Celebrity Interviews: http://www.bluntreview.com Blunterettes , I lead a truly strange life as film reviewer and celebrity interviewer Emily Blunt of BluntReview.com...this is true. In the a.m. it's off to interview a celeb, and by the afternoon, I am dining off The 99 Cent Store products, in the evening - it's gowns and petit fours among the "elite." Oh, this double-life that's mine. You wanna know what I'm up to? Sure, here you go.

Sunday, April 24, 2005

Bookworms Unite & Devil Doll Memories

My friend turns to me and says, "You realize if a an attack of terrorism were to happen right here - right now - ninety percent of Los Angeles' intelligent peoples would be gone..." as she turned and gleefully skipped forward to get her Holly Claus book signed.

Hmm, could the LA Bookfair at UCLA really have this kind of patronage?
I actually started to notice the folks beside, infront, behind me - yep they sure was sum smart people. And, not just obvious by their bag-o-book purchases, or their larger cranium foreheads and such...but the whole air was less frenetic, less of that, "look at me - and please note my 2000.00 jacket,- I'll have a cafe latte skim soy with a dash of equal and a froth of half-fat creme" - crowd.

The children were polite, the families huddled in conversation about classics! I thought," Was that Dickens that small child and her friend were just DEBATING?" Sigh.

Oh, I was just smitten - and on top on the whole non-superficially feel - folks were genuinely smiling -aware no doubt- of the world that awaited them when they got their treasures home and snuggled up for a good read. I'd bet the electric intake was just a smidge lighter in the Los Angeles County area this evening; computers quiet, TVs off, radios resting.

Me? Well, I admit I have a large library bursting from every nook-and-cranny. But I ended up with a musical find; "Sacred Sounds of Santeria" a CD filled with Cuban drum bata ensembles and choral singers (I mean, really, who could resist?).

But, my big purchase was for my "big" brother - his birthday is not till July but he's tricky. He may be forty-something, BUT he's still my big brother who snuck me into see Fast Times at Ridgemont High, covered for me when I skipped to catch a Beatlefest in Harvard Sq., turned me on to Monty Python and yet always tortured me with his odd ever-pubescent potty-humor...boys and poop humor.

So year after year I try to get that twinkle in his eye gift(make "Mr. Dad" lose his suburbian cool)I try to win his hearty kid-like laugh buried beneath all the adult responsibilty-shenanigans he deals with. I take this gift selection VERY serious.

One year my gift was the absolute hands down winner of all time for "Creepiest Gift Ever Given In Our Ancestry" - a title that is coveted in this family beleive you-me. I was so proud.

What was it? Well, it was a kind of "doll couple" made of stuffed hosiery (think generic Cabbage Patch doll-at-home kit). They featured embossed via stitching noses, and mouths and evil button eyes, and real curly hair atop (which looked suspiciously like pubic). They were dressed in "home-made" his&her felt wedding attire - they were about eight inches - though we are not REALLY quite sure because...These hiddeous creations were crammed (shoved)into a jam jar and glued shut. I kid you not. A Holly Hobbie nightmare...The pair-in-a-jar were a thrift shop find - and obviously someone's grand idea of homecrafting folk art. YECH. Hehehehe - yet, they were the best 1.00 purchase I'd ever made.

That strange jarred-up couple went year to year, home to home, kin to kin, "surfacing" as the " gag gift" to-end-all gags. Each birthday and Christmas we knew one of us would get them -- and have to pass them on.

My mother hated the dreadful looking Carny-esque duo. After she got them, under the tree, in a swanky five foot box with oodles of bows and ornamental dohingies, they simply disappeared. The next family gift-giving event was a little sad. And Mommie Dearest's guilt was blazon like a scarlet letter - T (Trasher of the Trinket). BUT my niece actually found another of these crafty creeps - albeit a far less sinister doll is now among us. It is a baby (we think), as it's seems to be wearing a diaper-- it's got that same creepy hair attached atop it's head (shudder), and of course it's crammed into that same style jam jar--glued. Viola! The tradition continues!

So, what new treasure do I find for my brother among the Ray Bradbury's and the 1st edition Che Cookbooks, and volumes of mysteries Sherlock would peruse? A title, "Who Cut the Cheese? A Cultural History of the Fart." I shit you not (pun intended). The cover has all these Victorian dressed folks prim and proper in facial contortions! Hehehehe. Inside the Index is too funny- Like, " What did Jesus REALLY mean when he said onto the Devil, "Get Ye Behind Me Satan!"? The book is a serious (comical) historical "guide" to, perhaps , every fart reference ever made - Salvador Dali was very into farts, as was Mozart, even Twain! Who knew Larue? I bought it--immediately. My friends also went back and bought several copies - the tent now a flutter with the commotion - as we wept with laughter and threw money at the clerk - who looked as if he truly felt bad for us. Bah. It was a grand find. (AMAZON LINK to book)

I also got a 'theater on tape' with my demi-god Jason Robards, "Park the Car in Harvard Yard." Five U.S. Dollars...

A glorious day!


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