (“thinspiration!”) to describe a horrifyingly sick trend? I hope that whoever thought it up has to spend an eternity in Purge-atory.

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Speaking of sick, the AskMen.com website is taking a poll on which extremely siliconed sex symbol - Pamela Anderson, Jordan or Cindy Margolis - is the hottest "Plastic Surgery Babe."   If this is what the men of AskMen.com are thinking, I'm sorry I asked.  I notice, though, that the three hottest searches on that site are for "Workout Routine," "Stop Hair Loss" and "Six Pack Abs," so I doubt the guys who frequent that site would be too interested in a poll on which surgically-unaltered woman is the most scintillating conversationalist.

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You know how much I love a good celebrity quote (or a bad one) on age or beauty, and I just found one of each: The bad first, from fashion forecaster David Wolfe:


"The worst mistake women of a certain age can make is trying to dress young. I call it 'mutton dressed as lamb.'"


I'll bet he doesn't call it that to the women's faces, or else he'd get a mutton chop in the kisser. While I go try on some low-rise jeans, I'll let you wash that statement out of your brains with a great quote from Maya Angelou, for everyone who lets regrets about what they did or didn't do when they were a stupid kid prevent them from pursuing their dreams today:


"You did what you knew how to do -- and when you knew better, you did better."


And think how much better you'll do once you're old enough to have done both!




July 13, 2006

Thank you so much to everyone who came out to the show on Wednesday!  We had a surprisingly big crowd, and everyone was really nice and seemed to get into the show.  Sorry about the rough edges, but with Brian suddenly being called away, the musicians and I had just ONE afternoon of rehearsal, and this is not an easy show to play!  But the people who stayed to talk with me afterward understood and enjoyed it anyway, thank goodness.  I'm an exhausted wreck, but the audience seemed to like it, so that's all that matters.  I LIVE FOR MY FANS!!!

For those of you who weren't there, I did the first half of the show in a gold sequined dress I've never worn on stage before, with gold jewelry, gold shoes and gold elbow-length gloves.  I told the audience that I was dressed as the Emmy Award Hugh Laurie of "House" should've been nominated for.  Today came word that Hugh Laurie has renegotiated his contract and will be paid $300,000 an episode.  I like to think that I somehow had something to do with that.  To thank me, he can send me a mere five percent.

If you picked up the program from the Pocket Sandwich show, you'll notice the ad in it for the upcoming Cole Porter show, which says it opens July 21 at Stone Street Theatre and returns Aug. 19.  We got word today that the theatre wants to reschedule the August show because a play is coming in and needs that whole weekend.  They offered us the option of doing a 10:30 show, but we didn't want to start that late.  We are working on nailing down another date in September, but please come to the July 21 opening night, and we'll keep you posted on when the next one will be. 

Another nice surprise: if you have today's Dallas Morning News, check out the Guide section, and the part on top of the page called "Over The Top."  There's a little write-up about the Cole Porter show and a picture, which was a surprise and a thrill for us!  I told Michael Gott that this means we have to make the show over the top, and if you saw my wardrobe last night, you know I can do that.  It's a small theater, so for best seats, make your reservations now by calling 469-619-2609.




July 10, 2006

Extremely hectic time: Brian Piper has unexpectedly been called to California for a "can't get out of it" meeting with a big movie studio, and he can't do the Wednesday show!  Fortunately, he has an excellent pianist to fill in, and we will both be rehearsing intensely with him for the next two days, so the show will go on!  Still, this is the first time I'll have ever done the show without Brian, so please be gentle with me. 

BTW, thanks to the Dallas Observer for choosing my show as one of their Best Bets for Wednesday!  I promise I won't let you down. 

And now, a couple of news items worthy of comment, and chances are this is the last chance I'll have for blogging until after the show...


A study by Italy's University of Verona suggests that beautiful people might be smarter than plain or ugly people.  In blind-graded tests, good-looking students did better.  It had been assumed that beautiful people did better in school because teachers favored them; but now, researchers think that maybe beautiful people get higher grades because they get more attention from parents, have higher self-esteem and work harder  (except, of course, for when they're cheerleading or going out on dates, which is pretty much every night.)  Or maybe it's just that their perfect blue eyes help them cheat off the nerd sitting next to them.  How fashion models fit into this theory, I have no idea. 

The study also showed that the world's smartest person isn't Stephen Hawking, it's Janice Dickinson.

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Last week, Patti Farrant became Britain's oldest new mom after giving birth at age 62 following a controversial fertility treatment. It sparked a lot of criticism, but UK Health Secretary Patricia Hewitt defended her. She said men have always been able to father children up into their 70s or even 80s, so criticizing a woman for becoming a mother at 62 is "gender hypocrisy."  But at least, a baby with an 80-year-old father will still grow up with one living parent because its mom is 23.

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This Dallas Morning News review of the '80s "hair metal bands" Poison and Cinderella really cheesed me off.  It always annoys me that every review of any band that is beyond the pimple stage has to make mention of how old and gray the audience members are, as if that has any connection whatsoever to the quality of the music.  Or as if it matters whether the people listening to, say, the Moody Blues are 50 or 15.  But this one really goes overboard.  This is the quote that got me:


"Yes, the usual midlifers were represented heavily, arriving ready to sing along and hoot it up as best they could."


"As best they could"?! 

If you were listening to these bands as a teenager when they had their hits in the late '80s, you might be all of 35 by now.  Hope you're able to hoot without mainlining Geritol first.  And God forbid you should try to dance.  You wouldn't want to break a hip.

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Finally, UPI reports that after a lifetime of refusing to appear nude, Sophia Loren has agreed to pose au naturale for next year's Perelli calendar at age 72.  I bet she'll still look better naked than Nicole Richie.




June 30, 2006

Exciting day on Friday: I was paging through the Weekend Guide of the Dallas Morning News, spotted someone who looked vaguely familiar and realized: "Hey, that's ME!"

On the "Taking A Look Ahead" at July events section on page 42, they printed a photo of Brian and me from one of our earliest shows, to illustrate the listing for "Ship" on July 12. And just to the left of the photo is the listing for the Cole Porter show on July 12. Thankyew, thankyew, thankyew to the Weekend Guide editors! This is a red letter day for me, like going to the Perricone counter and discovering there's a sale PLUS a coupon!

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I'm going to be in intense rehearsals the next few weeks, so there may not be much blogging, but I'll try to point you to interesting stories when I have a spare minute. Here are a couple...

The New York Daily News reports on the tragic plight of women who've spent a fortune having themselves sand-blasted, stuffed, buffed and reupholstered to look all shiny and new, only to realize that their hands are giving away their age.  So naturally, there are now various creams, injections, laser treatments and so forth, costing up to $15,000, to make your hands look younger.  My solution is much cheaper and simpler: just write a show that requires you to wear a spangled gown with elbow-length gloves.

As you know, one message of my show is that you shouldn't let people's perceptions of you as "too old" keep you from doing what you love. And here's the poster boy for that...literally. He's an 85-year-old nude model. Warning to the sensitive: this story is illustrated.  

I'll bet if this story were about an 85-year-old female nude model, she'd be unashamed to show her entire body, except she'd keep her hands behind her back.




June 28, 2006

The new Entertainment Weekly is out, with their “Summer Must List,” or all the people and things you must see, listen to or buy under penalty of law. I noticed a recurring theme: people making it despite being pronounced “too old” by the gatekeepers of popular culture. In their “Stage” section, Christine Ebersole is hailed for her rave reviews and sold-out houses in the new musical “Grey Gardens.” She notes that the reason she is on Broadway is because she was working in TV seven years ago when she began to be told she was “over the hill,” but she still believed she had "something to contribute.” That’s hard to believe, considering she was a decrepit 46 at the time.

So she returned to the stage and won a Tony in 2001 for “42nd Street,” in which she played – ta da! – an over-the-hill actress. Of course, by then she was 47, so it made sense. Incidentally, if you’re wondering how I know her exact age in each year, it’s because her current age is the VERY FIRST THING given in the article, just as it is in every profile of every person in the magazine! Grrrrrrrrr!!!

The other age-related story in “EW” involves Scottish folk-rocker KT Tunstall, whose debut CD “Eye to the Telescope” is a surprise hit, even though record executives repeatedly told her she was too old to get a recording contract. Her current age: 31. She said, “Each time I receive an award, I’m just cackling, rubbing my hands and going, ‘Smell my award!’ Revenge is sweet.” She says her next CD will have a song about plastic surgery on it. I may have to buy that.

My husband Pat read this and made a good point about the idea that only people in their 20s should have recording deals. He said he thinks Sinatra’s early records with Tommy Dorsey were okay, but it wasn’t until Frank was in his 40s that he began making the string of Capitol and Reprise albums that are now universally considered to be among the greatest pop recordings ever made. If our current youth obsession had prevailed back then, Frank Sinatra would be known today as that skinny one-hit-wonder who cut “I’ll Never Smile Again.”

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We saw Kathy Griffin at the Meyerson Monday night, and she was hilarious.  I get compared to her sometimes because she's a funny redhead with bangs who talks about plastic surgery, rips on celebrities and has a lot of gay friends, but that's about the extent of our similarities (she isn't planning to take up singing, I hope).  Still, I'm a big fan and really enjoyed her show.  I especially loved her stories about going to the "American Idol" finale, and her complaint that none of the contestants knew any songs that came out before "Genie In A Bottle."  She noted how they always protest, "That song came out before I was born!" as if we're supposed to reply, "Oh, that's right, I forgot!  The entire world began on the day you were born!"

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Finally, the New York Daily News reports that the Ritz Carlton Hotel Spa is offering a $270 caviar firming facial (that would do your skin more good if you just ate the fish eggs), but Nabi MediSpa in Manhattan is going them one better with a $250 "Frozen in Time" facial, which consists of having embryonic stem cells from pregnant cows rubbed into your face. This sounds like something you’d see on “Fear Factor,” except they’d pay you $250 to rub embryonic cow cells on your face.

Spa owner Ivy Cho (who is not a scientist, but does wear a white lab coat) said, "People are now more aware of non-invasive, non-surgical procedures that can make them look years younger.  And everybody's interested in stem cells because they have the best (rejuvenating) properties."  Maybe they can even cure facial paralysis from too much Botox. This sounds intriguing, but I have a nagging fear that even if it does make you look young, it would make you look like a young cow.




June 19, 2006


The New York Post reports that Sweden's H&M clothing is getting flak for signing to provide Madonna's tour wardrobe because at 47, the poor hag is too old.  Ad icon Jerry Della Femina said kids "trade in stars every two or three years, and many don't know Madonna. I could see her signing up with Loehmann's."  A spokeswoman for Loehmann's, the mall discount chain that advertises "designer deals for every generation," replied, "We'd love to have Madonna, if we could afford her."  How about J-Lo? She's sort of a bargain-basement Madonna.

Of course, Jerry Della Femina is 70 years old, so I don't know why he thinks anyone will pay any attention to his opinion.

In other aging Madonna news, Madonna proved herself to be a gal after my own heart by saying that if her body or face start to sag, she won't rule out getting plastic surgery, but "I won't have a press conference" to announce it.  This would mark the first time Madonna has ever had any intimate personal secret that she didn't call a press conference to announce.  But I'm with her: I believe that if you want to get plastic surgery, it's your business and yours alone.  Besides, holding a press conference to announce that Madonna had plastic surgery is the National Enquirer's job. 

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In case you missed it, here is a very interesting article by Carlin Flora in Psychology Today. It’s called “The Beguiling Truth About Beauty,” and it explains some of the psychological reasons why women are constantly denigrating their own looks and thinking they are not as attractive as other people think they are. One of the most fascinating tidbits in the article is a reference to a study in which men and women were asked to do math problems, and they scored about equally well. The women were then asked to change into swimsuits. After that, they were so self-conscious about how their bodies looked, they couldn’t concentrate; and their math scores fell below those of the men. This is probably why they dropped the math portion of the Miss Universe Pageant.

Apparently, they didn’t put the men into swimsuits to see how it affected their math skills, but I have a feeling it would make no difference. Judging from some of the guys you see galumphing around in Speedos, they seem more familiar with the concepts of calculus than with the concept of worrying about how their bodies look.

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Finally, here’s a great celebrity quote from this week’s TV Guide. It’s from an interview with “the world’s first supermodel,” Janice Dickinson. The reporter asked about the hot-looking photo of her on the cover of her new book on dating, “Check Please.”   Dickinson, whose previous delightfully blunt and dishy book was called "Everything About Me Is Fake...And I'm Perfect," replied:

“Everything about the cover photo is retouched and digitally enhanced to make me look good. Hey, I fool the camera. I’m a liar, a magician. I’m 51 years old. Without the fake t*ts, the plastic surgery and the facelift, there’d be a middle-aged, gray-haired lady staring at you.”

If only Simon Cowell were honest enough to say the same thing…




June 12, 2006

Sorry, I know the blog is not being updated as often as it used to be, but I've been swamped.  We have private shows of "Ship" and the Pocket Sandwich show coming up on July 12 (they are now taking reservations at 214-821-1860, so please make yours early); I am trying to find times to get into the recording studio with Brian; I will be doing a song I wrote in the Dallas Press Club Gridiron show at the Lakewood Theater (which was set for June, then postponed until August); and on top of all that, the wonderful singer/pianist Michael Gott of The Mansion and I are writing and rehearsing a new show to perform for the Stone Street Theatre, a lovely venue that just opened in downtown Dallas, across Main from Neiman's.   We did four songs at a VIP/media showcase there on June 4, and I was incredibly sick with some sinus grunge that was a gift from my beloved hubby.  Through a miraculous stroke of luck, I had total laryngitis the day before, got a 15-minute window at show time when I stopped coughing and was able to sing, then immediately started feeling worse.  Thank goodness, that's finally going away.

This new show is the answer to all of you who keep asking me if I ever sing anything serious.  It's called "Cole Porter: Elegance and Decadence," and I will be singing major heart-tuggers such as "Every Time We Say Goodbye," but I still reserve the right to perform silly things like "The Tale of the Oyster."  The goal is to bring an elegant, Manhattan-style cabaret show to downtown Dallas.  We promise the perfect romantic show, whether you're on your first date, your 50th anniversary, or you just love the Great American Songbook.  The Cole Porter show debuts July 21, and reservations are highly recommended!  Click here for info, or click here to make reservations and learn about the new theatre, where something fun is now going on every weekend in downtown Dallas!

And now, a few tidbits from the news...

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If you ever wonder why politicians are afraid to cut Social Security, this should explain it. 

Our age-defying hero of the day is Elisabeth Rubin, who is 86, has had five strokes, a broken hip and uses a walker.  She was waiting for a bus near Madison Square Garden when a middle-aged Hispanic mugger grabbed her purse.  But she held on and began beating him with her umbrella.  She later said she wishes she'd thought to poke him in the eye with the sharp end.  He got the purse away, saw it held only $5 and some cornbread, and yelled, "You're a prostitute!" in Spanish.  Rubin snapped back, "Your mother's a prostitute."  He ran away, but Rubin is scouring the area with police, looking for him.  She said he'd better hope the cops find him before she does, and she asked the police to let her beat him up.  A young reporter asked, "You could do that?"  She replied, "Oh, yes." 

How do you think she got that broken hip?  Kickin' mugger butt! 

This jerk had better turn himself in now; he'll be much safer in prison.


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Dermatologist Eric Finzi has applied for a patent to use Botox for depression.  He had a brainstorm after he injected it into 10 patients' facial muscles, making it impossible for them to frown, and they felt less depressed.

Or at least, they looked less depressed, and that's what really matters. 

My theory is that they felt less depressed because they looked ten years younger.

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In South Korea, the latest gift trend for parents is plastic surgery.  Their Parents' Day holiday was in May, and clinic appointments for that time are up 50 percent in five years, thanks to people giving their parents gift certificates for Botox, facelifts, liposuction, hair transplants and liver spot removal.  The parents are now requesting this and say they're very happy to receive it. 

Another upside to this gift is that if you erase your mom's stretch marks and worry lines, she can't blame them on you anymore.  And if you give her enough Botox, she won't be able to raise an eyebrow at anything you do.

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Let's finish with a celebrity quote, this time from Jay Leno's monologue...

“The Japanese have invented a female android that can make four facial expressions.  Which is pretty amazing, considering most women in Beverly Hills can’t do that.”




May 4, 2006

I always start my show with a dedication, and I think I might dedicate the next one to Wook Kundor.  According to the Harian Metro tabloid of Malaysia, Mrs. Kundor, a 104-year-old widow, recently married Muhamad Noor Che Musa, a 33-year-old army veteran.  It's his first marriage and her 21st.  Now, there's a heroine in the battle against ageism! 

Musa said he didn't marry her for her money because she doesn't have any, so she is not the Martha Raye of Malaysia.  He said he initially sympathized with her for being childless, old and alone, but he found peace and a sense of belonging with her, and she made him want to stay in one place for the first time.  That's right: he finally found a 104-year-old woman who was able to overcome his fear of commitment. 

Naturally, this made international news, but if a 104-year-old man married a 33-year-old woman, it would be just another day in Beverly Hills.

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On the other hand, maybe I'll dedicate the show to the new poster boy for too much plastic surgery: Kenny Rogers.  Ever since he appeared on "American Idol," Kenny's unnaturally smooth face and tiny eyes have become the talk of the Internet, and Jay Leno can't stop obsessing over it. Kenny admits that his surgeon went too far and made his eyelids too tight, but he plans to "fix" that.  This is where you run into trouble: when you go too far, but you think, "No problem, I'll just have it fixed."  This is how Michael Jackson ended up "fixing" his nose so many times that seems to have fallen off.

Of course, the big question is "Why?"  It's exactly what you might think: Kenny told People magazine, "I think when you're in the public eye, you feel  a pressure to stay younger looking," adding, "The first six years of my career, I got more comments on my weight than on my singing."

The odd thing, of course, is that in recent years, Kenny had carved out more of a career as a grizzed character actor in westerns such as "The Gambler" than as a country-pop singer.  Now, he has to hope his new records garner airplay (and good luck in today's youth-obsessed radio market) because there aren't many westerns being made about grizzled old gamblers who look as if they share a plastic surgeon with George Hamilton. 

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Finally, I love a good celebrity quote about plastic surgery, and Russell Crowe has delivered a doozy.

According to London tabloids, Russell gave an interview in which he allegedly discussed whether his "Quick and the Dead" co-star Sharon Stone had plastic surgery for "Basic Instinct 2" (for the record, Stone vehemently denies having a facelift, and I'll defend to the death her right to have one, or not have one, or have one and deny she had one).  Crowe said, "A lot seems to have changed," then warming to his favorite subject (rearranging people's faces), he said, "You can end up looking like a startled chimpanzee.  The eyes are gone, the lips are like rubber tires - or more like an orangutan that has been kicked in the arse." 

His reps later claimed that the quotes were "taken completely out of context."  If she heard the whole thing, I'm sure Sharon would realize he meant that startled simian simile as a compliment.  He'd better hope so, anyway, or else he might end up on the receiving end of an orangutan-style arse kicking himself.



April 27, 2006

Again, my apologies for going so long without blogging.  I'm still reeling from Wednesday's "Dr. Phil" show, featuring the idiot husband who berated his wife for not looking like a Victoria's Secret model (she'd gained 15 pounds and gotten cottage-cheesy legs after having THREE KIDS!!  Grrrrrr!!!  He looked like he'd gained 50 pounds since their wedding, and I wonder how many pregnancies he's been through?)   Meanwhile, Pat, my husband and webmaster who is smart enough to have no complaints about my legs but who has to post and format all this stuff, has been very busy and is just getting some energy back after being sick for a looooooong time.  He promises he will try to get stuff posted more regularly in the near future.  To tide you over, a few interesting tidbits from the news...

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Who says we don’t live in a wondrous new age?  Five doctors in London have started a service called Botonics that offers old-fashioned house calls to provide at-home Botox treatments.  For 80 pounds ($142 US), a doctor will come to your home and deliver Botox, chemical peels, dermal filler injections and other cosmetic procedures just as if he were delivering a pizza (if you’ve had too many pizzas delivered, maybe they’ll offer door-to-door liposuction next.)

The only way it could be more convenient is if the Botox doctor moved right into your house and lived there.  I think that’s the arrangement Madonna has.

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A new Zogby poll asked Americans what turns them on and off about the opposite sex and got some answers that might surprise plastic surgeons and Hollywood studio executives.  It seems that 69 percent of men say breast implants aren't sexy, and only 6 percent prefer Botox to wrinkles.  In fact, 70 percent of men don't even want women to wear makeup.  But then, that could just be because 70 percent of men have never seen women without makeup.  I assume the other 30 percent want women to wear only enough makeup to cover all the plastic surgery scars.

If men say they prefer flat-chested girls with no makeup to Pamela Anderson, it can mean only one thing: the poll taker questioned them when their wives were in the room.

On the other side of the aisle, women said they are turned off by men with toupees (only 2 percent found those sexy, and they're probably just the women who really love their pet hamsters), as well as facial hair and pec implants or other surgical alterations.  The Alan Alda "sensitive man" era also seems to be over: most women do like a man who can cook; but by 2-to-1 margins, women said they'd prefer a lumberjack to a metrosexual (unless he's a Monty Python-style transvestite lumberjack).  Women also find men who cry at movies to be unsexy.  Particularly if they cry at Arnold Schwarzenegger movies.

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While Americans worry that they’re too heavy, Australians must have the opposite problem.  British-born Helen Evans moved to Brisbane four years ago to marry her Australian boyfriend, but she's facing deportation because she's not fat enough.  She's always been tiny and weighed only 37 kg (81 pounds) when she applied for citizenship.  She was told she was too skinny and had to prove she had no health problems and gain 10 kg (22 pounds) or be deported.  This must be why Nicole Kidman moved to America.

After $1300 worth of tests, she found she had a gluten intolerance and she's since been able to gain 13 pounds (her Australian husband’s new motto is “Throw another shrimp to Barbie!”), but she’s still facing deportation if she doesn’t pack on a few more pounds.  She said people think it's laughable when they learn she's had to go through all this because she's too thin to be an Australian.

Still, there are worse things: if she moved to Beverly Hills, she’d be deported for being too fat.

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Pinup model Cindy Margolis, who billed herself as the "most downloaded woman" on the Internet, has finally agreed to pose nude for Playboy on her 40th birthday.  She said she always refused because "in the past, it would have been for gratuitous reasons" (and the star of the "Lingerie Bowl" wouldn't want to do anything gratuitous), but at 40, it's empowering!

Sh e said, "Thank goodness for 'Desperate Housewives.'  You're not dead just because you are married and have children...It will be fun to go up against the 20-year-olds and show them that they don't have anything on me."

Probably because with Photoshop, Hefner will make her look 19.

March 30, 2006

I know, it's been forever since an update.  I have a ton of stuff piled up, but we've been very busy with a number of projects, and there's been no time for blogging.  Also, it's taken us forever to get over the black lung disease or whatever it was.  My husband Pat hasn't felt much like webmastering, but he's finally vertical again, or at least as vertical as he ever gets, considering his back problems.  I'll try to add more, but here's a little something to tide you over (some chum to get the sharks awakened again)...


Susan Sarandon is considering getting plastic surgery, possibly on the neck, but not around the eyes because she says that as an actress, "I need my face to move" (although that hasn't stopped about 75% of the other actresses working today).  Oddly enough, she said she might also get her breasts enlarged, even though she admits they are already "at least a C, sometimes a D, depending on the bra."  I guess she wants to go through the entire alphabet. 

And why would someone who's already famous for her voluptuousness want to make her breasts even bigger?  To keep getting work in Hollywood, of course.  Sarandon said, "Directors cast the men they want to be and the women they want to have." 

Except, of course, for all those directors who cast only the women they've already had.

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The journal "Age & Aging" reports that in one of the first-ever studies of marriage and perceived age, Prof. Kaare Christensen analyzed photos of 2,000 twins over age 70 and their marital and medical histories.  The study found that on the average, men who marry look two years younger than their real age, and married women look two years younger than they really are (Only two years?  If the woman wants to stay married, she'll have to do better than that!) 

Prof. Christensen said it shows people need partners to take care of them and that long-term relationships increase happiness and reduce stress.  Or maybe it just shows that married women are so overworked, they haven't had time to pose for a new picture in the last two years.

"Stop The Presses!" Dept:  The study also found that having children helps men look younger, unless they have more than three, but being a mother did not help women look younger.

Unless the kid grows up to be a plastic surgeon.

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Here's one of those "And What Did You Think Would Happen?" stories...

Sabrina Pace works in a car rental company in Cardiff, Wales, and perhaps inspired by modern air bag technology, she took some time off to have her breasts enlarged from B to DD-cups.  When she returned, she claimed her boss told her she should pose for a calendar and asked her to close her sweater "unless you want me to talk to your breasts."  She was so offended that he paid attention to her newly-expanded chest, she filed a sexual harassment complaint.  But the employment tribunal rejected her claim.  

Well, to be honest, they didn't hear her claim: they were too busy staring at her breasts.

So now, she's doing a calendar.

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Finally, a celebrity quote from Sharon Stone, who is appearing naked all over in "Basic Instinct 2" and reportedly has been offered $1 million to pose for Playboy:

"Was the first film really 1992?  God, I must now be 103 in actress years."




Feb. 28, 2006

Again, sorry for the long...............pauses between posts, but just as Pat and I think we're getting better, this grunge comes back worse.  Whatever this is, half the people I know in the local theater scene are suffering from it.  It's a great time to be an understudy.  I can't even talk today and am trying not to cough (my singing instructor once told me that clearing your throat is actually very bad for singers and they should try to avoid it.  Rod Stewart followed this advice and look how well he did). 

Anyway, I'm too sick for a lot of commentary, but I'll just point you to a few things that have been piling up and I promise there'll be more later...


I recently discovered a terrific charity called Doris Daniely Outreach.  They help women who have had radical mastectomies for breast cancer and need reconstructive surgery.  It's all-volunteer (no overhead or staff), and since it's such a perfect match for the part of my show in which I talk about how "plastic surgery can be your friend," I hope to be able to do a benefit show for them, possibly at the Women's Museum at Fair Park.  Pat is working on that idea.  I'll let you know if it pans out.  In the meantime, please click their link, learn about them, and send them a donation! 


Speaking of ways in which plastic surgery can be a woman's friend, here's one I bet you never thought of.  Warning: this one is not for the kiddies.  Click at your own risk. 


I recently stumbled across a terrific website for objective scientific info all sorts of skin treatments, anti-aging products, etc.  It's called SmartSkinCare.com.  They don't sell, endorse or advertise any particular products, they just give information, answer questions, and give you tips on cost-effective skin care techniques that work.  Definitely worth bookmarking.
 

Here's the kind of headline that really sets me off.  I'm thinking of putting this in my show.  In case it gets removed, it's a picture of Madonna assuming a feet-behind-the-head yoga position (at least I assume it's a yoga position, but with Madonna, you never know).  The headline from the chirpy British tabloid is, "Not Bad For 47, Madonna!"  Because when anyone over 29 does anything at all, the story is never about the person or the accomplishment, it's about her age, right?  Well, I guess it's not too bad for a headline writer with an IQ of 47. 


The Dallas Morning News dives headfirst onto my latest peeve with this article, ostensibly about food trends, but of course, it's really all about age, and that cliche that puts my teeth on edge, "aging baby boomers."  Here's the first sentence:  "As the first baby boomers start hitting 60, prunes are enjoying a comeback."  It goes on to talk more about "wrinkled rockers" and other standard "aging baby boomer" article bullet points than it does about prunes.  Apparently, when we ate prune danishes at 25, we were just eating prune danishes, but now we're declaring that we're aging baby boomers in solidarity with Danish newspaper editors.  As Freud might have said, "Sometimes a prune danish is just a prune danish.  So get over yourself.  That'll be $200." 

 
Finally, Crunch gym in Times Square, the gym that introduced "Cardio Striptease," has a new workout for women, and, I suppose, really dedicated drag queens: "Stiletto Strength." It's designed to get women into shape for wearing high heels and to make their legs look good.  It starts with aerobics in sneakers, to strengthen abs and legs, then the women don six-inch heels and do exercises such as walking while holding one hand above their heads, as if moving through a crowded bar and trying not to spill a drink (this should be called "The Paris Hilton Workout"). 

A podiatrist asked to assess the class said, "Women shouldn't wear high heels," but a Crunch spokeswoman said they're going to wear stilettos anyway, and this will at least make it less painful. Although it will certainly destroy the gym mats.


That's it for now.  More coming soon if I can ever vanquish this nasty bug. 



Feb. 10, 2006

Sorry for the long lags in blog postings.  This sickness that's been going around is really tenacious, what little energy it's left me has had to be expended on personal issues  (getting our house reintiated into a historic district, etc.), planning the CD, and working on materials that I hope will get the show into a major theater festival this summer.  We do have a local public show set for July 12 at Pocket Sandwich Theater, but we hope to schedule others sooner, as soon as we can get a few problems ironed out with the venues.  Meanwhile, let's catch up on some news from the age, beauty and health front. 

Here's some good news: the University of Rochester Medical Center found that women who begin suffering memory lapses as menopause approaches are probably not suffering from early Alzheimer's.  It's just that they are under so much stress, from jobs, kids, husbands, etc., that their brains can't learn the information well enough in the first place for them to retrieve it.  They said women should relax and stop worrying that they are losing their minds. 

Yeah, relax: you're not losing your mind, you're just being driven out of it!  That's a vast improvement!


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Several new medical studies have come out proving that everything you thought you knew about dieting is wrong.  For instance, a massive eight-year study of over 49,000 women found no link between eating a low-fat diet and reducing your risk of heart disease, cancer, diabetes or even weight gain.  That's right, you can force yourself to eat a low-fat diet and still not lose weight.  Man, is Oprah having a lousy month!

Of course, this really isn't surprising for those of us who follow the Perricone Diet.  It's not how much fat you eat that matters, it's the kind of fat.  I went on that diet not for weight loss but health reasons, and I eat plenty of food, but I actually have to make an effort to keep my weight up!   That's what tends to happen when you eat only healthy food.  The hard part is learning to enjoy eating salmon more than fudge.

Another study disproved the notion that if you eat after 8 p.m., you'll gain more weight. The study on monkeys found that the time at which they ate had no effect at all on weight gain.  The lead researcher said the body can't tell what time it is (then what good are those damn biological clocks?), and it's not "when you eat" that matters, but "how many calories" you eat.

So eat at any hour.  Just don't eat at every hour.

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Miramax Films co-founder Harvey Weinstein claims that the "Today" show, "Good Morning America" and "The View" all rejected Dame Judi Dench for interviews about her Oscar-nominated role in "Mrs. Henderson Presents" (a wonderful movie, by the way) because she's too old to appeal to their target demographic  -- an odd statement coming from a show that stars Barbara Walters, who is older than Judi Dench.

Weinstein said his own mother was offended by the snub, saying, "What do they think, 25-year-old people can't watch 70-year-old people? The insanity of youth. It also assumes none of us like our families."  Spokesmen for the shows denied snubbing Dame Judi, noting that she had appeared before (of course, she was younger then), but they were simply unable to accommodate an appearance for her at this time.  They were too booked up with more scintillating conversationalists, such as Dakota