I went to see a charming little film called Schultze Gets The Blues last night. It is a German movie with an idealistic love for America and Americans.
It was slow but endearing.
And it had yodeling, which made me happy.
Since the movie was slow, I had time to contemplate yodeling without missing out on anything in the movie. I was thinking "Why does yodeling make me so happy?" and finally I determined that it's nostalgia for The Price Is Right and not The Sound of Music.
If you don't suffer from the same nostalgia, I am referring to a pricing game on TPIR in which a contestant has to guess the price of a prize and then this small dude climbs up a mountain while yodeling. He climbs for the amount of notches that the contestant is away from the actual retail price of the prize. It's agony because you don't know if he's going to stop or fall over the side the mountain.
This is a really stressful game. Probably one of the more stressful games on TPIR, but it still makes me feel all warm and fuzzy thinking about it.
I spent a good portion of the movie last night trying to think of what that game was called. I came up with some theories:
1. Climb Every Mountain
2. Rise To the Top
3. The Lonely Goatheard
4. The Yodeler
5. Weird Little Man Who Yodels
6. Don't Fall Over the Edge
7. The Mountain Game
8. The Climbing Game
I was trying to think like the brilliant minds behind The Price Is Right, about things like The Race Game and Three Strikes and The Golf Game and PLINKO!!!
Needless to say I've been looking forward to this moment... I've been waiting since last night for this... I've been in agony... I've been waiting for the moment when I could look up the actual name of The Game With The Little Yodeling Dude...
Oh. Cliff Hangers. I'm not sure if I actually ever knew that. Hmmm.
http://gscentral.net/cliff.htm
Heh. I guess its funny that determining the name of this game from last night to just now was sort of a, well, yeah, a cliffhanger.
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I am also thinking about menopause today. It was something I've been looking forward to, up until last night. In New York, landlords are responsible for heating tenants' apartments, so we have no control over the heat level.
A few weeks ago, D caved in and bought a space heater because his apartment was just too damn cold. He complained to the landlord, but things never got better.
Starting yesterday, somebody must have put the smack down on the landlord because his apartment was 90 degrees. For those of you who know me, you know I prefer things warm. I'd have the heat on 80 at all times if given my way. D set up two fans, but they didn't do much. I rolled over in the middle of the night and put my hand on my pillow and I'm not kidding when I say I winced because the pillow was so freaking hot (my pillow - and therefore my head - is right near the radiator when I sleep). I got up and melodramatically declared that we needed to switch sides because I was dying from heat stroke.
This is what menopause must be like. I can't even imagine. I can't imagine being that hot at random and being expected to function. How awful.
It's also awful that people in NYC are either forced to freeze or to put their air conditioners on in the middle of the winter.
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I am feeling pointless lately. I am not consuming anything artistic or worthy. I haven't had an original thought in quite some time. I am too busy comparing myself to other people.
Do other people compare themselves to other people?
I need hobbies. I need to be good at something. I don't feel like I have "a thing" right now. Pointless. I found these old science songs online from the 60s and thought I'd write and record some of my own, but that is derivative. I'm entirely derivative. I thought "I should paint again," but then I thought "What would I paint?" and came up with nothing. I feel barren. I thought "Maybe I should take a class on philosophy," but then thought "I might then feel more stupid and wouldn't be able to take it."
Dance lessons could be cool.
Career change.
Jewelry making.
Painting.
Photography.
I don't feel good enough lately, but I can't quite figure out what I'm not good enough for. Me? Him? New York?
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D just sent me the word-of-the-day, and it's "misanthrope."
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More optimistic entries for the rest of the week, I promise.
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
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1 comment:
First of all, even though I know I've told everyone I know about this already, I'm going to tell it again for all posterity. I knew instantly why yodeling made you think of TPIR, because I watched TPIR religiously when I was little. I would watch TPIR at 11, which was on channel 7, and then at 12 I would go up to the old black and white TV with feet and a dial and turn the dial to channel 2 for Sesame Street. Because you could no longer see the numbers in the dial, I would have to count to myself as I turned, "7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2." I mention the details of the TV because my peers are continually amazed that for many years, our only TV was black and white with no remote and with feet. And we didn't get cable until I was in college. (FYI: When your TV starts to get a black spot in the middle, that black spot will grow until eventually all you have is a black void framed by 1 inch of show. And then you throw out the TV.)
Anyway, I would watch TPIR every day, and I really got into it. I could always tell when Rod was going to shout "A new car!" and I would shout it right along with him. I'm pretty sure that my mom got a huge kick out of listening to me from the kitchen. Picture a 4-year-old screaming "Pick the detergent! It's the detergent!" and you'll see why.
I also watched "Caspar the Friendly Ghost" every day because it was on at 2, so I knew my brother and sisters would be home before it was over. Which is why my mom let me watch it.
Second of all, everyone compares themselves to everyone, except for freakishly well-adjusted people. So no worries.
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