ME: Hey Tim! We did it?
TIM: And what's that?
ME: We elected a President. The people spoke and a clear winner emerged. No dirty tricks, no shenanigans, no controversy. A clear, undisputed winner.
TIM: Shenanigans?
ME: Fine. It's a quaint, rather antiquated word, but it has its place.
TIM: Yes. Congratulations are in order. Do you feel better? You were struggling quite a bit with your choice.
ME: I feel like a million bucks.
TIM: Too bad your clothing choices will never reflect that.
ME: Oh, your slams about my fashion sense, or lack thereof, can't even bother me right now. We're still riding the elation of election night. It was beautiful and unifying.
TIM: Can I assume you voted for Obama?
ME: Oh, no one knows who I voted for.
TIM: What? You didn't shout from the rooftops who you voted for?
ME: Nope! I cried all the way to the voting booth. Cried and prayed. I didn't know my choice until I stepped up to the machine.
TIM: You're kidding! You seemed so dead-on certain after our last conversation.
ME: I know, huh! But that was just the beginning of my "editing out the drama" and thinking about things. It was a decisive moment for me. It clarified a lot of things but it didn't "seal the deal". I really struggled.
TIM: So, right up until the time you got into the booth? Seriously?
ME: Yep! The way I saw it, I had four choices. McCain, Obama, Keyes and Nader.
TIM: Wow.
ME: Exactly. I stood there and stood there and stood there...and then I realized that, it was going to happen exactly like it was supposed to happen so pick the man and be done with it. So I picked. Then I finished voting and walked out. That afternoon I bought two celebratory pies and went home.
TIM: So no one knows who you voted for? Not even your husband?
ME: Right.
TIM: And you're suffering under the illusion that people care, aren't you?
ME: Absolutely.
TIM: I'm speechless.
ME: SCORE!!!
Friday, November 7, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
TIM GUNN TALKS ABOUT THE ELECTION...
ME: Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh
TIM: Let's edit the drama. What's the problem.
ME: The election's coming.
TIM: And?
ME: I'm still not sure who I'm voting for. I'm that hideous demographic called "The Undecided"
TIM: Kind of like, "The UNdead"?
ME: Yea. I'll wish I was dead if I make the wrong choice.
TIM: There will be plenty of people to make that happen if it gets out who you voted for.
ME: Don't I know it!
TIM: I thought you were 100% behind Obama?
ME: Wrenches were thrown in the works. There were hitches in the giddy-up. Spin was spun.
TIM: Were you attacked by the cliche police?
ME: Something like that.
TIM: Quick! I need you to be more vague. I almost understand what you're saying.
ME: I know I know. I sound ridiculous. I really don't know who to vote for anymore. I've listened intently to both sides. They're both passionate. They both have good points. I thought if I "picked my battle" and just went with the candidate that best represented me on that particular issue, that priority, so to speak, then that would be that!
TIM: Okay, that's a plan. What happened?
ME: I can't come up with a definitive battle! There's just so many! So many people that I love and respect are voting for different people. There's no real consensus. No mandate.
TIM: So, you're picking other peoples' minds? You're trying to figure out what other people are doing? Am I hearing you correctly?
ME: It sounds like that doesn't it?
TIM: Excuse me. I'd like to speak with Deborah please.
ME: Tim, it's me.
TIM: No. I need Deborah. The loud-mouth blond Democrat that talks way too fast, dresses funny, sits weirdly, rocks too much, has poor taste in, well almost everything?
ME: Me again.
TIM: No, I'm not certain I know you.
ME: Fine. You have my attention Mr. Runs-into-the-room-with-Gunns-blazing. Spill.
TIM: Who are you? What is this? You were dead on certain about Obama for months. You even had a link to his website on your other blog; you know, the one that isn't as cerebral OR as interesting as this one. But since then, you've studied the issues, became politically active, even stomping for some issues. You involved your HEAD, as well as your HEART. What does this say about you?
ME: I went with my emotions when I supported Obama. I was seduced by his "feel good message". I didn't study things out thoroughly. Right?
TIM: Could be. Does that mean it's wrong to support him now?
ME: Not at all. He could still be the right man. But I have to support him now based on what my research tells me. I have to learn to balance my critical thinking skills with my emotional response. And if I'm using my critical thinking skills, McCain can and does have good points as well. In fact, there was a time, I'm thinking 2000, when I actually loved McCain. But was that emotional at THAT time as well? Am I getting it?
TIM: Yes, you're getting it. Now, continue to edit. Phase out the drama, bring in the rational thought. Step back, take a look. Look at your family. What are your immediate needs for the next year? The next four years? What are your priorities? Are they financial? Are they feelings of security? Are they morality issues? Which candidate will best represent what you're going to be about in the immediate future? Are you with me?
ME: Am I with you? Seriously? Just try to get way from me. No don't! That would totally require some kind of weird medication that I can't afford...no health care coverage...wait!...oh my gosh....HEALTH CARE COVERAGE!!!! BY CRACKY!!!! I THINK WE'VE DONE IT!!!!!
TIM: "WE" Do you have a multiple personality in your pocket? Oh wait...
TIM: Let's edit the drama. What's the problem.
ME: The election's coming.
TIM: And?
ME: I'm still not sure who I'm voting for. I'm that hideous demographic called "The Undecided"
TIM: Kind of like, "The UNdead"?
ME: Yea. I'll wish I was dead if I make the wrong choice.
TIM: There will be plenty of people to make that happen if it gets out who you voted for.
ME: Don't I know it!
TIM: I thought you were 100% behind Obama?
ME: Wrenches were thrown in the works. There were hitches in the giddy-up. Spin was spun.
TIM: Were you attacked by the cliche police?
ME: Something like that.
TIM: Quick! I need you to be more vague. I almost understand what you're saying.
ME: I know I know. I sound ridiculous. I really don't know who to vote for anymore. I've listened intently to both sides. They're both passionate. They both have good points. I thought if I "picked my battle" and just went with the candidate that best represented me on that particular issue, that priority, so to speak, then that would be that!
TIM: Okay, that's a plan. What happened?
ME: I can't come up with a definitive battle! There's just so many! So many people that I love and respect are voting for different people. There's no real consensus. No mandate.
TIM: So, you're picking other peoples' minds? You're trying to figure out what other people are doing? Am I hearing you correctly?
ME: It sounds like that doesn't it?
TIM: Excuse me. I'd like to speak with Deborah please.
ME: Tim, it's me.
TIM: No. I need Deborah. The loud-mouth blond Democrat that talks way too fast, dresses funny, sits weirdly, rocks too much, has poor taste in, well almost everything?
ME: Me again.
TIM: No, I'm not certain I know you.
ME: Fine. You have my attention Mr. Runs-into-the-room-with-Gunns-blazing. Spill.
TIM: Who are you? What is this? You were dead on certain about Obama for months. You even had a link to his website on your other blog; you know, the one that isn't as cerebral OR as interesting as this one. But since then, you've studied the issues, became politically active, even stomping for some issues. You involved your HEAD, as well as your HEART. What does this say about you?
ME: I went with my emotions when I supported Obama. I was seduced by his "feel good message". I didn't study things out thoroughly. Right?
TIM: Could be. Does that mean it's wrong to support him now?
ME: Not at all. He could still be the right man. But I have to support him now based on what my research tells me. I have to learn to balance my critical thinking skills with my emotional response. And if I'm using my critical thinking skills, McCain can and does have good points as well. In fact, there was a time, I'm thinking 2000, when I actually loved McCain. But was that emotional at THAT time as well? Am I getting it?
TIM: Yes, you're getting it. Now, continue to edit. Phase out the drama, bring in the rational thought. Step back, take a look. Look at your family. What are your immediate needs for the next year? The next four years? What are your priorities? Are they financial? Are they feelings of security? Are they morality issues? Which candidate will best represent what you're going to be about in the immediate future? Are you with me?
ME: Am I with you? Seriously? Just try to get way from me. No don't! That would totally require some kind of weird medication that I can't afford...no health care coverage...wait!...oh my gosh....HEALTH CARE COVERAGE!!!! BY CRACKY!!!! I THINK WE'VE DONE IT!!!!!
TIM: "WE" Do you have a multiple personality in your pocket? Oh wait...
Sunday, October 19, 2008
TIM GUNN TALKS EXISTENTIAL CRISES....OH NEVER MIND
TIM: Well, I'm feeling a bit spurned, rejected, left-out.
DEB: Are you serious?
TIM: It's been days Deborah! What am I to think when I don't hear from you for days on end?
DEB: Um, well, considering that I come to you when I'm experiencing internal conflict, I suppose you can consider me...I don't know....healthy?
TIM: Well, your mental health is absolutely alone-ville for moi.
DEB: Moi? Who are you, Ms Piggy?
TIM: Fine, you know what I mean though. You can't even stop in for a nice "Hello" or "Hi Tim, how are you" every once in awhile? You have to be tortured or upset to speak with me?
DEB: Tim, it's the nature of our relationship. You represent my angst, my struggle du jour.
TIM: I can't believe you just said "struggle du jour", what are you, a menu of emotional complaints? Do you get salad with that?
DEB: Been watching a lot of TV lately Timmy boy?
TIM: I have to kill time some how.
DEB: Books.
TIM: Looks who's talking! Earlene? A girl and her mac?
DEB: That's called "creative out letting".
TIM: You totally made that up.
DEB: Whatever.
TIM: !
DEB: Oh my gosh, now you're not speaking to me? Tim? Tim? You have to speak to me Tim. This is your blog! It's called "Tim Gunn's Voice", not Tim Gunn's Cold Shoulder! Why would anyone read Tim Gunn's Cold Shoulder?
TIM: I'd read it if the shoulder was turned against you!
DEB: You don't mean that.
TIM: *sniff*
DEB: Tim. I'm not that healthy. Really. The quarter's almost over. I have classes coming up that will crawl under my skin and send me raging against the system. You know this. It's just a matter of time before I am a loon....a raging loon...and to whom will I turn when that happens Tim? Huh? To whom?
TIM: Impressive use of grammar...
DEB: Thank you. I did it for you my friend.
TIM: Well, some one's going to have to be here for you. Goodness knows those men you live with can't handle existential crises or fragmented personality disorder. Fine. I'll stay here for awhile longer. Oh for crying out loud. Carry on!
DEB: *sigh*
Sunday, October 12, 2008
TIM GUNN TALKS SMACK...ER..."MAC"
TIM: You're smiling again. And that is seldom a good sign for anyone.
ME: Hahahah. Well! I've figured out that whole Youtube thing and I have mastered it.
TIM: You've "mastered" Youtube? Why is this a frightening thought?
ME: Don't be sceered. I've started posting silly little videos I've made with my Mac computer. I think they're funny so I started an account on Youtube so I could post them there.
TIM: And the point is?
ME: Is this where I say another pointy-head joke? Because you know I love pointy-head jokes?
TIM: No. Spare me. What exactly are you uploading to Youtube? And will I be sorry I asked?
ME: Here's what I do. This is my creative process.
TIM: I'm sorry already. Carry on.
ME: You're not sorry, you just love saying "carry on" and I love hearing it. We're a little dysfunctional like that.
TIM: Speak for yourself.
ME: I always do, you're in my head.
TIM: Oh for crying out loud...
ME: OKAY OKAY. Here's what I do; I turn on my Mac computer to the IPhoto. I switch on the video component and turn on one of those crazy visuals like a "squeeze head" or something where I'm all distorted. I look at myself and then, this crazy persona or character comes into my head and sort of takes over. I hear her voice, I get a sense of her story, and then I just start speaking it.
TIM: Speaking what?
ME: Her story! I'm not scripted or anything. I just take off. It's like I'm channeling or something. It's the funnest thing ever!!! You know how some people channel long lost spiritual giants? Well, apparently I channel embittered divorcees and old women with bad face lifts. I don't think I'm "evolved" enough to catch a being of light or a mystical warrior, maybe next lifetime, eh?
TIM: I see.
ME: Hey. That's what psychotherapists say.
TIM: Go on.
ME: They say that as well. Are you writing stuff down? Are you taking notes?
TIM: Why? Would that bother you?
ME: What are you doing Tim? Are you trying to psychotherapize me? What the heck Tim?
TIM: Don't get angry. I just find it curious that you're caught up in this activity of "channeling" other people's personalities?
ME: Oh, you mean like style gurus? You mean like imagining entire conversations with imaginary men? You mean like that Tim? TIM?
TIM: Hmmmmm. I suppose, on hindsight, there probably isn't anything horribly out of kilter about it? It sounds harmless really. It's actually quite humorous. I say "CARRY ON"!!!
ME: I thought that was what you were going to say.
TIM: Well, of course you did, you're brilliant like that...
ME: Hahahah. Well! I've figured out that whole Youtube thing and I have mastered it.
TIM: You've "mastered" Youtube? Why is this a frightening thought?
ME: Don't be sceered. I've started posting silly little videos I've made with my Mac computer. I think they're funny so I started an account on Youtube so I could post them there.
TIM: And the point is?
ME: Is this where I say another pointy-head joke? Because you know I love pointy-head jokes?
TIM: No. Spare me. What exactly are you uploading to Youtube? And will I be sorry I asked?
ME: Here's what I do. This is my creative process.
TIM: I'm sorry already. Carry on.
ME: You're not sorry, you just love saying "carry on" and I love hearing it. We're a little dysfunctional like that.
TIM: Speak for yourself.
ME: I always do, you're in my head.
TIM: Oh for crying out loud...
ME: OKAY OKAY. Here's what I do; I turn on my Mac computer to the IPhoto. I switch on the video component and turn on one of those crazy visuals like a "squeeze head" or something where I'm all distorted. I look at myself and then, this crazy persona or character comes into my head and sort of takes over. I hear her voice, I get a sense of her story, and then I just start speaking it.
TIM: Speaking what?
ME: Her story! I'm not scripted or anything. I just take off. It's like I'm channeling or something. It's the funnest thing ever!!! You know how some people channel long lost spiritual giants? Well, apparently I channel embittered divorcees and old women with bad face lifts. I don't think I'm "evolved" enough to catch a being of light or a mystical warrior, maybe next lifetime, eh?
TIM: I see.
ME: Hey. That's what psychotherapists say.
TIM: Go on.
ME: They say that as well. Are you writing stuff down? Are you taking notes?
TIM: Why? Would that bother you?
ME: What are you doing Tim? Are you trying to psychotherapize me? What the heck Tim?
TIM: Don't get angry. I just find it curious that you're caught up in this activity of "channeling" other people's personalities?
ME: Oh, you mean like style gurus? You mean like imagining entire conversations with imaginary men? You mean like that Tim? TIM?
TIM: Hmmmmm. I suppose, on hindsight, there probably isn't anything horribly out of kilter about it? It sounds harmless really. It's actually quite humorous. I say "CARRY ON"!!!
ME: I thought that was what you were going to say.
TIM: Well, of course you did, you're brilliant like that...
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
TIM GUNN EXPLAINS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN FRIENDSHIP AND APPEARANCES
TIM: My, you're happy.
ME: Oh I know! I reconnected with an old friend from high school back home. Turns out we only live a few miles apart and we're going to meet for dinner. Isn't that crazy? Thousands of miles from home and here we are, so close to one another. And we've been neighbors for seven years and didn't know about it!
TIM: What's her life like now?
ME: Well, it's probably nice. Her husband is a golf pro and she lives in a very exclusive neighborhood.
TIM: I see...go on.
ME: What do you mean, "go on"...that's it.
TIM: That's it? There's nothing else rolling around in that head of yours? You're not consciously or unconsciously comparing your lives?...your looks?...your neighborhoods?
ME: Tim, it's not like that between us. We're old friends.
TIM: Who haven't spoken in almost ten years and have managed to miss seeing each other despite being neighbors for seven of those years.
ME: Well, her life lead her down a different path. She married into some money, divorced, married a golf pro and lives a very nice life. That isn't to say she hasn't had her internal struggles, we all have.
TIM: But she didn't have any material struggles, right? She's never had to "Donna Summer" it.
ME: Tim, that's a relatively obscure cultural reference that few people would get. Did you mean to say she's never had to "work hard for the money"?
TIM: Of course I did. I was being hip.
ME: Stop that.
TIM: Holla at cha boy.
ME: STOP IT!
TIM: So, you're about to have dinner with an old friend from the past who hasn't shared your struggles. She's led a relatively privileged existence while you have, shall we say, NOT. She's traveled the world and in fact just returned from a "jaunt" to Italy with her daughter and you have...
ME: Boldly sped around the switch backs of Aguanga on the back way to Temecula.
TIM: Nice try. There are no switch backs in Aguanga.
ME: I know. But it sounded fierce...just for a second.
TIM: Where are you dining?
ME: A gourmet pizza place on El Paseo in Palm Desert.
TIM: Perfect.
ME: I know! Who gets dressed up for pizza?
TIM: You do, apparently.
ME: Yea, whatever. I just want to visit with my old friend. We had so much fun speaking together on the phone. We talked about her mother and her father. She asked about my mom, whom she always loved. In fact, our mothers are neighbors now! She said she loved California, as I do, but that she couldn't find any real friends and that just the other day she has said a prayer she could find a good friend and voila!...she found my name on some weird classmate reunion thing that I had just joined the day before. It seems providential.
TIM: Then what are you worried about?
ME: I WASN'T worried! You were the one with the weird doubts and questions.
TIM: Deborah, you know how this works. My purpose is to give voice to your unspoken thoughts and concerns and internal conflicts and then provide a rational response viz a viz "my" voice so you can feel better about things, right?
ME: Look, if you explain it in those terms, it's not quite as effective. You have to remain in character or else I just appear needy and a tad psychotic.
TIM: Fine. *clearing throat* Deborah, you and this woman were friends way before "life" stepped in between the two of you. You are coming from a "shared base"; a common root system. The bond you created during your adolescence appears to have remained intact as evidenced by the emails and phone conversation each of you have shared. For goodness sake, your new found friend actually prayed to find a companion before finding you! I know you well enough to know that THAT particular information unfurled your faith flag and it is wavingly proudly. My suggestion is for you to go to lunch and enjoy your friend. Listen to her life. Listen to the silences between the words. Look for her story in her eyes. Reconnect those 15-year-old hearts that spent so much time together in deep discussion, playing with her poodle and tanning by the pool. Just because life appears easy doesn't mean a thing. Not. One. Thing.
ME: Well said Tim. I couldn't have said it better myself.
ME: Oh I know! I reconnected with an old friend from high school back home. Turns out we only live a few miles apart and we're going to meet for dinner. Isn't that crazy? Thousands of miles from home and here we are, so close to one another. And we've been neighbors for seven years and didn't know about it!
TIM: What's her life like now?
ME: Well, it's probably nice. Her husband is a golf pro and she lives in a very exclusive neighborhood.
TIM: I see...go on.
ME: What do you mean, "go on"...that's it.
TIM: That's it? There's nothing else rolling around in that head of yours? You're not consciously or unconsciously comparing your lives?...your looks?...your neighborhoods?
ME: Tim, it's not like that between us. We're old friends.
TIM: Who haven't spoken in almost ten years and have managed to miss seeing each other despite being neighbors for seven of those years.
ME: Well, her life lead her down a different path. She married into some money, divorced, married a golf pro and lives a very nice life. That isn't to say she hasn't had her internal struggles, we all have.
TIM: But she didn't have any material struggles, right? She's never had to "Donna Summer" it.
ME: Tim, that's a relatively obscure cultural reference that few people would get. Did you mean to say she's never had to "work hard for the money"?
TIM: Of course I did. I was being hip.
ME: Stop that.
TIM: Holla at cha boy.
ME: STOP IT!
TIM: So, you're about to have dinner with an old friend from the past who hasn't shared your struggles. She's led a relatively privileged existence while you have, shall we say, NOT. She's traveled the world and in fact just returned from a "jaunt" to Italy with her daughter and you have...
ME: Boldly sped around the switch backs of Aguanga on the back way to Temecula.
TIM: Nice try. There are no switch backs in Aguanga.
ME: I know. But it sounded fierce...just for a second.
TIM: Where are you dining?
ME: A gourmet pizza place on El Paseo in Palm Desert.
TIM: Perfect.
ME: I know! Who gets dressed up for pizza?
TIM: You do, apparently.
ME: Yea, whatever. I just want to visit with my old friend. We had so much fun speaking together on the phone. We talked about her mother and her father. She asked about my mom, whom she always loved. In fact, our mothers are neighbors now! She said she loved California, as I do, but that she couldn't find any real friends and that just the other day she has said a prayer she could find a good friend and voila!...she found my name on some weird classmate reunion thing that I had just joined the day before. It seems providential.
TIM: Then what are you worried about?
ME: I WASN'T worried! You were the one with the weird doubts and questions.
TIM: Deborah, you know how this works. My purpose is to give voice to your unspoken thoughts and concerns and internal conflicts and then provide a rational response viz a viz "my" voice so you can feel better about things, right?
ME: Look, if you explain it in those terms, it's not quite as effective. You have to remain in character or else I just appear needy and a tad psychotic.
TIM: Fine. *clearing throat* Deborah, you and this woman were friends way before "life" stepped in between the two of you. You are coming from a "shared base"; a common root system. The bond you created during your adolescence appears to have remained intact as evidenced by the emails and phone conversation each of you have shared. For goodness sake, your new found friend actually prayed to find a companion before finding you! I know you well enough to know that THAT particular information unfurled your faith flag and it is wavingly proudly. My suggestion is for you to go to lunch and enjoy your friend. Listen to her life. Listen to the silences between the words. Look for her story in her eyes. Reconnect those 15-year-old hearts that spent so much time together in deep discussion, playing with her poodle and tanning by the pool. Just because life appears easy doesn't mean a thing. Not. One. Thing.
ME: Well said Tim. I couldn't have said it better myself.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
TIM GUNN GIVES "VOICE" LESSONS...
TIM: So I couldn't help but notice how much straighter you're sitting. Any particular reason?
ME: Am I really sitting straighter?
TIM: Oh, you certainly are. You hadn't noticed?
ME: Hmmmm, I guess it must be subconscious. A reaction to my latest endeavor.
TIM: If I turn and walk away will I be spared the details or will you spill them anyway?
ME: Oh no, they're comin' at cha big boy. They're spilling...clean up on aisle Tim.
TIM: *eyeglasses temples in mouth* Spill.
ME: I'm practicing writing in my "scholarly voice". It's fun. You wanna hear it?
TIM: *bent over shaking*
ME: Oh my gosh! Are you laughing? Seriously, are you laughing at me?
TIM: Oh my dear, that is priceless. No, seriously, what are you really doing.
ME: I was serious! Yikes, I can be a scholar! I can use a scholarly voice.
TIM: Oh stop it, you're killing me. Oh, my sides....this is so rich...
ME: Dude! I just summarized a heavily researched article in a peer-reviewed journal on organizational leadership regarding goal-conflict and it's relationship to budgeting constraints between athletics and academics and the effect, if any, on the academic health and personal well-being of students.
TIM: And you just referred to me as "dude" before you launched into your defense.
ME: Rats
TIM: Yea...
ME: Hmmmmmm....
TIM: Your posture isn't as straight anymore.
ME: Well, of course not, I was set down a notch or two.
TIM: Are you going to use your "scholarly voice" at the dinner table or when you speak with your grandchildren?
ME: No.
TIM: You're not going to use that ram-rod straight spine of yours to play with them either. Relax. No one loves you because of any "voice". They love you because of your words. Go sit in that rocker you're so fond of and curl up in that obnoxious little ball thingy you do.
ME: Awwwwww, Dude.......
TIM: We'll discuss THAT voice another time.
ME: Am I really sitting straighter?
TIM: Oh, you certainly are. You hadn't noticed?
ME: Hmmmm, I guess it must be subconscious. A reaction to my latest endeavor.
TIM: If I turn and walk away will I be spared the details or will you spill them anyway?
ME: Oh no, they're comin' at cha big boy. They're spilling...clean up on aisle Tim.
TIM: *eyeglasses temples in mouth* Spill.
ME: I'm practicing writing in my "scholarly voice". It's fun. You wanna hear it?
TIM: *bent over shaking*
ME: Oh my gosh! Are you laughing? Seriously, are you laughing at me?
TIM: Oh my dear, that is priceless. No, seriously, what are you really doing.
ME: I was serious! Yikes, I can be a scholar! I can use a scholarly voice.
TIM: Oh stop it, you're killing me. Oh, my sides....this is so rich...
ME: Dude! I just summarized a heavily researched article in a peer-reviewed journal on organizational leadership regarding goal-conflict and it's relationship to budgeting constraints between athletics and academics and the effect, if any, on the academic health and personal well-being of students.
TIM: And you just referred to me as "dude" before you launched into your defense.
ME: Rats
TIM: Yea...
ME: Hmmmmmm....
TIM: Your posture isn't as straight anymore.
ME: Well, of course not, I was set down a notch or two.
TIM: Are you going to use your "scholarly voice" at the dinner table or when you speak with your grandchildren?
ME: No.
TIM: You're not going to use that ram-rod straight spine of yours to play with them either. Relax. No one loves you because of any "voice". They love you because of your words. Go sit in that rocker you're so fond of and curl up in that obnoxious little ball thingy you do.
ME: Awwwwww, Dude.......
TIM: We'll discuss THAT voice another time.
Monday, September 29, 2008
TIM GUNN ON AGING ISSUES
TIM: What's that smell?
ME: I'm fine. And yourself?
TIM: No really. What is that?
ME: That's my sore knee. I speed-walked today and now I'm paying for it. It's an ointment the doctor prescribed.
TIM: You mean unguent.
ME: What is an "unguent"?
TIM: Deborah, I came from your head, that word was in there. You must know what it means.
ME: Whatever. I need to treat the knee and prescription salve is the treatment of choice.
TIM: What's wrong with good old-fashioned aspirin? The swelling goes down, the pain goes away, and no one smells your problem.
ME: Well, it's not good for the alimentary canal, it doesn't cut it in the pain department and this is less invasive.
TIM: Speak for yourself, my olfactory system has been invaded plenty.
ME: Your olfactory will recover.
TIM: What's wrong with your knee anyway?
ME: It's refusing to play well with the rest of us. We, collectively the rest-of-my-body-mind-and-spirit, are actually quite young at heart; but the old knees are grumpy old things that refuse to get along. They ache and moan and cause problems.
TIM: Hmmmmmm, sounds like some people I know...and by "some people" I mean certain bloggers who have imaginary conversations with style gurus.
ME: Hey! I am not an achy, moany, problem-causing blogger. I am fun. I am youthful. I am.....covered in unguent complaining about my joints. Oh my gosh, I'm old.
TIM: No no no...you're not technically "old"...you're just biking toward the exit ramp. You'll get there one day, but just don't kid yourself that you'll never make that turn-off. Enjoy the ride, take in the scenery. It's alright to know that the exit ramp to senior-ville is ahead, perhaps even way ahead, but you can go in style. You can even wear those leggings you're so fond of.
ME: So, I'm doing relatively okay on this aging journey?
TIM: You're doing "relatively okay"...just don't throw away the aspirins.
ME: I'm fine. And yourself?
TIM: No really. What is that?
ME: That's my sore knee. I speed-walked today and now I'm paying for it. It's an ointment the doctor prescribed.
TIM: You mean unguent.
ME: What is an "unguent"?
TIM: Deborah, I came from your head, that word was in there. You must know what it means.
ME: Whatever. I need to treat the knee and prescription salve is the treatment of choice.
TIM: What's wrong with good old-fashioned aspirin? The swelling goes down, the pain goes away, and no one smells your problem.
ME: Well, it's not good for the alimentary canal, it doesn't cut it in the pain department and this is less invasive.
TIM: Speak for yourself, my olfactory system has been invaded plenty.
ME: Your olfactory will recover.
TIM: What's wrong with your knee anyway?
ME: It's refusing to play well with the rest of us. We, collectively the rest-of-my-body-mind-and-spirit, are actually quite young at heart; but the old knees are grumpy old things that refuse to get along. They ache and moan and cause problems.
TIM: Hmmmmmm, sounds like some people I know...and by "some people" I mean certain bloggers who have imaginary conversations with style gurus.
ME: Hey! I am not an achy, moany, problem-causing blogger. I am fun. I am youthful. I am.....covered in unguent complaining about my joints. Oh my gosh, I'm old.
TIM: No no no...you're not technically "old"...you're just biking toward the exit ramp. You'll get there one day, but just don't kid yourself that you'll never make that turn-off. Enjoy the ride, take in the scenery. It's alright to know that the exit ramp to senior-ville is ahead, perhaps even way ahead, but you can go in style. You can even wear those leggings you're so fond of.
ME: So, I'm doing relatively okay on this aging journey?
TIM: You're doing "relatively okay"...just don't throw away the aspirins.
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