I'm interrupting the regularly scheduled Freebie Friday for a Guest Blogger!! Freebies will return tomorrow. I've been having a blah week which has turned around significantly because of great bloggers like Jenn from Three Pugs and a Baby!! I believe if someone excels at what they do you should give them free reign to unleash their creativity and BOY did Jenn WOW me!! I really enjoy reading her blog and you all will too! Head over to her blog and show some love!
Jenn, thank you so much for responding to me and reminding me yet again why I LOVE reading your blog!
**Guest Post for Remember Ember**
“Channeling my Grandmother”
Jenn at three pugs & a baby
When Ember put out the call for guest bloggers on Twitter, I was happy to throw myself in the ring. I love writing and I love the opportunity to work with other bloggers. She told me she wanted to add some fresh ideas to her blog, so the topic was totally in my hands.
Awesome! Free reign!
Unfortunately for me, I promised her this piece the week that my blogger’s block struck hard and fast. I was barely scraping up ideas for my own blog, let alone a guest post. But MacGyver saved the day, thanks to his questionable and awful television show preferences. Which brought me to both this post, and a crushing realization.
I’m getting old.
MacGyver was subjecting me to a brutal one-two punch by watching I Get That A Lot, followed by American Idol (the results show), during which I had to tolerate not only Ryan Seacrest, but also a Jonas Brother and a stage “performance” by that insufferable Justin Bieber.
And I was all “Who ARE these people?”
It was a train wreck of prime time viewing.
First up, The Jonas (which is what I’m going to call him because I don’t know which one it was and I’m not bothering to look it up). The premise of I Get That A Lot is that the producers put “celebrities” in a “regular job,” in this case, a teeny bopper retail store, and then they secretly film customers interacting with the “celebrity.” And if the secretly filmed customers say something like “Hey, you know, you really look like blah blah blah” the “celebrity” will say something witty like “Yeah, I Get That A Lot.”
What? You want to stab yourself in the eye with an ice pick? Here. Use mine.
So these girls are absolutely not buying The Jonas’acting skills at blowing them off and pretending he’s just a run of the mill retail employee who is so frustrated that members of the opposite sex think he looks like one of the most popular Teen Beat heartthrobs. Because A) any male that I know would capitalize on that little case of mistaken identity and B) if you really think that by pegging your jeans and wearing glasses a la Clark Kent, you’re going to throw off the Teenage Groupie Machine, you are so tragically wrong.
So I sat there, aghast (I still don’t know what this trio even lip syncs) at these young girls in skimpy clothes, swooning over this guy. And when The Jonas does the Big Reveal where he confesses that he is, in fact, The Jonas, I swear on all that is holy, this one girl swallowed her tongue.
And I channeled my grandmother and said: “What? At least Sinatra could sing! At least Elvis could dance! Swallow your tongue for an actual artist, not this kid! And put on some damn clothes!”
Then it was on to American Idol. The premise of AI used to be finding raw vocal talent among the youth of America and voting that raw talent straight into a stringent record deal. And making fun of Paula Abdul.
The new premise involves a lot of Ford commercials and awkward “exchanges” between Seacrest and the ever-surly Simon Cowell, who won’t be cajoled into wearing anything other than Hanes v-neck undershirts for live shows.
I think there’s also some singing.
On this night, we were promised a live performance by Justin Bieber.
I had never heard this boy-child sing. I had never really seen him do anything other than get in oversized SUVs, text, and make weird hand gestures (courtesy of the paparazzi on TMZ, another of MacGyver’s favorite shows).
He lived up to my expectations.
Which were not high.
I’m going to date myself here, but New Kids on the Block? They could sing. They actually had a shred of talent.
I’m not really sure what Bieber was doing on stage last night and I wish him well, but kid? Bank your money. Stop buying all those absurd skinny jeans and save up, so when your 15 minutes ends, and you end up on the VH1 special of Whatever Happened to dot dot dot Bieber?, you don’t look like one of the Coreys.
OMG. Do you hear me? I sound 60 years old.
If you read about me starting to look for a cuppa Sanka before I start my mornings, please feel free to put me out to pasture. And if you don’t know what Sanka is, please don’t tell me.
The knowledge that I could be past my sell by date would probably push me into the purchase of skinny jeans. And that’s the point of the no return.