From Cynicism to Stardom--Why We Adore Susan Boyle

If you're over five years old and have been awake anytime in the last week, you've heard of Susan Boyle--the quirky, middle-aged Scottish woman with the beautiful voice. The clip of her audition on Britain's Got Talent has been viewed 7 gazillion times (6 gazillion by myself alone) on YouTube.com, there's rumor that she's working on a record deal, and she's receiving fan mail from all over the world.

As I've mentioned before, I don't tend to jump on societal trends, but I've unabashedly embraced Susan Boyle.

Susan's story has been repeatedly compared to a fairy tale and it just happens to be one that plays out on screen in only seven minutes. Think of it--the fairy tale opens when we meet our heroine on stage in front of three judges who live up to the many meanings of their title (including "to pass sentence on; condemn") and an audience of snickering, eye-rolling critics for a day. Not unlike David and his Goliath, or Rudy of the 1976 Notre Dame football team, Susan faces off against a seemingly impenetrable foe. It's not Simon Cowell and his eye rolling or the audience's jeering and mocking whistles. Nope. Amanda identifies it best in her post-performance comments--Susan's villain is cynicism.

And Ms. Boyle's foe is banished within the first ten words of her performance, when the jaws of all three judges hit the floor and millions of goosebumps simultaneously pop up on audience members' arms.

But the victory isn't in those goosebumps or the long standing ovation our heroine receives. It isn't in the three emphatic yeses that allow her to go on to the next round. It isn't in our tears. It's in Susan Boyle being herself and knowing that was enough.

We cried (admit it) because we've all faced a similar foe (sometimes in ourselves and sometimes in others) and haven't always handled it with the "cheeky grin" and confidence of Susan Boyle.

The long-term victory for the world's sweetheart will be to remain exactly who she is no matter what--because we love her for it--and because in so doing, she gives us permission to do the same.

Bumblebears and the Tender-Hearted Roomie

It's Spring. Yeah, I know, it's not official until this Saturday but I know it's spring because I can barely breathe, I use the wipers to remove an inch of pollen from my windshield every morning, and the bumblebears are out. There's also, you know, the blooming of the dogwoods, the flowering of the azaleas, and the general feeling of whimsy in the air.

So, I was clipping the blooming bushes and sharing the space with the bumblebears (that's what I call the kind of bees with the rotund, bear-shaped, fuzzy-looking bodies) when one bumped into me. No big deal, he wasn't being aggressive, just clumsy. And his clumsiness made him that much more endearing. Bumblebears are endearing even without human qualities and the magic of DreamWorks animation--they're just cool little fellas. I suppose you could say I'm mostly indifferent to the little guys. Until they come in the house.

Now the roomie on the other hand, has a tender heart towards anything small and furry and she has a vague recollection of hearing or reading or imagining that modern-day bees are dying out. When we eat honey, she goes into monologues about how amazing bees are, how they work together to create the hives and the honeycomb and how sad the world would be without them. She's loved them even more since she saw The Bee Movie.

So, when Mr. Bumblebear came in the house we saw him differently. To me, he was an inconvenience. To her, he was a friend to save--even though she wasn't excited about his stinger.

I was happy to oblige her wishes and cheered her on as she got the tupperware and the piece of paper. After approaching him tupperware first, with a backwards leap at every twitch or buzz, she sprang for him. When she opened her eyes and saw him bumping into the tupperware walls, she did a joyful little jig. Mr. Bumblebear, however, was not so joyful. As she slipped the paper "lid" on, she consoled him saying, "Don't be mad, little guy, I'm just trying to save your life." She began to relax a little, feeling good about facing her fears while looking out for the bee population of the world.

Just one step left.

I opened the door for her and she opened the tupperware, flicked the paper, and pulled the trap back inside. I slammed the door shut and she leaned against the door smiling, "He's out!"

Bzzzzzz.

"He's in!" He'd resisted her flick and stayed on the paper. And that's when she ran into her room and slammed the door--a bee with a human target isn't nearly as endearing as a rambling bumblebear.

Now it was just me and the angry bumblebear and the would-be bee saver whimpering behind the door. So, you know, I took care of it.

She hasn't come out of her room yet.

A Skeleton in the Closet

Okay, so maybe it's not in the closet but on top of the ticket booth thing. But either way, here's a bird skeleton I had to remove before the big show.

Nobody told me this would be one of my band duties.

What do potato chips and star crunches have in common?

Jamarcus, who plays the lead character in "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat," came over today to make a recording. He plans to send it off to a music academy, along with some clips from the shows. Perhaps this time next year, he'll be performing in California. So while the roomie worked on getting the "studio" ready, Jamarcus and I warmed up our vocal chords.

I asked him what he does to warm up. He opened a grocery bag full of potato chips and star crunches and start eating. I asked him what the chips and star crunches had to do with warming up. His response? They help him hit the high notes.
Jamarcus himself, backstage during the last performance (Seussical, the Musical)

Another Noteworthy Performance from Britain's Got Talent

Two Greek dancers (a father and son pair) on Britain's Got Talent have a few things in common with fellow contestant, Susan Boyle:

1. They give an endearing example of being exactly who you are and being just fine with that.
2. Their audition will bring tears to your eyes (but for a very different reason).

Dream a Dream

1. Go to YouTube.com
2. Search Susan Boyle
3. Watch
4. Dream a Dream

The Queen's English or English in Queens?

Good ole' England is in the throes of a battle regarding the apostrophe.

An article called Its a catastrophe for the apostrophe in Britain (see what they did there?) explains that Birmingham's transport scrutiny committee (yes, that's for real) has settled the decades-old debate by removing apostrophes from street names and public places (like St. Pauls Square) saying they are confusing and unnecessary.

I beg to differ. Removing the apostrophe is what causes confusion. Even my spellchecker recognizes that St. Pauls Square is probably not a place with multiple Pauls and suggests an apostrophe. Some purists agree with my spellchecker and me and have engaged in public campaigns to insist that the helpful little apostrophe remain.

Take some time to understand the little chap, we say, and let him remain in his rightful place.

If you don't, you may find yourself wondering if you're speaking the Queen's English or English in Queens.

**Thank you, mama, for sending the article.

Chicken Thai Fusion (It's Fast, Frugal, and Funky)

This is a recipe for Thai chicken in a crock pot. It's fusion because it's not exactly authentic (when was the last time you saw the word crock on a Thai menu?), but it has the essence of Thai (it's spicy, has peanuts, and is served with rice).

I first tried this recipe at a friend's house and have since created two of my own versions--one in a crock pot and one in a frying pan. Each time has been scrumptalescent. That's not a word, but it's in my vocabulary anyway (thanks Mitch!) and describes this dish.

One roomie (the one who likes spicy foods) and the chef whose catering company specializes in "fusion" (Roboto) both love it.

As usual, I use the recipe as a guideline and can tell you from experience that adding too much peanut butter is a recipe for a very thick sauce and an even thicker stomachache. Besides that, it's probably fair game for some substitution and varying amounts to taste.

Happy Thai fusion to you!

Ingredients:
8 chicken breasts

Sauce:
3/4 cup hot salsa
1/4 cup peanut butter
2 tablespoons lime juice
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon fresh ginger

Toppings:
1/4 cup chopped peanuts
2 tablespoons cilantro

Side:
3 cups rice
1 cup coconut

Put the chicken breasts in the pot. Mix the sauce ingredients and pour on top. Cook on low for 8-9 hours.

Top with peanuts and cilantro.

Prepare rice as directed. Add 1/4 cup of coconut after the rice is fully cooked.

"Shower Song" by guest writer

It is my pleasure to introduce a new guest writer who I will call the Voice from the West.

He is an artist, a film maker, and a real hip dude. He likes singing in the shower, unexpected metaphors, and making me laugh.

In his first submission, "The Shower Song," the Voice of the West combines all of those passions:

It's clear why the tradition of singing in the shower began--the bathtub's design provides the quintessential acoustics for song.

With three perfectly positioned walls and a shower curtain, you receive––while, say, humming a tune––a touch of reverberation, and just the right amount of bass. For background percussion, you're accompanied by the gentle pattering of water as it strikes the tub floor. Close your eyes for a moment in any household shower and listen to your voice echo. You can almost imagine standing in a small cathedral, or huddled in the depths of the Himalayas in spring.

Millions of shy performers (a.k.a. bathroom singers) find solace in the shower. I am unquestionably one of them. But there is a stigma attached to this tradition that I would like to shake. Singing in the shower is thought of, in the popular canon, as a bashful, "amateur" hobby, to be kept behind closed doors.

In response to this terrific slander, should we not embrace our bathroom voices with vigor, like a noble giraffe embraces the highest boughs of a tree, or a pioneer embraces the savage unknown?

Let us wrench the bathroom door from its hinges for the whole neighborhood to hear. Shatter the walls of linoleum and marble with bebop and bluegrass. Let the shampoo dance and conditioner resonate.

We must sing so the bars of soap at our hips flow into honey, so the shower curtains flutter in rhapsody, and pools of water droplets nestle about us like throngs of fans on the eve of a moonlit concert.

Then, our tongues will ignite the great spirituals, hymnals, and anthems of old, and summon a new music––one that honors the sacred bathroom-singing tradition, and runs uncivil judgment down the drain. May our chants fill the plumbing and pipes, and soar in harmony with the millions of other naked, belting voices.

Long for the day of a proud, aquatic chorus. And hopefully, save a little hot water for the next singer.

Do a little. Change a lot.

T-mobile recently introduced the green account with the following tag line: "Do a little. Change a lot." I bet they spent a lot of green for that, but I like it.

I like green--the color (which happens to be the color of the packaging for my favorite ice cream ever) and the concept. It can save money and save space. Oh yeah, and then there's the whole saving the environment part.

Signing up for paperless updates and automatic bill pay is satisfying and immediately rewarding. Then you can file things electronically rather than in boxes. Wow. Less paper, less waste, less clutter. That's a win/win, I'd say.

It doesn't take long to make a few changes with your bills and to be a small part of a big change.

Happy Birthday, We Made You a Cake!

When I was a kid, I hated that my birthday was just days before Halloween. I didn't invite ghosts and goblins, so I didn't want them to show up at my parties. I didn't want to go running into the house looking for a bandage for a guest's gushing wound and return to a cluster of laughing boys tossing the "fake wound kit" around. I just wanted to have a regular old birthday party, thank you very much.

Speaking of birthdays, we celebrated my mom's with a Styrofoam cake one year. We were just little tykes and covered a piece of Styrofoam in icing. Dad told her that we (the tykes) worked really hard on it. When she cut through it, it squeaked and flaked away bit by bit. See, her birthday is today, April Fools' Day (happy birthday, Mom!).

April Fools' Day has a long, rich history. Even media outlets and corporations get in on the joke. A "documentary" in 1957 discussed Swiss spaghetti crops and in 1996, Taco Bell took ads out stating that the company had bought the historic Liberty Bell in an effort to reduce national debt. The ad said they were renaming the national treasure to "Taco Liberty Bell" and encouraged other corporations to help out in similar ways.

This year, g-mail joined in by introducing CADIE technology, which allows you to put your email on autopilot so you'll never have to read or write another message.

It also reports that it matches your style and tone with the following autopilot settings:

The technology also promises to help manage relationships, as demonstrated below:

Somehow, the jokes never seem to get old. I wonder if Mom would agree?