Glib Paramount Exec Axes Cruise

Paramount Pictures recently severed ties with Tom Cruise’s film production company, Cruise/Wagner Productions. Tom’s partner Paula Wagner stated that the split was due to failed financial negotiations and not because Tom is as mad as a hatter.

Cruise/Wagner Productions has been responsible for the following movies, which also starred Tom Cruise:

• Mission: Impossible I, II and III
• The Last Samurai
• Minority Report
• Vanilla Sky
• War of the Worlds

In recent years, the deal with Paramount paid Cruise up to $10 million a year to develop films and operate an office on the Paramount lot. This is how the deal worked for Tom Cruise:

Paycheck #1: Tom gets 10 million dollars a year to develop films.
Paycheck #2: Tom earns 20 million dollars to star in the film he was paid to develop.
Paycheck #3: Tom earns producer money on top of the 30 million he already earned.

Virtually any male actor under the age of 45 could have starred in War of the Worlds. Special effects and computer graphics made that movie worth watching, not Mr. Cruise’s skills as an actor. (Don’t get me started on Dakota Fanning and her constant screaming.)

So, poor Tom will have to live on 10 million dollars less this year. But since The Church of Scientology gets 10-15% of his earnings, he will really only be out somewhere in the neighborhood of 8.5 to 9 million dollars.

I don’t think baby Suri will have to wear outfits from Target.

Hurricane Katrina Anniversary

Anyone not living under a rock last year saw the devastation Hurricane Katrina brought to New Orleans and the Gulf Coast region. But many people don’t know that Katrina devastated South Florida first. I know because I was there.

On August 25, 2005 Hurricane Katrina knocked out power to over 1 million people, including me and my husband. Although it was only a Category 1 hurricane, we were without power for 3 days in nearly 90 degree heat and even higher humidity.

The first night was kind of fun. We listened to the storm, lit candles, played the radio (on battery power) and played Scrabble. After the storm blew through, the temperature was in the low 80’s and the humidity wasn’t too bad. We took perishable food from the refrigerator and cooked most of it on the grill, had a candle-lit dinner and went to bed early. We didn’t sleep well because it was warm, but it wasn’t too bad. Yet.

On the second day, reality set in. We used the last of the hot water for our morning showers and heard a report on the radio warning local residents that water might soon be unsafe or possible unavailable due to power being out at the water treatment plants. I never thought about it before, but they use electricity to power the pumps that send treated water out into the public water lines. No power, no way to treat the water; no pumps, no water pressure.

For something to do, we walked around the neighborhood to see the storm damage. There were downed trees, branches and debris; roofs were missing tiles or had gaping holes, and windows were smashed. Cars were crushed by fallen trees, windshields were smashed, interiors flooded. Mobile home roofs were ripped off, walls were collapsed, fences were down, the canals were overflowing, and there was trash everywhere. Homeowners were attempting to cover their houses and clean up debris. Power lines were down; billboards, street signs and traffic lights were down. A local man was killed by a tree that fell on him while he was assessing storm damage in his yard.

We cooked our meals on the grill. Our hurricane food supplies consisted mostly of canned soup and ravioli, plus peanut butter, bread, and canned chicken for sandwiches. We had plenty of water and soda but no ice. Warm soda is nasty, so we stuck to the water. When the sun went down, we lit candles and played board games again while listening to news reports on the radio, but it was too hot to sit near the candles so the games ended early. The night was long and sweaty and miserable.

The third day was awful. The temperature was higher and so was the humidity. The smell of rotting trash, rotten food, and body odor began to pervade the neighborhood. The water pressure was down to a trickle, so no showers. To flush our toilets, we transferred (in buckets) the water we had previously stored in our bathtub. Daylight made it possible to read, but we were getting pretty bored. That afternoon, we heard on the radio that power to the Sawgrass Mills Mall had been restored, so we decided to check it out. It was a dangerous drive, due to downed power lines and debris, but the respite from the heat, humidity and boredom was worth it. After a few hours at the mall I felt human again.

For safety reasons, we decided to drive back home before the sun set. Within a few hours the restorative powers of the mall air conditioning had worn off. By that night I was in hell. I couldn’t sleep; it was just too hot and humid. I tossed and turned and sweated. By 2 a.m. I gave up and went to sit in the living room. I was so weary from lack of sleep and crazy from the heat that I began to sob. It was a good thing that the power came back on that night because in a few more hours I would have completely lost my mind.

Within a few days the gas stations and grocery stores reopened, trash was being cleaned up, and life was getting back to normal. Things could have been much worse, and I soon learned exactly what “much worse” looks like. After watching Katrina destroy the Gulf Coast, buying basic hurricane supplies (like canned goods and batteries) was no longer enough to make me feel prepared or safe.

When Hurricane Wilma barreled down on us two months later, I left town.

I Can’t Sleep (Written at 3:30 a.m.)

When I was younger, my favorite activity was sleeping. Everything about sleep is great… that half-conscious, slipping off the edge into nothingness feeling that precedes sleep; my nice warm bed; soft, fluffy pillows, that satisfied, well-rested feeling you have the morning after getting a good nights sleep, and the first stretch of the day…aaahh.

I can’t remember the last time I had a good nights sleep. I have trouble falling asleep, I have trouble staying asleep, and most mornings I wake up feeling like I never really got into a deep state of sleep. I miss feeling well-rested and alert first thing in the morning and I hate feeling tired in the middle of the day. I’m afraid if I take a nap I won’t be able to sleep again that night.

This has been going on (sporadically) for over a year now. I have been offered various prescription drugs to help me sleep, but they all have nasty side effects so I’ve been reluctant to try them. Valerian root doesn’t work and it smells really bad. Melatonin helps me fall asleep but I don’t get deep sleep when I take it and I wind up feeling groggy the next morning and tired all day.

I’ve read numerous articles on sleep disturbances and insomnia. The experts say you should have a bedtime routine and observe the same regimen nightly. You should go to bed and wake up at the same time on weekends as you do during the week. Make sure the room is a cool, comfortable temperature and very dark; don’t let pets sleep in the bed with you; wear earplugs and play white noise to block out disruptive sounds. I do all of that, and yet I still can’t sleep.

Guess I’ll go back to bed now. If I don’t get some sleep soon I’m gonna go fight club crazy.

Freaked out Cats

I have several nature sound CDs. I find them relaxing because they make good ambient sounds which don’t overwhelm or distract, and yet they make the house seem less quiet. Too much silence can be maddening.

Recently, I bought a new CD entitled “Sounds of the Rainforest” and I decided to play it this morning. It starts off with cricket-sounding insect chirps, a babbling brook, a waterfall, the breeze rustling through the trees, and a few bird calls thrown in for good measure. Good stuff.

Then the monkeys start howling. Who thought that would be relaxing?

Kitty was resting on her favorite pillow in the living room and when the monkeys started to scream she jumped off her perch, stood on full alert, eyes wide and ears raised, looking around like she expected to find an intruder. She was totally freaked out. Then Misty ran into the room to join Kitty in Operation Kill the Monkey.

I don’t think I’ll be listening to that CD again.

Summer Fun

For the past few months, I’ve been getting e-mails from my 9 year-old niece. She lives in PA in the same town where I grew up, and lately she’s been telling me all about her summer vacation.

So far, she has been to Hershey Park, Dorney Park, Hampton Lanes (bowling), and Skate-A-Way (indoor roller skating rink). She has been to the movies, swam in her friend’s pool, had a sleep-over, went out for pizza, and saw fireworks. She has also been riding her new bike and she just returned from a week at the shore. I'm exhausted just thinking about it!

All of the things she has done this summer are the same things I did growing up. It’s nice to know that little kids haven’t changed much over the last 30 years and that they still get to have good, clean fun.

Of course this also means that nothing has changed in my quiet little white-bred, podunk blue-collar corn-growing Lehigh Valley hometown. *

Oh, well. At least she’s not rotting her brain in front of the TV.







*My apologies to Matt and Trey.

Screw the Airport

Assuming my vacation destination is less than 1000 miles away I think I’d rather drive than put up with the aggravation of airport security. It will certainly cut down on annoying searches, seizures, dehydration, and sitting next to a fat guy who is using my armrest.

Considering the amount of time it takes to:
• drive to the airport (20 min.)
• park and take a shuttle to the terminal (30 min.)
• walk through the airport (20 min.)
• stand in line at the security check point (60 min.+)
• check in, wait for boarding (90 min.)
• board (20 min.)
• fly (3 hrs.)
• disembark(20 min.)
• pick up luggage(30 min.)
• walk through airport and wait for taxi or shuttle(30 min.)
• taxi to hotel (20 min.)

This process takes about 8 hours. I would rather get in my car and take an 8 hour road trip. Sure, gas is expensive but so is airfare. Plus, the aggravation of flying has increased and is now nearly beyond my ability to tolerate. First they make me take off my shoes, my coat, empty my pockets, and check my unlocked luggage filled with all of my belongings (which I always fear I may never see again). Then I get to sit in an uncomfortable seat next to people I don’t know; I can’t use my phone, I can only use my laptop and mp3 player when they say I may, and if I try to go to the bathroom when the seatbelt sign is illuminated I run the risk of being tackled by a flight attendant.

I live near Phoenix and there are hundreds of places to go and things to do that are within 8 hours of my home. I can go to the Grand Canyon, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, San Diego, New Mexico, Texas; and the list goes on.

Road trip!

Leaving on a Jet Plane?

All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go…wait a minute. I can’t take that shampoo, conditioner, hand lotion, lipstick, sun tan lotion, face cream, toothpaste, contact lens solution, or hair gel in my carry-on bag. Toss that bottled water, too. Thanks to insane terrorists, if I need to pack anything liquid, cream or gel I have to check my bag.

I hate checking luggage. I’m always afraid I’m going to arrive at my destination to find that my bag has been accidentally routed to Hawaii and is now having a better vacation than I am. If I’m going on a short trip, I try to put everything in a carry-on bag. Tiny bottles of shampoo, conditioner, mini hand lotion and lens solution, just big enough to last a few days, have always been a regular part of my carry-on packing routine. If I take a nap on the plane, when I wake up I need to put drops in my eyes to loosen the grip my contact lenses form on my eyes. Sometimes I need a decongestant or some Advil, so I’ve always travelled with a bottle of water. Now I’ll have to wait for the flying waitresses to bring me a drink. Plus I have to hope against hope that my bag and all of its contents will arrive before it’s time for me to turn around and go back home.

I haven’t taken many trips since 9/11/01 but now, thanks to this new wave of idiot terrorists, I will be even more inconvenienced when I fly. Eventually we’ll all be flying in the nude. That’s not a pretty picture.

Looks like I’ll be driving to Vegas this year.

Blue Christmas

The other day I got an email from my mother asking for Christmas gift suggestions. Already?! It’s only August!

I used to be one of those people who start their Christmas shopping in September, finish by Halloween and have everything wrapped by Thanksgiving. This practice allowed me to shop when stores weren’t crowded and gave me plenty of time to find the perfect gift for everyone on my list. It also spread out the joy of giving over several months; I could imagine my son’s smiling face weeks before he would see the gifts. Sure, there was occasionally an item on his list to Santa that I hadn’t anticipated, but it was much easier to run to the store for one or two things than to buy everything when the toy store was packed with frantic parents. Plus I had the entire month of December to decorate, bake cookies, and watch holiday programs on TV. As the song says, it was the most wonderful time of the year.

The first Christmas after my son’s death was excruciatingly painful. I thought I had prepared for his absence by planning a trip away from home during the holiday. If Christmas was out of sight, surely it could be out of mind. I told my family that I was skipping Christmas that year and, with the exception of my niece and nephew, they shouldn’t expect gifts from me. Everyone gave me a pass that year; they had some idea how hard it was for me.

We were living in Florida at the time, and my husband and I drove to Key West on Christmas Eve Day and spent the next few days ignoring the fact that it was Christmas. We ate seafood and Key Lime pie, shopped in quaint little stores, and took a day cruise on a sailboat. It was a nice trip, but every night in the hotel, after my husband went to bed, I cried myself to sleep.

The second Christmas without our son was equally hard, plus I was no longer given a pass by the rest of my family. They expected me to carry on as before and they tried their hardest not to let me avoid the holiday again. I started receiving emails with Christmas gift suggestions and party invitations. They were all trying to get me back in the spirit of things, but it felt forced. Sure, I could send cards and buy gifts but my heart wasn’t in it because the person I really wanted to buy presents for was gone. Again, I ignored the holiday as much as I could. There was no tree, no gaily wrapped gifts, no carols, no cookies and no Bing Crosby movies. I bought gifts for my niece and nephew but everyone else got a gift certificate. I used the fact that we were moving back to Arizona in January as an excuse to avoid the family gathering at my brother’s house. I wasn’t ready to sit and watch everyone else play happy family. I felt like the Grinch.

I don’t know how this Christmas is going to turn out. Like I said, my mother is already pestering me for gift ideas. Holiday gatherings are already being planned, airline tickets have been bought, and it has been mentioned that it would be nice if I could join everyone this year.

I miss the rituals of the holiday season, but they hold no meaning for me anymore. I was never a very religious person; for me, Christmas was always a secular celebration of family. But I don’t feel like celebrating anymore. I haven’t decided whether I’m up to the task of faking it this year, but the calendar still has a few pages left before December rolls around again. I’m in no hurry.

Everyone Has a Website

It’s like information doesn’t exist anymore unless there’s a “www.” before it. When people need information, they use an internet search engine to find it. When I was a kid, I went to the library to look things up in encyclopedias. Encyclopedias! I also had a dictionary and a thesaurus.

I sound like a dinosaur.

People used to get their news from the newspaper. My grandparents got the paper twice a day, the morning and evening editions. Now, any information that’s printed in the paper is more like “old news” than news. I get the Sunday paper for the comics and the coupons.

I love to read. I go to the library at least once a month. Last week I read “The Tennant of Wildfell Hall” by Anne Brontë. Somehow, I can’t picture myself sitting in front of a monitor reading a piece of literature or fiction. Call me old fashioned, but I like to hold a book in my hands and turn the pages.

Zen Death Poem

Since time began
the dead alone know peace.
Life is but melting snow.
--Nandai


I'm in a mood today. Don't mind me; I'm sure it will pass.