Love And Kisses

Hello World, Happy Valentine's Day! Here's hoping, to paraphrase the Bard, that on Fortune's cap, you are the very button, and that the endearing Cupid and his quiver full of arrows has you fixed firmly in his sights, bringing you everything your heart desires. Failing that, the back-up plan would be to wait until after the God of Love's signature day, and scoop up bargains on all manner of heart-shaped, lace-trimmed left-over confections which you can enjoy just as much, at a fraction of their original cost. I call it "Cupid 2.0, the Ides of February," which may not seem very romantic, but on the other hand, tastes a lot better than it sounds. The Holiday Police may quibble, but I'm not worried, I can usually shut them up with candy hearts and cherry cordials. Bonbons, anyone? Of course, Monday is Presidents Day, with plenty of Hail to the Chief, not to mention, pomp and circumstance for the Executive Branch, and long may she wave, by jingo. Nobody needs me to trot out every presidential, colonial, revolutionary or ante-bellum cliche, stereotype, pun or colloquialism under the sun, heaven knows, since the vast array of merchants no doubt already covered all the bases on that front, not only going all the way around Robin Hood's barn, but also pulling out all the stops, and leaving no stone unturned in their efforts to lure shoppers with their clever commercials and snappy store displays. A space alien landing from a far distant galaxy could be forgiven for getting the impression that apparently what the Father of our Country and the Great Emancipator most wanted from public office was a platform from which they could cajole, coerce or connive a docile populace into stores to purchase big-ticket items in honor of their birthdays. And let's face it, we have their likeness on our money, so I guess that tells you something right there about our priorities, and maybe the space aliens are not so far off the mark after all. So get on out there and spread around all of the dead presidents that you can - although I have to admit, I'm more of a Benjamin Franklin sort of gal myself. And while we're on the topic of the dearly departed, we all know how these things go in bunches, and hard on the heels of Ralph Kiner last week, we had a couple of other celebrated personages breathe their last, notably TV pioneer and comedy icon Sid Caesar (who also at 91 must have been born in the same year as Pittsburgh's famous slugger) and the ever effervescent Shirley Temple, who managed to pack 90+ years of experiences into only 85 birthdays. (I pointed out to Bill that she shouldn't expect a very warm welcome from my mother when she gets there, and she also shouldn't count on diplomatic immunity protecting her at this point either.) Fortunately they continue to live on in our memories, as well as films and television recordings, so that we can still savor those golden moments when the world was young, and they held us in their thrall. So long, Nairobi Trio and Good Ship Lollipop, you may as well take your shoes with you, because nobody's going to be able to fill them. Normally this is where I would be saying something like, it does no good to complain about the horrendous weather, when it's winter in New York, and what can you expect but cold and snow, after all. But anyone can tell who lives anywhere, or watches television, that it hasn't just been here, it's been just about everywhere in the country, including places that have never seen snow before in their history. Of course, it's all too easy to blame me, since I never set up the bird bath heaters last year, which no doubt would have ushered in an era of unprecedented winter heat waves, such as the world has never seen, since our old friends the dinosaurs were roaming the vast unformed land masses in the primordial ooze. I accept full responsibility for that, however, I still think there's more at work here, and we need to cast a wider net to nail down what is really going on behind the scenes of this record-breaking avalanche of accumulations from all corners of the continent - and next, we'll probably be hearing it even from Hawaii, I shouldn't wonder. It's gotten so bad that our local newspaper printed a section from their FaceBook page where visitors completed the following phrase: "You know you have snow fatigue when ..... ===================================== ..... the sound of Al Roker's voice makes your heart race." [Steve T.] ..... you fantasize about mowing the lawn." [Judy W.] ..... you plan a trip to Punxsutawney, Pa., with terrible thoughts in your head." [Bob D.] ..... your shoveling-induced delirium leaves you standing at the end of a clean walk, hands held high, acknowledging the neighbors as if you had just won gold in Sochi." [Brian F.] ====================================== Well, it certainly sounds like snow fatigue to me, and I'm sure we can all agree with that, even if it's nothing more than a spurious concept that doesn't really even exist, except for the purposes of selling more newspapers. I can tell you it seems real enough to those of us who never want to see another snow shovel, and I ought to know. Speaking of cabin fever, for anyone with a big screen TV and other enhancements at their disposal, I'd be happy to recommend "Puss in Boots" in 3-D on DVD, which we watched recently, and was entertaining enough as these animated features go nowadays. The voice cast includes Antonio Banderas, Salma Hayek and Billy Bob Thornton, and the animation is top notch, with 3-D special effects that are stunning. It's certainly not what I would describe as a kiddie movie, with some very adult themes and a somewhat complicated and unnerving plot that I wouldn't wish on youngsters, no matter how sophisticated they might seem. In fact, the villain of the piece somehow turns out to be Humpty Dumpty, of all people, which seemed an odd choice considering that they also climbed up Jack's proverbial beanstalk, where you would have expected the fabled Giant to be the easy target in the annals of storybook villainy. Be that as it may, it was still an enjoyable way to pass the time when the weather outside was frightful, and I always say, everything is better in 3-D, and that's not just Mother Goose talking, believe me. Among the limited choices for 3-D DVDs, this is certainly a viable option, and not the light-weight fluff piece that might be expected, given the subject matter. And even better for those of us with snow fatigue, not a flake in sight, and I don't mind saying, hooray for Hollywood. Elle