Musing: Hairbands


I started to let my hair grow before the pandemic hit.  It has gotten quite long. I keep spending money on things to keep it out of my face.  Pony tail holders, barrettes, etc.  The one thing I really want is a hairband that works as well as my glasses.

Not one hairband stays in my hair. My glasses do, though. Putting my glasses atop my head is a bad habit, I know. It stretches the bows (temples) so the glasses don’t fit the face as well. I know this. But the top of my head is a convenient place to store my glasses with the bonus of working as an excellent hair band that actually works.

Someone with more know-how than I have should invent a hairband that uses the same premise as eyeglasses.

The Mommy Files: Names

When X-Chromo was very first learning to talk, we discovered something interesting. We played the standard game with her: point at something and ask her, “What’s that?” or at a person and ask, “Who’s that?” The latter was quite common at the dinner table every night.

I would point at my husband. “Who’s that?”

“Dada.”

He would point at me. “Who’s that?”

“Mama.”

One of us would point at her older brother. “Who’s that?”

“Hmph.”

Y-Chromo’s given name is nowhere near “Hmph” in sound. Neither were his many nicknames. But night after night, she would respond: “Dada, Mama, Hmph.”

If you look up the definition of “hmph” you’ll see that the sound indicates annoyance or indignation. Traits that set the tone of their relationship for next several years.

Movie: God Bless America

This movie was written and directed by Central New York native Bobcat Goldthwait. The first part of the movie was filmed near my neighborhood. It was weird to see the local Dunkin’ on the screen. Fun, too.

I loved this movie until the end, which IMHO was very Mel Brooks-ish. I don’t think Brooks does endings well, and Goldthwait took a page from that script. The ending ruins the movie for me.

Still, the premise was wonderful–which is going to betray how warped my sense of humor is. The official tagline is: “Taking out the trash, one jerk at a time.”

When the main character (played by Joel Murray) reaches the point in his life when he believes he has nothing left to lose, he realizes he’s had enough of how American culture has devolved since 9/11 and decides he’s going to do something about it.

This film is definitely a dark comedy.

 

My Favorite Tropes

Image credit: tieury / 123RF Stock Photo

Writers, especially authors of genre fiction, love to discuss tropes. Tropes are those “commonly recurring literary and rhetorical devices, motifs or clichés in creative works.”

One of my author friends is completely hooked on trapped in a cabin during a blizzard with a stranger.

Here are some of my favorites:

  • rain/thunderstorms
  • first kisses in the rain
  • old houses
  • haunted houses
  • twins, especially evil twins
  • secret identity heroes
  • jazz
  • south of France
  • Tuscany
  • Greece
  • wine
  • food

What are the story hooks that pull you in?

 

Looking Out My Window

I love to sit on my living room sofa and look out the window.

I live a block or two from a city park that is atop a hill. I can see only a sliver of the park through the trees and neighboring houses.

The road wending through the park is no longer open to automobiles. Pedestrians only. That made it nice when the Chromos were young and we would would through the park to the other side and the statue of famous authors for whom the park is named.  Except, of course, for the dog poop and shattered glass. And the people who think the DOGS MUST LEASHED signs don’t apply to them and their pooches.  Don’t get me started.

Anyway, sometimes I’m startled by what appears to be a vehicle driving or a pedestrian walking on the ridge pole (roof peak) of a neighbor’s house. The house is just the right height for the ridge pole to align with the road. It took me a few times to figure out what I was seeing.

This particular neighbor also has numerous birdfeeders and may also spread birdseed on the ground. There are flocks of birds who hang out on the wires in front of the house who then swoop behind the hedges. Sometimes the flapping of all those wings is startling.  It’s Hitchcock-esque.