MadameBastet-Firing-Neurons
Happy Birthday America

Oh yay!!! I got home from the fireworks
extravaganda at the Bowl and one of the best
Twilight Zone episodes is on. It's the one where
the plane keeps flying around and gets lost in
time. They keep trying to get back to New York
but they've gone back in time and cannot get
back to the correct year; they're stuck in
1939 now - the year my mom was born.
At least they're not in outer space. I swear every single
marathon they always show every single space episode.
Now the pilot is telling the passengers they've flown
backwards in time. And I thought turbulence was
scary. Rod Serling was a fucking genius. If only he'd
figured out how bad cigarettes were for you.

The Hollywood Bowl was a lot more fun than I
thought it would be. I have that problem though.
I tend to dread all social events, but 9 times out
of 10, I end up having a good time. It's never as
good as I'd hoped...or as bad as I'd feared, to quote some moody
bastard. They've re-done the front of the Bowl...I don't think anyone's
seen the gorgeous art deco statue there
since the place opened in 1922. It really is
a spectacular venue; a gorgeous place to listen to
music outdoors. It was unbelievably warm tonight.
My fruit tarts melted into piles o' goo. So no fruit
tarts.

The show was the usual patriotic mishmash
with - get this - Kenny Loggins as the special
guest. Ok, when Jill told me this I was like,
Kenny Loggins? All I remembered about him
was that he did that song "Danger Zone" for Top
Gun. I thought he had disappeared. What a goof.

Not so! I actually knew SO many of his songs
it is scary! Hey, what about "Danny's Song"?
I love that sappy tune! It was really quite lovely;
Kenny stuck the microphone out and we all sang
"And even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with ya honey,
And everything will bring a chain of love.
And in the morning when I rise, you bring a tear of joy to my eyes,
And tell me everything is gonna be alright. "

It was so beautiful, hearing all the soft, lovely voices
echoing against the dark hills surrounding the iconic shell
on the stage. I'd totally forgotten he also did the song "I'm All
Right" which begins one of the funniest freakin' golf movies
ever - Caddyshack. That's some funny shit.

Ok, but here's the really scary part. I thought Kenny
looked really hot. Super sexy. I love his hands. I love
men's hands in general. But his are great hands. Long
fingers. Tan. I love to watch men do things with their
hands....yeah, like play guitar. What a cliche! I just sat
there and thought, I'd like to have some hot monkey sex
with Kenny. Obviously, I am more disturbed than anyone
previously thought.

Anyway, I have NO idea how old Kenny is;
he's got to be in his mid 50's at least. I mean
the man put out his first stuff when I was about
3 years old. But he's lookin' good and geez does
he have some serious fans! Mostly female of course
and they were cracking my friend Jill and I up so hard.
This one woman was truly 'dancing like no one was
watching' and I am not making fun - good for her,
but damn, it was a riot.

The night ended with truly incredible fireworks;
the orchestra played all sorts of patriotic tunes
and we ooooohed and aaaaahed and sang America
the Beautiful.

Now I am home and need to go finish my word
problems before I go to my grandma's house
for swimming and a bar-b-que tomorrow.
I was thinking of these women getting so
into Kenny, and I thought well hell woman,
in a few weeks that's gonna be you at the
Church concert - unless Steve has some kind
of nervous breakdown or something. Because
he seriously seems to have something going on.
I could be wrong, but right now, this does not
seem like a happy man.

And yet once upon a time, I looked at
those guys and thought "Oh they have it all."
I thought their lives were magical or
something. Especially Marty. I swear when
he put out his Art Attack CD, I used to listen
to it every night when I lived in Brentwood.
Every night around 7pm I went for a walk.
I lived in a really crappy apartment in a
very beautiful neighborhood. The voyeur
in me loved to walk at dusk, and peek into
the warm yellow glow of stranger's windows.
Not to see anything risque; on the contrary -
it was the ordinariness of stranger's lives
that fascinated me. The myriad events of the day,
collapsing gently into the arms of night,
the sounds of glasses clinking and silverware
and dishes and dinner conversations....the
different, often delicious scents of various
meals wafting out open windows....the cats
that sat in windowsills, the leaves swaying
in the summer breeze as I walked down
the sidewalks...Art Attack was the soundtrack
to that time in my life. I honestly thought
Marty lived with Ann in some kind
of gingerbread house in Sweden; he
sat by the fire with the cuckoo clock ticking
away, a modern day Dorian Grey. I think
I thought fuckin' fairies visited him and
he was so perfect with his shiny long hair
and his gorgeous bone structure and that
Ann, what a bitch she was! I thought surely
they just traveled the world, looking like
The Beautiful People, wearing fashionable
clothes and nothing bad or stupid or real
ever touched them.

I was 21. Naive isn't the word for it.
I had pixie dust in my eyes.
I've seen The Wizard of Oz.
You'd think I'd know that the
Wizard was just a small, frightened man
behind a big curtain.

Photo: The Hollywood Bowl Fourth of July Fireworks show